In the tunnel just off the court, Marcus Hall folds his arms, eyes locked on the scoreboard. We’re right there. Trust the depth, trust the pace, he says into his headset. If Sky wants to go small, greenlight it. His voice is steady, calm. We built this team for moments like this. Courtside, you can feel it—Marcus doesn’t just manage the Solstice. He believes in every inch of it.
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