As the lights of the Phoenix auditorium bore down, amidst the expectant hush of onlookers, Jalen Brunson took a millisecond longer to position the ball for his eighth 3-point attempt. He heaved, the ball spun into the air, kissed the side of the rim, bounced around like a mischievous elf before finally granting the silent wish of thousands–it dropped through.
The ball, it seemed, had taken on a life of its own, obediently following the commands of the charmed fingers of Jalen Brunson. Magic? Technique? A shooter's roll? Who are we to dissect the workings of an enchanted night!
