The score was 119 and 118. A heated back and forth match that had been going full tilt since the start of the game.

The clock was ticking fair and merciless. Hopes and desperation clashed in a flurry of cheering and jeering alike across the jam-packed stadium.

Nine seconds remained, and a certain man dribbled pass the half-court. The crowd went crazy with excitement while the man kept his composure and handle steady.

A second guard immediately rushed up to him, but the man kept his eyes low, seemingly oblivious to the sudden development.

A guard reaching, hoping to knock the ball out of the man's hands. And he failed.

The bouncing of the ball sped out of rhythm, seemingly dodging the guard's hand and he secure his footing and side, securing the ball.

Though the steal was not successful, the pressure was still on. They two-timed the man, with the third guard zoning just outside the paint, ready to blitz and cut the way into the wing, or down on the baseline.

All eyes were placed on the man, who was still keeping his body low, switching his feet as the ball bounced beneath them in an unpredictable yet mesmerizing rhythm.

They couldn't see his face clearly because he kept his eyes grounded, watching his opponent's feet and the shadows on the court.

A risky and unique style. But no one criticized the man. The whole world was done with that phase.

It has turned into was something they looked forward.

As the guards kept the pressure up, the clock hit the four seconds mark. 

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Seemingly out of nowhere, a screen was set up behind the much smaller guard, and the man disappeared on the spot in the very second.

He didn't call the screen, but he didn't need to.

His team had done their part to create a space, and the man seized on that small window of chance, cutting from the opposite side and straight into the inside.

The guard was close on the man's tail, weighing his choice whether to foul the man or risk it and tried his best to hold his own against the man dab as the basketball genius of the century.

Three seconds more to go, and if the home team could keep their defense just like this, they would be able to win the game and bag the championship for the season.

The man, still handling the ball danced on the court. Changing his tempo, switching his handling.

But the enemy didn't leave him finish cooking their teammates. They point guard who had regained his footing quickly circled around the screen and zoned the man's way to inside the paint, while the taller guard, who had found comfort from his peer immediately inched forward and closed in on the man, doing all he can to prevent the man from shooting. Or even to think about shooting the ball at all.

Two seconds left and the whole stadium went ballistic, spiked with adrenaline as the climax inched closer.

The man holding the ball, suddenly turned around, shocking his opponents.

They thought he had given up, and that split second of gap was fatal.

The clock hit the one second mark, and before the knew it, the man had jumped with a fade away, rotating mid-air with his eyes finally locked on the rim on the distance.

Both the guards jumped on their feet to try and upset the shot, but they were nowhere near touching the ball.

It made a hypnotizing long and tall arc. 

All of a sudden, only silence remained in the stadium.

Everyone was watching the ball flew beautifully and majestically on the air, into the basket.

And as the buzzer rang harsh, their heartbeats only beat faster on ecstasy.

The man landed with his fist up in the air.

Followed by the clean sound of the basket.