Not only were the fans in the stands going wild, but even NBA stars like Steve Nash, Amar'e Stoudemire, and Grant Hill—guys who'd seen every kind of big moment—were stunned.
"Steve, this kid's coordination between ball and body is almost on your level," Hill chuckled, turning to Nash.
Nash nodded, a faint smile on his face. "His handle's tight and his feel for the ball is elite... but I don't have that kind of explosiveness."
He wasn't trying to flatter Chen Yan either. Nash's total dunks in his career probably couldn't even match what Chen did in just one game.
"This kid only came on in the second half... Coach really pulled a move."
"Hahaha!"
Stoudemire's complaints cracked both Nash and Hill up.
Back on the court, the game rolled on.
New Mexico State ran an inside play and earned a trip to the line.
Sutton walked up and made one of two free throws.
The second shot clanged off the rim, and Chen Yan easily hauled in the rebound.
Up to this point, everyone had been hyping up Chen's athleticism, but they'd all been sleeping on his static gifts. A 218 cm wingspan and those big, vacuum hands that could rival MJ's? Chen's physical tools were god-tier.
"Get back on D!"
The New Mexico State coach was still yelling from the sideline, but Chen had already pushed the ball past half court!
Right at the center circle, he floored the gas and blew past Noah Richardson in a single step!
Too damn fast. Noah spun around—he couldn't even catch a glimpse of Chen's shadow.
Fast break, full sprint to the rack!
Only one man back—Doug Brown, barely 185 cm.
Chen didn't hesitate—he dropped his shoulder and barreled in, body to body.
Doug Brown's face twisted in panic. Don't come over here, bro!
Beep!
The ref's whistle shrieked the second they collided.
Foul? Nah.
And-one? Hell yeah!
Chen floated in the air, switched hands mid-flight, and kissed it off the glass!
Bucket.
No pressure—he smoked the small guard with ease.
"Elite finish! Chen slams a fast break and draws the foul!"
"Tonight, New Mexico State's hoop is like Chen's girlfriend—it opens up whenever he wants to get in!"
The two commentators grinned at each other. American sports commentary definitely had a looser leash than back home. They could get away with jokes like that.
Chen walked to the free throw line and took a second to pause.
He was soaking it all in—being the center of attention, hearing the crowd chanting his name. It felt damn good.
Swish!
Free throw—money.
Three-point play, complete.
13 points in a row—Chen Yan was on fire.
Coach Reggie Theus from New Mexico State just stood there, frozen.
How do you guard a dude who scores the second he touches the ball?
Even Texas's own coach, Rick Barnes, looked confused. He originally subbed in Chen just to create some space for Durant.
Now look at him—kid took over the whole damn game.
The crowd was losing it. Everyone was watching to see just how long this unknown kid could keep up this scoring blitz.
"Noah! Lock in and focus! Don't let that guy cook you so easy!"
Coach Theus yelled from the bench.
Noah Richardson could only let out a bitter laugh.
It's not that I wasn't focused... I just couldn't keep up, Coach.
Scoreboard: 52–55.
New Mexico State's lead had vanished in the blink of an eye.
Naturally, the players' mindset shifted.
At first, New Mexico State came in as the underdogs—no pressure, just play their game.
But once they snagged a double-digit lead, they started thinking about winning... about making it to the Top 32.
And the second the lead started slipping away, their mindset flipped—anxious, scared to lose.
Nervous energy spread like a virus across the whole squad.
Suddenly, they couldn't execute. On either end, they were a totally different team than the first half.
Snap!
They fumbled a pass, and the ball rolled straight into DJ Augustin's lap.
He grinned. A steal without even trying? Say less!
Augustin quickly pushed the rock and found Chen already sprinting ahead on the break.
As soon as the ball touched Chen's hands, three defenders swarmed him. They were done letting him get free runs at the hoop.
But they forgot one important thing—
Texas had two killers on the floor.
They forgot, but Chen sure didn't.
Chen elevated, then zipped a two-handed pass across the lane to Durant.
Durant caught it in stride—just a foot behind the arc.
Wide open.
He didn't hesitate. Rose up, perfect form.
Swish!
Splash from deep!
55–55! Tie game!
"Nice dish, Chen!"
"Your shot's cold, KD!"
Durant clapped chests with Chen, hyped as hell—he'd finally shaken off all that first-half frustration.
Coach Theus from New Mexico State couldn't take it anymore. Another timeout.
Chen Yan's sudden explosion had thrown his whole game plan into chaos.
It felt like cooking for one table, and two whole tables of guests showed up. Dude was scrambling.
But after the timeout... nothing changed.
New Mexico State was broken. That mental edge? Gone. You can't fix that with one or two timeouts.
They kept making bad passes, bricking shots, and losing composure.
On the other side, Texas started cooking.
Chen and Durant took over with a two-man game straight out of a video game.
Every mistake New Mexico State made turned into fuel for the fire.
The two of them slashed through the defense again and again, fast breaks, kickouts, dunks—it was a full-blown massacre.
Score gap? Double digits now.
New Mexico State's squad just looked at each other, defeated. How do you play when the other team's got two superstars running the court like it's 2K?
Chen had zero mercy. This wasn't just about winning—it was March Madness, the biggest spotlight in college hoops.
The arena wasn't just filled with fans. There were scouts lurking in the shadows, eyes glued to every move he made.
Every cut, pass, and shot got logged in scouting reports that'd decide his draft stock.
So as long as Chen was on the court? He was going full throttle.
Crossovers into pull-up jumpers.
Backdoor cuts into alley-oops.
Explosive dunks in transition.
Ka-ka-ka!
The camera flashes lit up like a strobe light. Every single move from Chen looked poster-worthy.
"Chen's just too efficient tonight!"
"Forget efficient—dude's hitting everything he throws up!"
Right after the commentator dropped that line, Chen nailed another mid-range jumper, right in a defender's face.
Bang!
Even though his mid-range rating was only [77], it didn't matter now. His opponents had already mentally checked out.
And once the spirit breaks?
It's over.
Chen singlehandedly slapped the "pain mask" on the whole New Mexico State roster.