Some Truths Hit Harder Than Fouls.

Some of the most legendary trash talk moments happen in the most casual way.

Han Sen's comment had a lethal sting—because the guy who once stepped over Draymond Green was now his teammate.

If Green could buddy up with someone who had literally humiliated him, then what was the big deal about Han stepping over him?

It was the ultimate ego check.

And it sent Draymond straight into full-on rage mode.

But with Jokić's big frame standing in his way, there wasn't much he could do except curse from a distance.

Han, meanwhile, just kept smiling.

Trash talk in the NBA is too predictable—same few words over and over again.

And watching Green lose his mind? That was pure entertainment.

More importantly, this was psychological warfare.

Draymond could tolerate taking a backseat to LeBron if it meant making money off the court—that was a business decision.

But this?

This was personal.

Han had just found the perfect trigger.

From now on, he didn't even need to dunk on Draymond to get under his skin.

All he had to do was remind him: "LeBron stepped over you."

That alone was enough to send him spiraling.

It was far more effective than any poster dunk.

Finally, the refs had enough and hit Green with a tech.

And yet, he still wouldn't shut up.

LeBron came over, trying to calm him down.

But one sharp glare from Green made LeBron instinctively stop talking.

For a split second, LeBron wondered—was Green about to hit him like Portis hit Mirotić?

Ultimately, Kerr had no choice but to sub Green out.

Even after sitting down, Draymond was still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling with pure frustration.

And nobody on the Warriors' bench dared to go near him.

Draymond was the team's loudest voice, their enforcer, their emotional core.

In some ways, his importance was second only to Steph.

And now?

With him on the bench, the game took a dramatic shift.

---

Back on Christmas Day, Golden State had struggled in the first quarter when Draymond got into early foul trouble.

Now, history was repeating itself.

With no Green to anchor the defense, Kerr was forced to break the emergency glass—going straight to the Steph-LeBron pick-and-roll.

It still worked, to an extent.

Malone had the Cavs switching everything, but Covington was struggling to stay in front of Curry.

The real problem?

LeBron was miserable.

Before, he had been matched up against Covington.

Now, after a switch?

He had Han Sen right in front of him.

Not ideal.

By the nine-minute mark, Cleveland led 28-22.

Both teams started making substitutions.

Han and Jokić checked out, while Kerr left LeBron in to lead the second unit.

Finally—some breathing room.

With Covington also subbed out, LeBron saw daylight.

The moment he got the ball, he went straight to the rim, powering through P.J. Tucker for a layup.

As soon as the ball dropped in, LeBron turned to the camera and flexed.

Finally, some momentum.

Except—

Before he could even finish his celebration, the Cavs had already inbounded and pushed the ball up the floor.

Deron Williams found Wade in transition.

Three-on-two break.

Wade drove, kicked it out—Korver, wide open from three.

Splash.

Just like that, the lead was back to nine.

---

When Cleveland first traded for Korver, some fans had questioned if the price was worth it.

Dunleavy had been playing well, and Korver was already 35.

One-for-one, it wasn't bad.

But the Cavs had also thrown in a first-round pick.

Now?

Nobody was questioning it.

Korver was shooting a ridiculous 54% from three since joining the team.

Of course, that number would eventually drop, but at the moment, it felt like he never missed.

Kerr turned to LeBron with a frustrated look.

Clearly, he wasn't happy with the Warriors' transition defense.

But after winning a championship and leading a 73-win season, Kerr wasn't the type to hold back.

LeBron, however, didn't meet his gaze.

Instead, he turned and shot a glance at Wade.

That sneaky old man had caught him off guard with a fast break.

Fine.

LeBron went right back at the Cavs, drawing a foul and sinking both free throws.

---

Back on the other end, Wade ran a pick-and-roll with TT.

Got inside.

Pump fake—JaVale bit.

Wade exploded off the floor and threw down a two-handed slam!

The crowd erupted.

He wasn't as athletic as before, but every now and then, he could still catch you off guard.

Landing from the dunk, Wade took a step toward the baseline—then folded his arms across his chest in celebration.

It was the exact same pose that P.J. Washington would later make famous years down the line.

Oracle Arena buzzed with energy.

32-24.

LeBron had been scoring, but Cleveland was pulling away.

On the TNT broadcast, Barkley turned to Kenny Smith.

"So, Kenny… you still got something to say?"

Kenny just laughed and shook his head.

He hadn't expected Wade to be playing this well.

But that was the difference between playing as a starter and coming off the bench.

Wade had fresher legs, and his game wasn't dependent on jump shooting.

His performance wasn't going to fluctuate based on streaky shooting nights.

And tonight?

He was locked in.

---

LeBron drove and kicked it out to Iguodala for a three—missed.

The Warriors' transition defense was set, but Deron Williams calmly brought the ball up and initiated the offense. He ran a pick-and-roll with Tristan Thompson before dishing it to a cutting Dwyane Wade on the weak side.

Wade caught the ball and exploded toward the rim.

LeBron saw it and immediately rotated over.

He knew—he couldn't let Wade keep getting easy buckets.

The former Miami teammates were now facing off one-on-one.

Both knew each other's tendencies inside and out.

But this time, the offensive player had the edge.

Wade went into his signature Euro step, smoothly gliding past LeBron for a layup.

What happened next, though, shocked everyone.

LeBron, already beaten, shoved Wade in mid-air.

Wade never expected it.

His balance was completely thrown off.

Fortunately, years of absorbing contact had trained his instincts—he adjusted his legs, landing first to absorb the fall and avoid a hard crash.

Even so, the unexpected shove sent him tumbling into the courtside photographers.

Cunningham wasted no time—he stormed up to LeBron, finger pointed right at his face, cussing him out.

The Cavaliers had cut Metta World Peace and kept Cunningham this season, partly because of his impact in moments like this.

The refs quickly stepped in to separate them.

Meanwhile, Cavs players rushed over and pulled Wade to his feet.

He looked fine.

Old-school fans knew all about 'Wade falls'— his reckless, contact-heavy style from earlier in his career had saved him here.

But once he confirmed he wasn't injured, Wade turned and gave LeBron a confused stare.

LeBron, however, showed no sign of coming over to check on him.

He was still pissed about Cunningham getting in his face.

Malone wasn't taking any chances—he subbed Wade out to let him cool off.

---

Wade sat down next to Han, but his eyes were still locked on LeBron.

He couldn't make sense of it.

They had been through too much—brothers, teammates, always supposed to have each other's backs.

Sure, they never won a title together, but their bond was bigger than basketball.

So why the hell had LeBron shoved him mid-air like that? That could've ended his career.

Han, meanwhile, had seen enough.

He leaned back, crossed his arms, and let out a cold chuckle.

"That's your boy, huh?" Han muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Wade turned to him, frowning.

"Come on, man… it was probably just an accident."

Han's head snapped toward him.

"DW, listen to me. You can be a good guy. But don't be a f***ing idiot."

The sharpness in Han's tone made a few teammates glance over, but the second he shot them a look, they all turned back around.

Nobody wanted to be on the receiving end of whatever this was.

Han wasn't Jordan—he didn't bully teammates. But when he snapped, people listened. And right now, Wade was getting the full dose.

"Let me break this down for you," Han continued.

"That media session before the game? You know why he said all that about wanting to recruit you?"

Wade sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"I don't know, maybe because he actually wanted me there?"

Han laughed—a real, you can't be serious laugh.

"Yeah? So if you had taken a buyout and gone to Golden State, what would've happened?"

Wade hesitated.

"I mean… I would've helped them, I guess—"

"No, you wouldn't have helped them," Han cut in. "You would've made Cleveland weaker, and that's all he cared about."

Han leaned in, eyes locked on Wade's.

"If you had gone to Golden State, he wins twice. One, he gets to look like the good guy—'Oh, look at me, I take care of my old friends.'

And two, he weakens his biggest rival without even playing a minute. You think he really cared whether you'd have a role there? Whether you'd succeed? Hell no. You were just a chess piece."

Han knew what had happened in the original timeline—how Wade followed LeBron to Cleveland, only to get discarded midseason.

Wade clenched his jaw, looking down at the floor. Han could see it—the gears turning, the doubt creeping in.

But he wasn't done.

"You remember Miami, right? Back when y'all teamed up and he was supposed to be the guy? What happened?"

Wade exhaled, suddenly knowing exactly where this was going.

"Han—"

"Nah, say it," Han pushed. "The 8-Point Game. That ring a bell?"

Wade's hands clenched.

Of course, he remembered.

2011 NBA Finals.

Game 4.

LeBron James, the supposed 'best player in the world', had scored eight f***ing points.

EIGHT.

Wade had been on that team. He had seen it up close. He had tried to carry, tried to talk to LeBron, tried to light a fire under him.

Nothing.

And the worst part? After the series, instead of taking responsibility, instead of owning his failure, LeBron let the media spin it into Wade wasn't giving him enough space to lead.

Like it was Wade's fault he disappeared in the biggest moment of his career.

Han saw Wade's face tense up.

"And what did you do after that?" Han pressed. "You stepped back. Handed him the keys. Played along with the whole 'he's the leader now' narrative. That wasn't you making a smart decision. That was you gaslighting yourself into thinking you had to take a backseat."

Han's voice lowered, but it was sharper than ever.

"And now? After all that? He just shoved you in mid-air like you were some random role player."

Wade stared at the floor, lips pressed into a tight line.

Han let that sit for a moment before delivering the final blow.

"Let's bet on something," he said.

"After this game, let's see if he even asks if you're okay after that fall. If he does, I'll shut up—I'll admit I was wrong, that I misjudged him. But if he doesn't?"

Han let it hang in the air.

"Then maybe it's time you wake the hell up, before you let him use you up completely."

Wade hesitated for a moment, then nodded slowly.

"Alright," he said quietly. "Let's see."

He glanced back at LeBron on the court, still unsure.

A part of him wanted to believe LeBron just hadn't had the chance to check on him because of Cunningham.

But another part of him… wasn't so sure.

For the first time in a long time—maybe ever—he wondered if Han had a point.

---

As the second quarter began, with Wade confirmed to be fine, Malone sent him back onto the court.

He glanced toward the Warriors' side, but to his surprise, Kerr hadn't put LeBron back in. Instead, Draymond Green and Klay Thompson were leading the charge.

Green had calmed down by now, and without LeBron on the floor, he had more freedom to orchestrate the offense. His play immediately looked much sharper than in the first quarter.

Both teams played solid basketball during this stretch.

Wade continued his strong performance, keeping the Cavs steady in the non-Han minutes.

The score didn't swing like it had against Chicago, but that was fine—because compared to Christmas Day, this was already a major improvement.

Back then, Han and Jokić wouldn't have been able to sit on the bench this comfortably.

By halftime, the Cavs were up 62-52—a double-digit lead.

LeBron had struggled throughout the second quarter, unable to shake Covington's defense.

Tonight was turning into Covington's breakout game.

---

Coming out of the half, both teams shifted into their small-ball lineups.

Jokić still wasn't comfortable attacking Green one-on-one.

But that didn't mean Green had it easy.

Because Han was targeting him directly.

In the first half, Green mostly met Han as a help defender.

Now?

With Jokić setting screens for Han, they were face to face.

And with Jokić's high IQ, his screen actions were unpredictable—sometimes popping out, sometimes rolling hard.

The Warriors had no choice but to switch everything.

Han exploited it immediately, blowing past Green on another drive, finishing through contact, and drawing a foul.

Green could only shake his head.

He was an elite switch defender—he could handle big wings, he could contain LeBron.

But Han?

That was outside his jurisdiction.

Han walked to the free-throw line and, with a smirk, turned to Green.

"35 ain't as good as 23."

Green immediately knew what he meant.

When Michael Jordan first returned to the NBA, the Bulls had already retired his No. 23 jersey. By league rules, he couldn't wear it, so he came back wearing No. 45.

But after one bad playoff game, Nick Anderson's trash talk—"45 ain't 23"—got into his head.

Jordan switched back.

And now?

Han was telling Green the same thing.

Except, he wasn't done.

"Then again," Han added casually. "It's not like you could switch back anyway."

That hit differently.

Lies don't hurt people. The truth does.

Green used to wear No. 23.

But that number didn't belong to him anymore.

It belonged to LeBron.

And unless LeBron left, Green was never getting it back.

---

The Warriors were known for their third-quarter explosions.

But Han dropped 23 in the third himself, keeping the Cavs ahead despite the Warriors' offensive surge.

By the time the benches checked in for the final stretch, the Cavs still held their lead.

With the game slipping, Kerr sent LeBron back in to try and salvage the score.

Wade checked in too.

Another chance for them to talk.

And Wade kept waiting.

At the free-throw line. During stoppages. Anytime they were near each other.

LeBron never said a word.

The game ended.

Cavs 121-115.

During the postgame handshakes—

LeBron left early.

No conversation. No acknowledgment.

Nothing.

And just like that, Wade had his answer.

-End of Chapter-