The Real Big Boss.

The Bulls advanced past the first round, eliminating the Wizards in six games.

In his duel against John Wall, Kyrie Irving had the upper hand, averaging 26 points and 7 assists on 46.8% shooting for the series—a strong performance that showcased just how much he had improved after spending two and a half seasons alongside Han Sen.

Now, fate had set up a Cavaliers-Bulls showdown in the Eastern Conference Semifinals.

Their first regular-season matchup after the trade had already been explosive—now, with a playoff series on the line, tensions were sky-high before the first game had even tipped off.

Before flying to Cleveland, a reporter asked Irving about the difference between playing in Chicago versus Cleveland.

"Chicago is a real big city, always alive, always full of energy—especially at night. When I drive around, I can feel it. This is a true sports city, something Cleveland never had."

On the surface, Irving's words weren't outright offensive. Chicago was undeniably a larger, more established sports city than Cleveland. Even after Han Sen delivered a championship, Cleveland was still playing catch-up in terms of market size and reputation.

But the problem wasn't just what Irving said—it was who he was saying it about.

Dissing a team was one thing.

Dissing an entire city?

That was another level of disrespect.

Home is home—people can criticize their own city all they want, but they won't tolerate outsiders doing it.

Now, after back-to-back incidents, the perception around the league had shifted. Irving wasn't just bitter about leaving Cleveland—he was outright low IQ about it.

And this wasn't happening in a vacuum—his hostility toward the Cavs' fanbase had been growing for months. Ever since his controversial interaction with Cleveland fans during the regular season, Irving had mentally checked out.

His thinking was simple—if Cavs fans wouldn't appreciate him, then why should he hold back?

Once the media got hold of his latest comments, Cleveland fans erupted.

Then, as if on cue, Cavs head coach Michael Malone took a direct shot at Irving during a press conference.

"Oh, he was talking about Cleveland? That's great. I'm happy to be in Cleveland."

"He can do whatever he wants. But we all know Cleveland is a great sports town. A great city with fans who give everything to their teams. I love being here."

Malone wasn't alone.

Dwyane Wade—one of the key pieces in the trade that sent Kyrie to Chicago—also weighed in.

"You never know where your career will take you. You never know what's going to happen, what team you'll end up on, or who your teammates will be."

"Even when I left Miami, I had that in mind."

"That's why I've never wanted to leave a place and immediately start talking bad about it. How could somewhere be 'amazing' while you're there, but then suddenly be 'terrible' the moment you leave?"

And just as the controversy around Irving began to peak, another storm hit.

As the Bulls arrived in Cleveland for an open practice, reporters caught up with Chicago head coach Fred Hoiberg—who unexpectedly brought up Wade.

"I'm happy for DW and what he's doing right now. I knew he could do it. When he was here in Chicago, we had a few discussions about bringing him off the bench, but unfortunately, it never worked out. I feel like we could've had more success if it did."

At first glance, it sounded like a compliment.

But read between the lines?

It was an outright shot at Wade.

Hoiberg was essentially saying—if Wade had been willing to come off the bench in Chicago, the Bulls wouldn't have needed to rebuild.

That quote made its way to Wade, and by the time he addressed the media before Game 1, he was ready.

"It's simple. I wasn't going to come off the bench for a rebuilding team."

"If I wasn't happy with my role from a basketball standpoint, nothing else would've gone right. And I didn't want my family to go through that."

Wade's message was clear—he would sacrifice for a championship, not for a team going nowhere.

It was never about selfishness.

When he signed with Chicago, he wasn't chasing rings—he just wanted to play for his hometown team.

But when the Bulls' direction changed? He did too.

And just when things couldn't get any messier, Hoiberg fired back one more time.

"If a team with DW, Pau Gasol, and Jimmy Butler was considered a 'bad team,' then I guess there aren't many good teams in this league."

Now, the controversy had fully shifted from Irving to Wade.

By tip-off, the tension was at an all-time high.

Cavs fans came prepared.

Signs in the crowd took direct aim at the Bulls:

- "We don't need Kyrie. We have DW."

- "Chicago is never coming back."

- "Kyrie <<< Joker."

Then came the moment everyone had been waiting for—the player introductions.

When Kyrie Irving stepped onto the court, the entire arena exploded in boos.

There was no hesitation, no mixed reactions—just pure hostility.

He was public enemy number one.

No more cheers. No more applause.

Just noise.

The battle had begun.

---

Cleveland's starters: Han Sen, J.R. Smith, Robert Covington, Tristan Thompson, Nikola Jokić.

Chicago's starters: Kyrie Irving, Thabo Sefolosha, Jimmy Butler, Taj Gibson, Dwight Howard.

The Bulls won the tip, and immediately, Irving and Butler began running pick-and-rolls with Howard.

Hoiberg's game plan was clear—target Jokić in the pick-and-roll.

Han Sen was too tough to attack directly, but Jokić's defense in space? That was a weak spot.

During the regular season, Butler had gotten Jokić into foul trouble using this exact strategy.

But there was one problem—Howard wasn't setting real screens.

Just like in his later Orlando and Brooklyn days, he was slipping screens early to roll to the basket instead of actually making contact.

Why?

Because he had spent years being the primary pick-and-roll finisher. He wasn't thinking about freeing up ball handlers—he just wanted his own touches.

This played right into Cleveland's hands.

Han Sen and Covington simply fought through the weak screens without switching.

Suddenly, the Bulls' game plan collapsed—it was just Kyrie trying to attack Han Sen one-on-one.

Predictably, Kyrie forced up a tough shot and bricked.

Howard grabbed the offensive rebound and muscled in a putback over Jokić.

It was clear—Jokić still wasn't strong enough to handle Dwight in the post.

But when the Cavs got the ball back, Han Sen and Jokić ran their signature pick-and-roll.

The result? Han Sen pulled up for a smooth mid-range jumper over Howard.

Cash.

Howard was no longer the explosive shot-blocker he used to be. In his prime, he would've swatted that into the stands.

Now? He barely contested.

Han Sen's plan was obvious—force Howard out to defend in space.

Even if Han didn't hit every jumper, Jokić and Thompson would feast on the boards against Taj Gibson.

But tonight, Han wasn't missing much.

He was locked in.

---

Hoiberg stepped to the sideline, signaling a new play for Kyrie.

The Bulls adjusted their offense on the next possession—this time, Howard didn't come up to set a high screen. Instead, he parked himself in the low post, backing down Jokić.

This was an unusual set for the Bulls.

Howard's role in Chicago hadn't been much bigger than it was in Atlanta—his touches were limited. But tonight, Hoiberg was fully committed to attacking Jokić.

And this time, it worked.

Howard powered through contact, using his strength to finish a bank shot over Jokić.

The only type of big men who had ever truly neutralized Howard were guys who could physically overwhelm him—Shaq and Yao, for example. Both had either elite power or sheer size, making Howard look incredibly unpolished whenever he tried to score on them.

But against lesser matchups?

He was still dangerous.

His low-post presence had once forced entire defenses to collapse around him—that's how Orlando's one-star, four-shooter system had thrived.

And now, for the first time in his career, Jokić was experiencing what it was like to be a true defensive liability.

Last season, his playoff matchups were Roy Hibbert (washed), Jonas Valančiūnas (soft), Pau Gasol (finesse), and Timofey Mozgov (benched).

In the first round this year, he had been expecting to guard Giannis, but instead, Milwaukee started rookie Thon Maker.

Howard, even at this stage, was on a different level from all of them.

And now, on the other end, Howard started banging Jokić with off-ball contact every chance he got.

The Cavs stuck to their bread-and-butter—Han Sen running pick-and-rolls with Jokić.

But this time, Chicago trapped Han hard off the screen.

Han lobbed it over the top to Jokić, leading him perfectly to the rim.

Jokić took the pass in stride, went up for the layup—

SWAT!

Howard came flying back, spiking the shot out of bounds!

As the ball soared into the stands, Howard gave Jokić an extra shoulder bump and let out a primal scream toward the sideline.

The arena buzzed with tension.

Basketball, like war, was about dominance—once the opposition sensed weakness, they would only press harder.

And just like Kyrie's words had fueled Cleveland's anger, Wade's comments had galvanized the Bulls.

---

Han didn't have time to worry about Jokić—this Bulls team was no joke.

They had fought their way from the playoff bubble to the top half of the East.

If they caught fire, this wasn't just about Game 1—it could change the entire series.

The Cavs had seven seconds on the shot clock.

Han set a quick off-ball screen for Tristan Thompson, then sprinted to the arc, catching the inbound from Jokić.

One hard jab-step—Gibson shifted back—

Han pulled up from deep.

SWISH!

The moment the ball snapped through the net, the energy in the building flipped.

The crowd roared—

"DEFENSE! DEFENSE!"

Chicago fed Howard in the post again, but this time, Jokić fronted him early, disrupting his position.

Kyrie called for a pick, forcing Howard to step up again.

Same weak screen, but this time, Kyrie attacked Han immediately and tossed a lob toward the rim.

Howard, who hadn't set a proper screen, used his quickness to slip behind Jokić and soared for the alley-oop slam!

As he landed, Howard grinned from ear to ear—like he had just traveled back in time.

A glimpse of the old Superman.

The crowd erupted, sensing Jokić was struggling.

And in that moment, a realization swept through the arena—Jokić was only in his second year.

Howard wasn't what he used to be.

But if a sophomore Jokić could already dominate a prime Dwight, he wouldn't just be an All-Star—he'd be All-NBA.

Now, though, the Cavs had a real problem.

- Kyrie was on the other team.

- Wade was on the bench.

- Jokić was getting dominated.

Han Sen was alone.

Malone glanced over at Wade, contemplating an early substitution.

Han, however, had already adjusted.

He slowed his dribble, motioning Jokić to the three-point line before passing it to him.

Han knew Chicago would ramp up their pressure on him.

So he was one step ahead.

Jokić at the three-point line forced Howard out of the paint.

Then—Han cut hard to the basket.

Jokić didn't hesitate—bullet pass.

With Howard pulled out, Chicago only had Taj Gibson to protect the rim.

Han met him in the air, shifting mid-flight for a smooth reverse layup.

Crowd explodes.

Han's presence lit up the entire building.

The Cavs' energy surged.

---

The Bulls came down the floor, looking to exploit the mismatch again.

Kyrie and Howard ran another pick-and-roll—but this time, Jokić was ready.

He dropped early, cutting off the lob.

Howard caught the pass, but with Jokić already set in position, he had no clean angle to finish.

So he did what he always did—lowered his shoulder and tried to bully his way inside.

And that's when it happened—

Han made his move.

Howard was so locked in on backing Jokić down that he never saw the danger coming.

SWIPE!

In one clean motion, Han ripped the ball right from Howard's hands—and took off like a bullet.

Kyrie chased him down, reaching out, trying to strip him from behind—

Han spun behind his back, shaking him off effortlessly.

Sefolosha was next, stepping up to cut him off.

Han lowered his shoulder, absorbing the contact, but never slowed down.

He was already gathering his steps.

One powerful stride into the lane—then he took flight.

Sefolosha jumped with him, arms stretched out—

BOOM!

Han hammered it down, right through him!

And-One!

The arena exploded.

The sound was deafening—a mix of roars, cheers, and pure chaos.

And then, as Han stepped to the free-throw line, the chant started—

"WHO'S YOUR DADDY?! WHO'S YOUR DADDY?!"

Louder.

And louder.

The cameras snapped straight to Kyrie.

This was it.

This was the moment Cleveland reminded him—

He didn't carry the Cavs to a title.

He was carried.

He never understood it back then.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was being reminded the hard way.