Chapter 62: Bets Locked

Not only did the teams match up, but the lineups were eerily reminiscent of Andrew's previous memories. 

This coincidence was striking—so perfect it felt almost scripted. Unless history was maliciously altered, Black Eight would surely rise to the occasion again. 

Investing in this was more lucrative than any lottery; the odds were tantalizing. If his instincts proved true, he'd have enough funds to fulfill his promises and finally launch the Red Sea Selva initiative.

What's more, betting on games unrelated to the Rockets posed no violation of league rules.

With a mix of excitement and anxiety, Andrew gestured toward the odds board. "From a professional basketball perspective, betting on this is far more reliable."

"What? Isn't that a risky move? The Mavericks made it to the Finals last year, and they're the top team this year. There's no way the Warriors can beat them," Hathaway exclaimed, surprise evident in her voice.

Being so close, Andrew felt the soft brush of her presence, stirring something within him.

"Well, that's just my professional insight," Andrew replied, casually averting his gaze.

Hathaway's cheeks flushed slightly, and sensing his detachment, she decided, "Alright, I'll trust your judgment and place a bet on this."

"Sounds good."

Andrew nodded, setting the newspaper aside. "Is it time to eat? You should help aunt."

"Ah? Oh, right!" Hathaway exclaimed before disappearing into the kitchen.

As she turned away, Andrew let out a long sigh, his heart racing. He quickly made his way to the bathroom to collect himself; he couldn't afford any awkwardness with Hathaway right now.

Later that night, back in Houston, Andrew made a call to his team at TA Music, instructing them to funnel liquidity into the betting site.

He placed a million-dollar wager on the Warriors to win, followed by another million on a 4-2 series victory for the Warriors. This was a bold gamble using the company's funds, but for Andrew, hitting the jackpot could mean a substantial payout. Losing, however, was merely a part of the game, and he knew TA Music's ability to recover was only a matter of time.

With his bets locked in, Andrew shifted his focus to the looming first-round matchup: the Rockets vs. Jazz.

For Chinese fans, this matchup was a haunting déjà vu. In his previous life, the 2006-07 and 2007-08 seasons saw these two teams clash in the playoffs, leading to bitter defeats that haunted fans. The 2006-07 season was particularly painful; the Rockets had a commanding lead, only to falter and lose in a heart-wrenching Game Seven.

Now, the stars had aligned for another showdown. However, this Rockets team was no longer the same. With powerhouse players like Millsap and Blake added to the roster, coupled with Andrew's innovative offensive and defensive strategies, the team had undergone a metamorphosis.

Most importantly, Andrew, as the coach, possessed intimate knowledge of the Jazz's strengths and weaknesses.

"Guys, you've played hard all season. This victory belongs to you. Stay calm no matter what happens; I've got your backs," he said, his voice steady and reassuring.

His calm demeanor put the Rockets players at ease, their confidence soaring after a rigorous half-season of training, all leading up to this moment.

Hours before tip-off, players from both sides trickled onto the court for warm-ups. The Jazz players appeared relaxed, bolstered by the home-court advantage despite their eight-win deficit compared to the Rockets.

Before the game began, an ESPN reporter caught up with the Jazz's starting power forward, Carlos Boozer.

"Carlos, many believe the Jazz are destined to lose this series. What's your take?" the reporter asked.

"They couldn't be more wrong," Boozer replied, flashing a confident smile. "They underestimate our capabilities."

"Your confidence is intriguing. What fuels it?" the reporter pressed.

"Our pick-and-roll offense is lethal against the Rockets. Our defense will stifle their attempts. Honestly, I can't see a reason for us to lose," Boozer declared boldly.

The reporter chuckled, "We'll see about that!"

Boozer chuckled too, but his expression was laced with contempt, knowing full well that the Jazz were more formidable than the critics believed.

Inside the crowded Toyota Center, the atmosphere was electric, with fans donning Rockets jerseys, transforming the arena into a pulsating sea of red. 

As the introduction of the starting players unfolded, Andrew's heart raced. The Rockets maintained their standard lineup, with Blake and McGrady manning the perimeter, Battier and Millsap patrolling the front line, and Yao Ming anchoring the paint.

For the Jazz, their starting lineup featured the brilliant All-Star point guard Deron Williams, the veteran Derek Fisher—who had once made a historic game-winner—and the defensive stalwart Andrei Kirilenko. The formidable Carlos Boozer filled the power forward position, while Mehmet Okur added a unique three-point threat from the center.

With both sides ready, Yao Ming faced off against Boozer for the jump ball.

Boozer leaped with surprising agility, claiming the tip for the Jazz.

Deron Williams seized control, initiating the opening play of this critical series.

"Defend! Defend!" echoed through the arena as the anticipation reached a fever pitch.

From across the ocean, the ratings on CCTV-5 soared as the game commenced.

Williams, a top-five point guard in 2006, remained unfazed by the deafening cheers. After signaling to his teammates to clear the space, he executed a pick-and-roll with Boozer, a simple yet effective strategy.

As the play unfolded, Deron penetrated the paint while Boozer slid to the perimeter. With a quick glance at the defense, he lofted a high pass back to Boozer.

Boozer, unguarded, calmly sank a shot from the high post.

"Boom!"

The ball swished through the net, sending waves of exhilaration through the crowd. Boozer felt the rush, and in a moment of bravado, he taunted the fans with a playful shushing gesture.

As he reveled in the moment, he knew that the naysayers would soon learn the truth about the Jazz.