This was a wonderful moment, one that's already getting great play in the blogosphere (start with Matt Moore's very fine account authored only an hour after the game ended). It even sounds poetic: Sundiata Slays the King! What will stick with me, though, are the less heralded moments that led to and framed this dramatic finish. Some will justifiably point out that Kyle Korver had a big part in the win, most especially with a crazy behind the backboard baseline jumper with 5 seconds left that cut the lead to one and set up the final dramatics. 

Rewind to the start of the final period, when Gaines entered a desultory game full of mistakes and missed opportunities for both teams. I was rooting for Gaines from the moment he entered the game, as I was made aware of his story thanks to this video of his callup to the Jazz. I admired the way he pushed the ball, getting past Cav defenders in the lane, finding Boozer on the wing frequently for opportunities at the rim. I loved the way he finished an and-1 on a fastbreak, the confidence in his overall demeanor lifting what was a dreary, poorly played game to another level. And suddenly the Jazz overcame a 3rd quarter deficit to lead by 12 points.

But I also noticed Mo Williams, even with five fouls, start to pressure Gaines harder, becoming more physical with Gaines, making him work more to run the offense. These "welcome to the league" sequences between Mo and Sundiata played out as a game within a game, the experienced guard on one of the league's best teams turning the rookie's aggression against him, with perhaps the memory fresh in Mo's mind of when he was just starting in the league, mired on Jerry Sloan's bench fighting for minutes behind no less than four other guards. 

And then the 12 point lead started to vanish, and Boozer had to admonish Gaines on one possession to slow down and maintain his composure. Gaines was finally replaced with 3 minutes left in the game after a turnover, with the lead down to 7 points. He wouldn't return until that final possession, Jazz down two, when it looked like Lebron had permanently put his stamp on the storyline, and it was just a question of the Cavs maintaining their own crumbling composure in the final seconds.

When it all finally played out, the ball finding its way to Gaines with a weird inevitability after the primary option (Korver) was well covered...well, it was amazing the way you would expect, the ball sailing in the air with a perfect arc that screamed "good" as soon as it left his hand, the ball falling through the net in unison with the buzzer and the backboard light flashing, right out of a Hollywood script. And naturally, Gaines was knocked on his back as the shot went in, with the camera panning wide to the crowd jumping out of their seats, confetti streaming through the air, and happy teammates rushing the floor to congratulate the rookie. 

We've seen it all before, maybe become hardened to it a little because all the sports movies have the buzzer-beater template set a little too much in stone, the highlight editors at all the networks and on youtube have given us our fill of "where amazing happens", and even the great players (especially Kobe) have made some insane buzzer-beaters look almost routine lately. But as NBA fans, I'm not sure we've seen something quite as good and as improbable as this in a real game scenario in a while. 

Beyond the look of joy and bewilderment on Gaines' own face and his teammates, it's worth nothing a brief moment that ended up edited out of most of the final highlight reels. The camera for the TNT broadcast -- in the midst of capturing all the usual trappings of celebration from hero, teammates, and fans -- cut very briefly to Mo Williams, the player who hounded Gaines. At first sullen, he flashed a smile that in a split second was wry and beatific, amplified by the light of the arena catching his face as he was making a beeline with his teammates into the darkness of the locker rooms. 

Williams is not a popular player outside of the Cavalier fanbase -- his jittery, feisty style of play can come across as someone too full of himself if you're the opponent. Maybe his ambiguous reaction threw a wrench in the story the NBA video editors wanted to tell, and we were left with the focus on the Jazz's celebration in highlight videos circulating on NBA.com in the hours following the game.

But whatever one thinks of Mo (or the Cavaliers), I couldn't get his expression out of my mind after the euphoria of the game winner had dissipated. Mo had that look that said: "Respect....Damn." His smile may have given off a little bit of affection for a player coming up in circumstances not that different from his start in the league, trying to make the most of the spotlight, however fleeting.  For just a flash, after all the trench warfare and having a victory snatched away so bitterly, Mo looked happy for his adversary. Forget handshakes or post-game interview cliches, this underlined the specialness of the moment and the game as much as anything.