Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

"#%@￥#"

"Damn it!" Spike Lee stood up, roaring at Yu Fei, "That's not what you're supposed to do! You damn rookie have no right to show off!"

"Spree is going to teach you a lesson!"

Yu Fei had infuriated the fans at MSG, not only with his extra antics on the rim after a dunk but also with his perfect reenactment of Westbrook's classic celebration upon landing—every Westbrook fan would remember that move, catching Durant's alley-oop pass and carelessly taking big strides after the slam dunk.

"This kid really knows how to make an entrance," Wizards' assistant coach Johnny Bach mused. "There's no better stage than MSG."

Jordan sat quietly, watching Yu Fei freely showing off his talent, something he could no longer touch.

Even though he had skills beyond Yu Fei's reach, on nights when he couldn't find his touch—like tonight—he would struggle.

But Yu Fei just had to take the floor to be like a monster unleashed, his talent visibly unmistakable.

Compared to Kwame Brown, he was more like a number one pick.

The infuriating thing was, this lottery ticket that was a third scratched off was completely defiant to him.

Jordan could clearly feel the young man's dislike for him, but what puzzled him the most was that he didn't know where he had made a bad impression.

Truth be told, it had been a long time since Jordan had sincerely cultivated a relationship.

It was always others who fawned over him, putting up with his bad temper and mockery, while Yu Fei had zero tolerance for his temper and trash talk, which made Jordan uncomfortable.

That's why Yu Fei felt Jordan had a long way to go as a person.

Because he had been a god for too long, he couldn't recognize the difference between the heavens and reality.

The current Yu Fei had no time to deal with Jordan; he had to meet Sprewell's tsunami-like offensive onslaught.

"Your dunk was nice, but I didn't like your celebration," Sprewell said bluntly. "That's not what rookies are supposed to do."

Yu Fei's response was something his teammates didn't want to hear: "Oh really, I didn't know there's something you shouldn't do on the court apart from choking people."

At that moment, Sprewell's facial expression underwent a violent change, more terrifying than Naruto's reaction when Pain killed Hinata before him.

Yu Fei's trash talk had brought Sprewell back to that afternoon four years ago, which brought his career to its lowest point.

All of a sudden, he went from a promising young player to a villain in the media's eyes.

In the week when Sprewell almost strangled P.J. Carlesimo, the media across America published 484 articles to criticize him, and he almost lost everything he had worked hard for.

The spotlight of Big Apple City and the support from the outside world made Sprewell a star again, and he thought he'd never look back.

Then, Yu Fei's trash talk brought back unwelcome memories.

"It looks like no one has ever taught you how to fucking talk properly!" said Sprewell fiercely, pressing against Yu Fei and calling for the ball.

Yu Fei tried to use his wingspan to play aggressive front defense, and at 190 pounds, Sprewell didn't have a weight advantage, but he matched Yu Fei in strength.

This reminded Yu Fei that he still needed to work hard in the weight room; matching Sprewell was not nearly enough, especially since the latter wasn't known for his physical play to begin with.

In fact, it wouldn't be out of place to consider Sprewell a shooting guard. If not for Allan Houston having difficulty adapting to the physical play at the small forward position, Sprewell was indeed supposed to be a two-guard.

Yu Fei failed to use his physical advantage because Sprewell's core strength was stable enough to suppress him and draw a foul.

The referee's attitude did not allow Yu Fei to blatantly offend Sprewell's cylinder, so Yu Fei changed his strategy.

Then, with lightning speed, Sprewell blew past Yu Fei's defense and scored on a layup.

"I'll fucking teach you how to speak," Sprewell bellowed.

As Sprewell was schooling the rookie, the cheers and curses of MSG also rose. This was an intensity Yu Fei was experiencing for the first time.

Yu Fei very much understood New Yorkers' love for Sprewell because the public's contempt for sports stars was cyclical unless you played the crowd like Irving. Even after incidents like Kobe in Eagle County, LeBron making decisions against his legacy, or Durant taking the hardest road, as long as there's a breathtaking performance on the court, even the world's most despicable malice can be evaporated by direct visual stimulation.

All Sprewell did was a bit of minor work—helping the '99 Knicks reach the finals after Ewing was ruled out for the season—then he became the most beloved basketball player in New York State, reaping rewards on and off the court, and even the New Yorkers could tolerate his mercurial temperament and occasional reckless playing style, viewing it as his personal charm.

This was New York, a city with an almost pathological worship of sports heroes. They love stars who can "start over," like NFL star Lawrence Taylor, MLB star Dwight Gooden, and Darryl Strawberry, who were both drug addicts and criminals yet were treated like heroes when they returned to the field representing New York sports teams.

But Yu Fei didn't think Sprewell could make him hold his tongue.

Not even Jordan managed to do that, and even at 38, Jordan was more formidable than the current Sprewell.

Yu Fei handled the ball, while Sprewell's defensive intensity was clearly excessive. He even used his hands to illegally block Yu Fei's advance in the frontcourt, ignoring the rules.

Rookies had no rights, and Yu Fei's protest was in vain. He could only protect the ball with his back and then pass it to Chris Whitney to complete the handoff.

Laettner called for a high post position, ready to act as the pivot.

That was a style of play Collins liked.

However, due to the well-known conflict between Fei and Laettner, any cooperation between the two was doomed to fail.

When Fei cut open for an opportunity, Laettner chose to pass the ball to Hamilton, who was one step inside the three-point line.

Hamilton received the ball and shot directly.

"Bang!"

The sound of the ball hitting iron was music to the ears.

Fei didn't understand why the outside stars of this era liked the long two-point shots, just a step inside the three-point line.

No, not all of them.

At least, Sprewell was smart enough to know a three-pointer was worth one more point than a two.

In just a few seconds, Sprewell arrived in the frontcourt, and with no one in front of him, he took a three-point shot.

This was a shot that refreshed Fei's understanding of the game.

It was 2001, and someone dared to shoot a trailing three-pointer in a fast break where they had the numerical advantage?

And that someone was Sprewell, who you would never have guessed would have such insight.

"Swish!"

Sprewell's three-pointer hit its mark, extending the lead to 12 points, and Collins called for a timeout.

With three minutes left in the first quarter, Collins still hadn't subbed in Kwame Brown.

Christian Laettner, who let personal grievances onto the court, and the utterly useless Jahidi White were substituted out. Popeye Jones came on to play the five position, Tyronn Nesby took the three spot, and Fei moved up to the four position.

Looking over his own team's lineup, Fei wanted to laugh but couldn't.

The only player who could be considered a spacing threat on the court was Whitney; Hamilton's three-point percentage last season was 27%...

It really was a primary focus on muscle basketball; anyone who shot threes was a dog.

"Frye, listen, I need you to establish an advantage in your matchup with Kurt Thomas," Collins explained in detail. "Your opponent is a blue-collar power forward with solid fundamentals. He only poses a mid-range shooting threat from the left side, and you don't need to worry about physicality, he's even lighter than you... If you can establish an advantage in the matchup, we can free up Rip."

Collins had many flaws, adulating Jordan, being emotionally unstable, etc., but he also had strengths, such as being an exceptional basketball specialist whose on-the-spot guidance was often effective.

Many famous coaches are known for their poor adaptability during games, but Collins was the opposite. In the professional basketball world, he was known for "If every offensive play could call a timeout, Doug Collins would win every game."

Even with the assumption of "all the coaches in history," Collins' adaptability in-game was among the top tier.

After listening to him, Fei asked, "Can I interpret that as I've been given full authority to handle the offensive positioning?"

"Anyway, Michael's resting, you can see it that way," Collins said with a light smile.

"OK, as the Wizards' temporary core, I have a suggestion."

"Speak."

"Let me play the three position, with Kwame at four."

"Good suggestion," Collins still smiled, "but I reject it. Kwame's not ready yet."

Fei was entirely at a loss for words; if Collins wanted Brown to play even a little role on the court, he wouldn't have deemed him completely useless.

This was the second time Fei tried to get Brown into the rotation.

But he failed because he still lacked one critical thing: the authority as a core leader.

If it had been Jordan, a single word would have been enough.

But Fei couldn't do it, he was only a temporary core.

Before going onto the court, Fei looked deeply at Brown, expressing regret for his plight.

Buddy, you really tried your best, just keep sitting on that little bench and hunt the coach's mom.

(1) This number isn't something I came up with on the spot. The New York Times provided the figure in a whitewashing article for The Madman in 2000, although whether the author made it up, I have no idea.

PS: The scheduled time for going to the paid section should be tomorrow at noon, if I remember correctly... It's the last day of the month, so I quietly ask for a monthly ticket.