Winning Starts Here.

Luka Dončić lay on the floor for a moment before his teammates finally helped him up. He got to his feet, his expression a mix of frustration and determination.

But as soon as the ball was inbounded, he was back in motion, moving off the ball, looking for an opening.

He wasn't just some hyped-up European prospect. He wasn't wired like most young stars.

Luka wanted to win—badly.

But ambition alone wasn't enough.

Not when you weren't strong enough yet.

For the next stretch of the game, Han exposed Dončić—on both ends of the floor.

It wasn't just a rookie moment. It was a lesson.

Some fans in the crowd winced, barely able to watch.

Of all the players Dončić could have poked—why did it have to be Han Sen?

Yet despite Dončić's struggles, Cleveland stayed in the game.

Because Luka wasn't their offensive anchor.

Jokić was.

Unlike in past seasons, when he ran the offense from the top of the key, tonight, he went straight to the low post.

And he dominated.

When Sabonis guarded him, Jokić used footwork—Shaq-inspired, Yao Ming-refined, and uniquely his own—to carve out space and score.

When the Kings switched Cauley-Stein onto him, he switched tactics—bullying him with sheer strength, making his athleticism meaningless.

At this point, it wasn't even a debate.

Jokić was the best center in the NBA.

On the TNT broadcast, Shaquille O'Neal watched intently, nodding.

"Lue should know by now—you can't guard Nikola one-on-one," Shaq said, grinning. "Same way teams couldn't guard me one-on-one back in the day."

A classic Shaq moment—praising Jokić while still finding a way to talk about himself.

But in this case?

He wasn't wrong.

Lue did know.

Because he had spent years watching teams struggle against the Cavs.

Jokić wasn't as physically dominant as Shaq, but his passing made him just as unguardable.

And sure enough—by the end of the first quarter, the game was tied at 30-30.

Han had 16 points, Jokić had 14, and suddenly, the season opener had turned into a battle between the two players who built the Cavaliers' dynasty.

---

When the second quarter began, both teams' starters took a seat.

And on the Kings' bench, Han wasn't alone.

Lue slid into the seat next to him, arms crossed, while Jeff Van Gundy remained at the sideline, handling in-game adjustments.

"We need to wear Nikola down," Lue said.

He wasn't a genius strategist. But he knew people.

And more importantly?

He knew Jokić.

Back during the Cavaliers' dynasty years, every team had the same plan—target Jokić. Attack him in pick-and-rolls, force him into exhausting defensive rotations, make him spend so much energy guarding that he had less to give on offense.

It never worked.

Because back then?

They had Han.

But now?

No Han. No Murray. Dončić still adjusting.

Jokić's biggest weakness was fully exposed.

Han nodded at Lue's plan, but his eyes drifted toward the scoreboard.

And he didn't like what he saw.

Because the fastest way to break Jokić wasn't a defensive adjustment.

It was Han hunting mismatches and attacking him relentlessly.

Which meant?

More touches. More scoring. More dependence on him.

And that was a problem.

Han wasn't afraid of responsibility—he had carried teams his whole career.

But this wasn't about whether he could do it.

It was about what happened if he kept doing it.

If every solution ran through him, his teammates would never develop the ability to step up in big moments.

And without that?

The Kings wouldn't survive the playoffs.

Lue, sharp as ever, saw the hesitation.

Han didn't have to say it.

Lue already knew.

This was the contradiction they had to solve.

The Kings' young core needed experience in high-pressure games to grow. But handing them too much responsibility too soon could also cost them the game.

Most coaches would prioritize development.

It was only the first game of the season.

The Kings weren't expected to win a championship this year.

So why not just let the young guys figure it out?

But Lue?

Lue understood the bigger picture.

Han wasn't just playing basketball.

He was fighting against history.

He was fighting against critics, against skeptics, against narratives waiting to tear him down.

A slow start? A few bad losses?

They'd bury him.

It had happened before.

When Han first returned to Cleveland, they said his Memphis success was only because the Grizzlies were already built to win.

And now?

If the Kings struggled, they'd say his success only came from having Kyrie and Jokić.

Lue exhaled, then said exactly what needed to be said.

"Han, Sacramento has spent enough time dreaming about the future."

He paused.

"This team doesn't just need hope."

"It needs to win."

Han studied him for a long second.

Then?

He smirked, clapping Lue on the shoulder.

Lue wasn't Malone.

He wasn't some master tactician.

But he understood what mattered.

And sometimes?

That was more important than strategy.

---

When the second quarter started, the Kings adjusted.

Their lineup?

- Mitchell

- Hield

- Han Sen

- Tatum

- Sabonis

If the goal was to wear down Jokić, Sabonis was the better fit—his screens were stronger, his offensive game more polished.

And Malone knew it.

But he didn't counter with small-ball.

If he did?

He'd be playing into Sacramento's pace.

Instead, he made a smaller move—bringing in J.R. Smith for Tristan Thompson, shifting the matchups just slightly.

But the Kings weren't just targeting Jokić on offense.

They changed their defense, too.

Now?

Instead of letting Jokić control the ball, they started forcing it out of his hands—closing passing lanes, pressuring his catches, making Cleveland's other players beat them.

And when they missed?

The Kings pushed the pace.

Fast-break basketball.

Less reading defenses. Less overcomplicating plays.

Just run and finish.

The kind of game their young core thrived in.

And soon?

It was working.

Malone sat on the Cavaliers' bench, watching the game slip away.

Because this?

This was the same problem Cleveland's opponents had faced for years.

Han's isolation plays weren't unstoppable because of some perfect system.

They were unstoppable because he was the one executing them.

And on top of that—

Something unexpected was happening.

Han's scoring wasn't just carrying the Kings.

It was freeing up Donovan Mitchell.

Because as Cleveland collapsed on Han, Mitchell was slipping into open space.

And unlike last season?

He wasn't hesitating.

He caught and fired.

He attacked closeouts.

No overthinking. No reading defenses.

Just playing his game.

By halftime, the Kings led 62-52.

Han? 30 points, 5 rebounds, 4 assists.

Mitchell? 11 points.

The only two Kings in double figures.

And on the TNT set, the analysts had seen enough.

Charles Barkley couldn't hold it in anymore.

"Man, I swear, you could drop Han Sen on any team in the league—give him four guys straight outta the G-League—and he'd still find a way to get 'em to the playoffs."

Shaq chuckled. "So you're saying he's that good?"

"I'm saying he's that damn good." Barkley gestured toward the screen. "Look at this—first game with a new team, half these guys barely know what a playoff game feels like, and he's already got 'em playing like contenders."

Kenny Smith nodded. "It's not just talent. He injects belief into his teammates. You can see it with Mitchell—when you're playing next to a guy like Han, you just start thinking, 'Why can't we win?'"

Shaq smirked. "Ain't that what superstars do?"

Barkley shook his head. "Nah, man. That's what legends do."

---

When the second half began, Michael Malone made key adjustments to the Cavaliers' offense.

He didn't just swap J.R. Smith into the starting lineup for Tristan Thompson—he completely changed how they used Nikola Jokić.

Instead of operating out of the low post, Jokić moved to the high post, facing up rather than backing down.

At first glance, it seemed like a simple positioning shift—better spacing, a clearer view of the court.

But in reality?

It was a fundamental shift in Cleveland's entire offensive approach.

Low-post Jokić meant individual scoring.

High-post Jokić?

It meant playmaking.

With Jokić orchestrating from the perimeter, the Cavaliers' off-ball movement came alive—backdoor cuts, flare screens, pick-and-pop actions.

And for the Kings' young defenders?

It was a problem.

Their inexperience showed—too many instances of ball-watching, too many late rotations.

A dynasty doesn't just vanish overnight. Even without Han, the Cavaliers still had championship DNA, experience that Sacramento's roster lacked.

They were, in a way, like the 1994 Bulls after Jordan's first retirement—not the same dominant force, but still one of the East's best teams.

With the new adjustments, Cleveland quickly cut into the Kings' lead.

Lue wasted no time countering.

Just like in the first half, he made a single substitution—but one that changed everything.

This time, he pulled Sabonis.

Sabonis was better suited for defending Jokić in the low post, but against high-post Jokić?

Willy Cauley-Stein was the better choice.

Stein's mobility allowed him to step out and contest passing lanes, while still protecting the paint.

As for the Kings' offense?

The strategy didn't change.

Han Sen kept hunting Jokić on mismatches.

The third quarter turned into a back-and-forth battle.

By the time the buzzer sounded?

Han's point total had climbed to 50.

That meant he had just dropped 20 points in a single quarter.

If the first half had been Han vs. Jokić, then the third quarter?

It was Han vs. Cleveland.

And the Cavaliers had an even bigger issue.

Without Han, Wade, Rose, or the injured Murray, and with Dončić still adjusting to the NBA—they had no second scoring option.

By the fourth quarter, Jokić's energy started to fade.

And as his legs got heavier, Cleveland's offense slowed.

Meanwhile, the Kings?

They kept running.

They kept attacking.

Slowly but surely, the tide turned.

And when the final buzzer sounded—

Kings 125, Cavaliers 118.

Sacramento had won their season opener.

---

Statlines:

- Han Sen: 60 points, 8 rebounds, 8 assists.

- Jokić: 41 points, 18 rebounds, 11 assists.

- Dončić: 10 points, 8 rebounds, 4 assists (5-16 shooting).

- Mitchell: 19 points, 3 rebounds, 3 assists.

- Sabonis: 13 points, 10 rebounds, 4 assists.

- Tatum: 8 points, 3 rebounds.

---

During the postgame press conference, reporters asked Dončić about his early-game celebration—the jersey tug toward Han.

Did he regret it?

Dončić shook his head.

"I don't regret anything. This is competition. I didn't come to the NBA to make friends. I came here to win."

His confidence was clear.

But sitting next to him, Jokić offered a different perspective.

"Trying to fire up an opponent? That only works if they're emotional players—guys who make mistakes when they're angry."

Jokić shook his head.

"But Han isn't one of those guys. When you push him, he doesn't lose control. He just makes the game worse for you."

The room quieted for a beat.

Because if Jokić, the player who had spent years by Han's side, was saying this—then Dončić had just learned a painful lesson.

And in the Kings' locker room?

Han didn't even bring it up.

He had already moved on.

Instead, at Sacramento's press conference, Lue was focused on something else entirely.

"Tonight wasn't just a game. This team needs to learn how to win. And Han? He showed them what that means."

He also addressed the biggest question of the night—Han's position.

"Yes, Han played a lot at the three tonight. And guess what? He was perfect. That's what separates the all-time greats. He's the best shooting guard when he plays the two. He's the best small forward when he plays the three."

At this point, nobody could argue.

A 60-point near-triple-double on opening night—how else were you supposed to describe it?

Then, Han took the mic.

And he was blunt.

"I've done this before."

A pause.

"When I left Memphis, my first game back was against the Grizzlies."

He let the room take that in.

"And now? I leave Cleveland, and the first game is here."

He shook his head with a smirk.

"It's a little weird. But at the end of the day? Winning is what matters. This team has been through a lot, and this was the perfect way to start."

"Will you keep playing like this?"

Normally, a 60-point game would dominate headlines for days.

But this was Han Sen.

They weren't surprised he did it.

They were just wondering if this was his new normal.

Han didn't hesitate.

"I came here to help this team win."

"And if that's what it takes?"

"I'll keep doing it."

The reporters exchanged glances.

Because if Han was serious?

This wasn't about winning the scoring title.

This was about rewriting NBA history.

Kobe's 35.4 PPG season?

Han might blow past it.

And at this rate?

He might push it to another dimension.