The second half had barely started when Ryan got subbed out—just four minutes in.
Roares were up by over 40, after all.
Still, in those brief minutes, Ryan quietly added 4 more points and 2 rebounds—bringing him to 18 and 12 on the night.
Oh, right. And 7 assists.
Meanwhile, Axton, determined to salvage some pride, played the entire third quarter. With Roares easing off the gas, he managed to claw back a bit of the deficit.
End of the third: Boulders took the quarter 30–22.
But overall? Still a 30-point blowout. 105–75.
Garbage time had arrived.
Boulders waved the white flag early, emptying their bench and sending in the deepest reserves they had—guys whose jerseys still had fold lines.
As for Roares? No surprises there: "The Garbage Time Big Four"—DeShawn, Brent, Jalen, and Omar—trotted out, joined by—yep—Ryan.
Crawford’s message was subtle but clear: go get your numbers. If a coach sends a starter out during garbage time, especially when the other team’s given up, it’s asking for backlash. But Ryan? He wasn’t a starter—just a rookie three games into his rotation spot. No one could fault a rookie trying to make a case.
No clipboard. No drawn-up plays. As Ryan walked toward the scorers’ table, he huddled with the Garbage Time Big Four.
"Look," he said. "Take your shots. I’ll crash the glass. Oh—and let me grab the defensive boards too."
DeShawn grinned. "You’re the boss right now."
Ryan brought the ball up, scanning Boulders’ defense.
Honestly, this lineup was worse than the third-stringers he’d eviscerated in his debut against Lumina. At least Lumina was a legit contender—Boulders were straight-up bottom-feeders. That night, he’d dropped 35 in a quarter with 100% Westbrook sync. Tonight? He still had Russ’ 100% bounce. So yeah, he wasn’t worried.
No screens. No fancy sets.
A quick crossover, a hard push—he blew by his defender, gliding past the help side with a euro step. One last defender at the rim—the center—too late.
The ball rolled around the rim... then fell out.
Damn. 75.5% Westbrook sync. That touch? Still a little iffy.
But no worries. Bounce engaged.
Ryan exploded back up, out-jumping the Boulders’ backup center, ripped down the board, and before gravity could catch him—slammed it home with a two-handed jam.
Mason: "Ryan’s at 20. 30+ seems inevitable."
Wilson: "Try 40+. Boulders’ defense is a welcome mat."
Boulders came back the other way, swinging the ball around before hoisting a three.
Ryan had already anticipated the miss. Before the shooter even landed, he was sprinting to the predicted spot. Omar even boxed out the center for him—and grabbed it without jumping.
He pushed the pace, shook his defender again, and drew help. Instead of forcing it, he kicked to DeShawn in the corner.
Ryan blinked. Bro, at least look at the rim...
Already moving before the ball clanked, Ryan shoved the small forward out of rebounding position and grabbed the rebound.
This time he swung it cross-court to Brent—corner three.
Lightning-quick release.
Another one—didn’t even look.
He knew it the moment it left Brent’s hands—glass.
Ryan was already camped under the rim.
The ball kissed the backboard and dropped straight down, dead center.
He was up before any of the three Boulders defenders even reacted, snatching the rebound clean.
The moment his sneakers touched hardwood, he went right back up for the putback dunk. But this time, the defense had recovered - three hands in his face, bodies crashing into him. At the last second, he adjusted to a floater.
Too strong. Damn this touch tonight.
The ball bounced right back to him like a loyal dog. Another board. He spotted Omar cutting baseline and dished it off. Omar went up with a floater. Brick.
This time, with the defense distracted by Omar, he had a clear path to slam it home. But he spotted Jalen, completely unguarded at the free-throw line.
Fine. Let him eat too.
The pass was crisp. Jalen’s shot was cleaner.
The broadcast booth erupted as Mason nearly jumped out of his seat. "Ryan just grabbed four offensive boards in one possession - plus the assist!"
Wilson shook his head in disbelief. "Is he... stat-padding now?"
Mason hesitated. "I mean... I don’t know."
It took Ryan 20 seconds to rack up those four boards.
Back in the NBA, there was a guy who did it even crazier: Kenneth Faried, a.k.a. "The Manimal."
He once went 1-on-4 under the glass, grabbing four offensive boards in ten seconds flat.
From that point on, Ryan had taken over.
On defense, it wasn’t even a question anymore. Every missed shot from the Boulders? Ryan’s board. His teammates didn’t bother chasing it—they boxed out and cleared the lane for him, like stagehands setting the spotlight.
Offensively, it was relentless. Ryan crashed the paint possession after possession, collapsing the defense, then kicking the ball out. The Boulders’ bench was unraveling.
Every Roares player that touched the ball fired without hesitation—barely a second to aim.
Most of the rebounds? Still Ryan’s.
9:14 on the clock. Ryan barreled down the lane again, drew in the defense, and whipped a pass to Deshawn in the corner. The defender barely moved. No closeout, no contest—just eyes locked on Ryan under the rim, hoping for the miss.
But not every shot clanks, especially when it’s wide open.
Deshawn knocked it down.
The broadcast table erupted again.
"That’s assist number ten for Ryan—triple-double!" Mason shouted.
Wilson leaned in. "Honestly, forget the triple-double. We should be asking if he’s about to break the rebounding record tonight."
24 points. 22 rebounds. 10 assists.
Roares led by 38, 117–79.
From that moment, every Roares possession turned into a live stat tracker for Ryan:
The game itself? Honestly, ugly. The Boulders’ bench looked defeated. Garbage time is supposed to be fun—a chance for the deep bench guys to show something. But instead, they were being hunted. Torn apart. They wanted it to end.
The crowd? They loved it. When you’re a long-suffering fan, a blowout win is a gift. It sure beats paying to watch your team fight hard and still lose.
Final two minutes. Mason’s voice hit playoff intensity: "Ryan has 17 rebounds this quarter—one more and he breaks the ABA single-quarter rebound record!"
Wilson added: "29 total boards - five more and he breaks..."
"GOT IT!" Mason’s scream drowned in the arena’s eruption. "18th quarter rebound!"
Wilson finished: "Now just four needed for the game record..."
Two minutes later, the final buzzer blared.
Final score: Roares 141, Boulders 90.
(Quarters: 46–21, 37–24, 22–30, 36–15)
33 points, 34 rebounds, 17 assists.(Other stats omitted)
An outrageously huge triple-double.
(Note: A ridiculous but not impossible stat line — the NBA single-game rebound record is 55, held by Wilt Chamberlain.)
Ryan broke the ABA records for most rebounds in a single quarter and in a full game—along with several others.
Unfortunately, it still wasn’t enough to help the Roares break the record for the largest margin of victory.