blogombal Chapter 77 The Art of Praising to Death
Chapter 77 The Art of Praising to Death
New York, Manhattan.
The New York City outside the window seemed to be in a frenzy.
From Fifth Avenue to the Brooklyn Bridge, you can see young people wearing Knicks number 8 jerseys everywhere.
On the famous Nasdaq screen in Times Square, highlights of last night's thrilling game are being played on a loop.
The image freezes on the moment Li Xiangbei pulls up for a three-pointer over James' head.
The subtitles are extremely exaggerated: "The Takeover: New Gods of New York".
In the ESPN studio, Barkley:
"Forget Michael Jordan! That's all in the past! This is Lee's era! He beat LeBron! He scored 52 points against Kobe! He's God's chosen one to save the Knicks!!"
This kind of shameless and even absurd praise would make any rational basketball fan feel embarrassed.
But for New Yorkers, who were extremely euphoric at the moment, this was simply the most beautiful hymn.
Li Xiangbei sat in the apartment.
"Buzzing".
The agent's phone call.
"Lee! Listen to me!" Duffy's voice was excited. "Under Armour has gone mad! That limited edition 'Kingslayer' T-shirt they launched overnight, the one with the silhouette of a shattered crown... the website crashed three times! Three times!"
"Planck said the sewing machines in Baltimore factories are practically smoking! You're now the biggest money-printing machine in America!"
Li Xiangbei cut off a piece of bacon.
"Tell Planck not to print too many."
Li Xiangbei's voice was calm.
"The crown hasn't really fallen yet. This is just the regular season. The higher you're lifted, the harder you fall. Wall Street should understand this better than I do."
……
10:15 AM.
The recovery training, which was scheduled to begin at 10:00, was missing several members from the team.
D'Antoni frowned and glanced at the clock on the wall.
"Bang!"
The locker room door was pushed open.
Gallinari and Wilson strolled in leisurely.
The two hadn't even changed into their training clothes yet, and were still carrying Starbucks takeout coffee in their hands, with lazy smiles on their faces like they were still hungover.
"Danilo! Wilson! You're late!" D'Antoni said sternly. "This is practice time!"
Gallinari responded with a grin:
"Sorry, Coach, we celebrated too late last night. And you know how traffic is in New York right now. There were fans everywhere trying to stop my car for autographs, I couldn't just run them over, could I? Haha!"
A burst of laughter erupted on the training field.
Randolph even whistled, "That's right! The fans are so enthusiastic!"
Nobody took it seriously.
After all, they had just defeated the top-ranked Cavaliers in the East, and everyone was a hero, so it seemed only natural for them to enjoy some privileges.
Li Xiangbei is practicing three-point shooting in the corner.
He stopped what he was doing upon hearing the laughter.
He glanced at his watch, then at the steaming cup of coffee in Gallinari's hand.
He didn't lose his temper on the spot.
He simply turned around and said to a somewhat embarrassed D'Antoni:
"Mike, let's get started. Some people might think they're already All-Stars and don't need to practice."
But the group, blinded by victory, ignored their leader's hint.
……
After the training session.
The locker room, which used to be filled with tactical discussions and mutual encouragement, has now become an extension of the arena of fame and fortune.
Sports Illustrated reporters were exceptionally allowed into the locker room for interviews.
Randolph became the core of the expansion.
This large, fat man, shirtless, was boasting to the reporter:
"LeBron? Hey man, to be honest, he's just so-so."
Randolph adopted a disdainful expression.
"Did you see how I defended him in the fourth quarter? I was like a wall! That so-called king couldn't get past me at all! If this were the playoffs, I'm confident I could keep him from averaging 20 points per game! I'd make him cry!"
The reporters were frantically taking notes.
In fact, if it weren't for Li Xiangbei's constant help defense that day, coupled with Randolph's vicious fouls, he would have been completely outplayed by James long ago.
But under the spotlight, people's memories are always easily rewritten.
"So, what preparations do you have for tomorrow's opponent, the Washington Wizards?" the reporter asked.
The Wizards are currently second to last in the Eastern Conference and are a bottom-feeding team that has completely tanked.
Randolph waved his hand:
"The Wizards? Who's on that team? Jamison? Come on, there's no need to prepare for that kind of team."
He glanced at David Lee beside him.
"I think we can clock out at halftime. Seriously, what I'm more concerned about now is which nightclub has the best drinks when we go to Miami for our away game next week. What do you say, David?"
The locker room was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.
……
D'Antoni, somewhat worried, found Li Xiangbei watching the video.
"Li, the atmosphere in the team is off. They're too restless."
"They're completely disregarding tomorrow's game. Do we need to hold a meeting? Reiterate discipline? Or go and give them another dressing down?"
Li Xiangbei turned off the recording.
"Mike, there's no point in having a meeting now."
Li Xiangbei shook his head.
"They just beat the top team in the East and are being adored by all of New York. They're floating on air, their ears are filled with praise, and they can't hear anything on the ground."
"At this point, even if you talk yourself hoarse, they'll just think you're a long-winded old man."
"What should we do then?" D'Antoni asked anxiously.
"It's very simple."
"Only when they fall and get hurt will they realize that Earth has gravity."
"We're playing the Wizards tomorrow night. Let them play however they want. Let them play loosely on defense or try to score one-on-one, ignore them."
"Some pitfalls need to be experienced firsthand before they'll learn their lesson. That's more effective than lecturing them a hundred times."
D'Antoni was stunned.
He looked at the young man in front of him.
This guy, who's not even 20 years old, is actually plotting to make his team lose?
In exchange for that iron-blooded discipline in the playoffs?
Li Xiangbei got up and left:
"Get ready, Mike. We'll really get disciplined after tomorrow night."
……
Reagan National Airport.
The group of "heroes" who had just conquered Cleveland walked out of the airport wearing sunglasses and headphones, laughing and joking.
They didn't look like a professional team playing an away game; they looked more like a tourist group.
On the other side of the city.
In the Wizards' locker room.
Veteran Jamison and forward Caron are sitting in front of the television.
On the screen, Randolph's arrogant interview video was playing—"Clocking out at halftime."
Jamison turned off the TV.
"Checking out at halftime?"
Jamison sneered, his voice filled with anger at being slighted.
"Since you're so eager to leave work..."
"Then tomorrow night, we'll make you swallow those words back, along with your teeth."