This game almost defies description. In the first 2.5 quarters we looked like a team that had been run over by a steamroller. We barely moved. The offense was stagnant, the defense was fractured, the rebounding wasn't great. The pace was abysmal. We played right into Philadelphia's hands. The 76'ers' guards were making our backcourt players look like poodles next to Dobermans. Ill-groomed poodles at that. We had maybe half of a good game out of all of our players combined. (Channing was doing well.) The passivity and disjointed play were amazing.
Then all of a sudden midway through the third Brandon Roy started taking over with an assist from his wingman Steve Blake. The old, familiar buzz started going through the arena as we chipped away at the lead Philadelphia had built. When we were within 1 at the end of the third you knew they were in trouble. Sure enough...look, up in the sky! It's a bird! It's a plane! IT FRIGGIN' DUNKED SO HARD IT LEFT A SPALDING IMPRINT ON THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD.
Super Trout to the rescue.
Travis started hitting every shot he threw up. Jarrett Jack, coming off his worst half in recent memory, started whipping passes and plowing into the lane. The Assassin James Jones started stroking. Frye continued cooking. Between him and Outlaw Lamarcus never saw the light of day in the fourth quarter. By the time it was all said and done we had gone on a 21-0 run and slammed the door so hard on Philly that they drew four technicals trying to get over it. We outscored them in the fourth 35-9 and barely let them have a shot at the basket for all of the turnovers we caused. It was a tour de force...downright scary. You'll go a long time before seeing a quarter like that again.
Honestly I'm not sure there's anything else to say. This game was so odd you'd have a hard time drawing lasting lessons from it. It was old Blazers and new Blazers all wrapped into one. Pretty much all you can do is marvel at 13 straight and shake your head.