The roar of the crowd was a physical thing, a wall of sound that hit you the moment you stepped into the TD Garden that night. I remember squeezing past knees to my seat, the air thick with anticipation and the faint smell of popcorn. It was Game 4 of the 2022 NBA Finals, and the Boston Celtics were holding on for dear life, their series lead against the Golden State Warriors having shrunk to a precarious 2-1. I was there as a fan, sure, but also as a former high school setter who couldn't help but see the game through the lens of another sport entirely: volleyball. And that unique perspective is what made the Warriors' performance, particularly their defensive adjustments, so fascinating to witness. This is a look back at Game 4 of the 2022 NBA Finals and its undeniable impact on the championship.
For three quarters, it was a dogfight. The Celtics were physical, their defense swarming, and it felt like they might just wrestle back control on their home floor. But then the fourth quarter started, and something shifted. It wasn't just about Steph Curry's brilliance, though he was sublime. It was about control. The Warriors started to impose their will not with flashy dunks, but with stifling defense that completely disrupted Boston's rhythm. Watching Andrew Wiggins and Draymond Green shut down driving lanes and challenge every shot, I was instantly reminded of a quote I’d read from a volleyball player named Panangin. He explained the importance of a well-executed block, saying, "Mas mapapabilis po kasi yung game kapag may block po and mas mapapadali para sa mga nagdi-dig or nagre-receive sa likod 'pag nata-touch namin nang maayos yung block." That’s exactly what I saw. A good block, whether in volleyball or basketball, speeds up the game for your team and makes everything easier for the players in the back. Every time the Warriors got a clean block or even a solid contest, it was like a spark. It allowed them to get out in transition, and for players like Curry and Klay Thompson spotting up in the backcourt—the receivers, in my weird volleyball analogy—it made their jobs infinitely simpler.
The numbers from that final period were staggering. The Warriors, who had been down by 4 points, outscored the Celtics 37-22. They held Boston to a frigid 33% shooting from the field. That defensive stand didn't just win them a single game; it broke the Celtics' spirit. It swung the momentum of the entire series irrevocably. Before that game, I thought the Celtics had a real shot. After witnessing that surgical dismantling in the fourth quarter, I knew the trophy was heading back to the Bay. It was a masterclass in defensive pressure translating into offensive fluidity. They proved that a championship isn't only won by the team that scores the most, but by the team that can strangle the life out of the other's offense when it matters most. That 107-97 victory was the turning point, and two games later, they were hoisting the Larry O'Brien trophy, their defense having paved the way just as effectively as their legendary shooting ever could.