You may have lived like us live, this awakening of the last semifinals of the Conference in the West started in tension. The tension on the floor after the premature expulsion of Rudy Gobert, the tension in the heated tribunes of the Vivint Smart Home Arena, which were happy to conspire each whistle and every shot taken by James Harden aka Bernard Floppeur. The perfect introduction to a beautiful trench war? Uh, almost.
Almost, because to make a war it takes two armies. And that night, there was only one army, and she was playing at home and in purple. How not to point fingers this morning on the dubious behavior of the Rockets? Frankly … Back in the game with the sole intention of taking away Rudy Gobert alone, the first mission was completed without too much damage. The smart defense of James Harden for some, a flop flop for the others, but in any case Rudy Gobert turned into Rudy Gobelet and at that time it was said that the Jazz would have had difficulty ending the game. evening without a paw or two of broken. Except that it is ultimately the opposite effect that will occur. The players of Quin Snyder? Galvanized by the turn of events. Those of Mike D & # 39; Antoni? Ankylosed as at least thirty degrees. But it is rather the heat in the room, and Ricky Rubio and Joe Ingles will play the old pillars of the bench, those who know all the tricks to cheat at 421. The Jazz imposes its rhythm, imposes its paw, and the gap rises quickly like James Harden, Chris Paul co. cry in front of the referees. Every whistle is subject to the complaints of Texas, and the goal of the Ramesse band is no longer to score baskets but to fine-tune everything that can be rigged. The misfortune of basketball is not that, and even if Donovan Mitchell succeeds in the task of being even more useless than Rudy, the Mormons will make the Rockets pay their manifestation of arrogance.
More ten, plus fifteen, twenty plus, plus … thirty, all participate in the party party of Youtah, Derrick Favors beats his high season to honor an unpredictable game moment, Joe Ingles dances his hunched carcass and puts them on
Rockets Baskets from a distance, Rubio manages the whistle as you see fit, Jae Crowder takes care of the uprights after the locker room … In short, everyone goes there with his little twinge behind the Rockets' ears that deserve nothing but kicking in ass. Smiling smiles, dangling arms, personal initiatives that take precedence over everything that may seem the collective, Harden and CP3 that seem to have an internal competition from the one who will cause the greatest number of errors but that has no problems. look at the score of the evening once … a very nice show of what Houston can show worse. And so we think that their place in this season is finally well deserved, and then we say that Jazz has the opposite of the group needed to finally launch its season. Because if none of the Rockets had the idea to push the necessary screams, it's the entire roster that has rolled up its sleeves for the Jazz. The kind of team that can compensate for a certain lack of talent with envy and the hustle and bustle, while opposite the opposite happened, since these gentlemen are apparently too strong to get their hands dirty.
Gentlemen, keep playing while walking, respecting no one, and the shoals of the Western Conference will end up turning your squads around. For Jazz it is different, so we start from a fourth win in five games, and the guys have at least shown that they are able to manage a record without their two best players. Is this a real team? Yes. One of the Rockets is this season? No, no.