Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters-Chapter 460 - 314: Beat Him, and You’ll Be Number One

Chapter 460: Chapter 314: Beat Him, and You’ll Be Number One

May 22, 2006

It was the day of the Eastern Conference Finals’ first game.

With summer arriving, the heating system of the Bradley Center was no longer an issue, and it had once again become a beloved away venue.

However, Shaquille O’Neal didn’t like it.

Or to be more precise, Shaquille O’Neal didn’t like any event where Yu Fei was present.

It was like a person who had developed post-traumatic stress from childhood abuse or some other significant trauma, Yu Fei’s face, Yu Fei’s photos, Yu Fei’s name, they all reminded Shaquille O’Neal of the past five years he had gone through.

Sometimes, Shaquille O’Neal couldn’t help but think, was Yu Fei some kind of kryptonite sent by God; why couldn’t he, who once dominated the NBA, win against him?

It was a question that Shaquille O’Neal still couldn’t figure out to this day.

His neck was adorned with headphones, resting over his ears: Stevie Wonder’s “Pastime Paradise” crackled just beneath his chin, quiet enough for others to mishear the lyrics, yet loud enough to be annoying.

Shaquille O’Neal looked at the game plan Assistant Coach Spo had written for tonight’s game: “Let’s go hunting.”

Then Alonzo Mourning came, looking formidable and prepared for the game just as he had been against Detroit in the previous series, playing the kind of declarative “I came for the championship” games that Mourning loved and that Riley appreciated; games that fully demonstrated what kind of team the Miami Heat was.

Just as Alonzo Mourning was about to say something to Shaquille O’Neal, he got scared seeing the stern face of Shaq approaching him. Then, like a fool, Shaq kept nodding his head to the beat of the music. It was only when the two giants got very close that Shaquille O’Neal’s seemingly foolish face suddenly lit up with a smile, making Mourning lose his seriousness, and they both burst into laughter together.

As for why they laughed, they didn’t know themselves; the room was just left with the voice of Stevie Wonder singing.

Night fell, and fans began pouring into the Bradley Center.

Since Yu Fei had come to Milwaukee, it was rare to see the Bucks’ home arena not full.

Even during the testing last season, the fans still largely supported the team. In turn, Yu Fei brought in a scoring performance averaging 36 points a game, which, although roughly the same as Kobe’s offensive showing for the season, had a clear distinction: one was completed in the last year of the handchecking ban, while the other saw free rein after the ban was lifted.

This made the Bucks fans even more supportive of the team.

But, the market issue for the Bucks was never about attendance.

Any team with a superstar athlete never worries about that.

Their real issues lay outside the arena.

However, that was not the concern at the moment.

Taking his teammates onto the court, Yu Fei specifically picked out Anfernee Hardaway for a one-on-one.

“Penny, you’re of that age and still manage to encounter that big pig in the playoffs; don’t you have anything to say?”

Anfernee found Yu Fei’s joke rather helpless.

For those lovers who didn’t part on good terms, they would care whether their ex was doing better than themselves. And in the NBA, partnerships were like publicly scrutinized couples; once they broke up, who was doing well and who wasn’t, it was all under the public eye.

Shaquille O’Neal had built his reputation in Los Angeles as one of the most dominant centers in history, while Hardaway quickly crumbled under the weight after taking up Shaq’s mantle.

He finally understood why Shaquille O’Neal had allowed himself to get so fat; otherwise, he wouldn’t have been able to handle it.

But clarity didn’t change anything; comparing oneself to others could be infuriating, Hardaway could only envy, be jealous of, and hate the success of Shaquille O’Neal, venting his frustrations on his wife at home.

“I don’t care about that,” Anfernee said. “I’m not the deciding factor.”

“No, you can be,” Yu Fei said, kindling some hope in Anfernee’s heart.

“You mean…”

“Although we can’t expect much performance from you on the court,” Anfernee’s face visibly sank, even though he said nothing, his expression clearly read “Then why bother saying it,” “but I can use your feud with him to trash talk, and if he gets mad and causes the Heat to lose, then our victory will be partly your doing.”

Anfernee Hardaway looked at Yu Fei with a subtle expression.

“What do you think? Do you agree to let me trash talk using you?” Yu Fei asked with a smile.

Anfernee felt he had entered a den of thieves. Though he had never won any significant honors, he had once been an All-NBA team player, officially stamped as top five in the League; and now he was reduced to being someone else’s verbal ammunition?

“You guys didn’t sign me just for this purpose, did you?”

“How could that be?” Yu Fei said with earnest, “Who wouldn’t need a veteran as experienced as you who can play multiple positions (but not get on the court)? Let me tell you, getting you on a minimum contract was like robbery…”

Anfernee hesitated for only a second between saving face and “letting Shaquille O’Neal kick the bucket,” “I agree, you can stuff me into your cannon and blast away that Big Fatty.”

Good, good, good, Anfernee truly deserves to be the starter for the “Death-to-the-Big-Fatty Squad.”

If you’re wondering who else is on this team, of course, I can tell you that besides Anfernee, there are Yu Fei, Kobe, Rodman, and David Robinson, with Bill Walton as a substitute, and Stan Van Gundy as the head coach.

Next was the segment where the star players greeted each other.

The first thing Yu Fei said to Wade was, “How does it feel to make that pig cower and act submissive?”

Over two years, Wade had heard about fifty-eight thousand variations of that question; his brain instinctively responded, “Miami isn’t anyone’s team; we don’t have a boss.”

“You say that with quite the boss’s demeanor,” Fei said approvingly. “No wonder Mr. Fatty is willing to be your dog.”

This content is taken from freeweɓnovel.cѳm.

Wade didn’t want to discuss pigs and dogs with Fei, as it was too easy to get twisted up in that conversation.

After exchanging greetings, he backed away.

He wasn’t an unambitious man. Claiming the Miami Heat lacked a boss was for the sake of team stability, but in truth, he knew, and Shaquille O’Neal knew, if the team had to choose one of them, the Heat would trade Shaquille O’Neal a hundred times faster than the Lakers did.

If anyone doubted who the boss of the team was, they could simply ask, “Who’s the least likely to be traded?” Once you have the answer, that person is the boss of the team.

Of course, this isn’t foolproof. For instance, the Heat of ’10-’14 or the Golden State Warriors of ’17-’19 wouldn’t provide an answer. The real boss’s thunder had been stolen by a newcomer, and even if you knew who the boss was, you wouldn’t want to trade away that powerful outsider.

Wade was aware of his status; he differed from other rookies of his era in that he had the mindset of a potential superstar, much more mature than his contemporaries. When he first arrived in Miami, he had tried to dunk over Shaquille O’Neal in a scrimmage, only to be flipped over and warned never to do that again.

Indeed, he hadn’t tried again, because there were other ways to earn your place on the team than dunking on a dominant teammate.

This season, the signs of Shaquille O’Neal’s aging were unmistakable. If not for heeding Riley’s advice and dropping his weight to 322 pounds (146KG) mid-season, Wade suspected he might have regressed to an ordinary All-Star center, with no chance of shining like he did with his 30+20 against the Bulls in the first round.

Arriving in the backcourt, Shaquille O’Neal asked Wade, “That asshole didn’t speak kindly, did he?”

Wade, with a smile, replied, “You know what he would say.”

“I know,” Shaquille O’Neal could even picture it, “Nothing but crap comes out of that dog’s mouth!”

A few minutes later, as the DJ loudly introduced the starting lineups under dimmed lights, the game officially began.

Though Shaquille O’Neal wasn’t what he used to be, the Bucks’ coaching staff still paid ample respect; Danny Granger was temporarily pulled from starting, and the starting frontcourt were Kwame Brown and Zaza Pachulia.

Brown, who had played as a small-ball center for a season, finally got to his preferred power forward spot, while Pachulia, a hidden treasure among the Bucks’ centers, seized his chance to shine that night.

Karl gave him one task: “If the game ends and Shaq hasn’t lost his temper with you, then it’s not his problem, it’s yours.”

Pachulia wanted to be a good guy, but he understood clearly that he could only keep playing in the NBA by being the bad guy.

At the start, Shaquille O’Neal, out of spite for Fei, committed a jump ball violation—Fei never imagined you could violate a jump ball—awarding possession to the Bucks.

“How can someone not even understand how to jump ball properly?” Fei mocked.

Shaquille O’Neal, however, remained silent and jogged away.

As usual, the Heat sent James Posey to guard Fei.

But since Fei mostly played point guard, Posey had to take on the responsibility with his forward’s body.

As usual, Fei first fed the ball to the inside.

He called for Pachulia to set a pick and roll.

Pachulia was the type of big man who had everything but wasn’t exceptional at anything. The pick was solid, but his roll wasn’t as smooth as Brown’s.

Luckily, Fei’s lobbing skills were exceptional, and Pachulia, receiving the ball slightly behind, could directly threaten the basket but was fouled by the Heat.

About to take his free throws, Pachulia heard Fei ask him, “Zaza, when did Kwame become the second-best center in the Eastern Conference?”

Pachulia responded, “By the end of the first round.”

“Then after the Eastern Conference Finals, you’ll be the number one center in the East.”

Brown, hearing this, thought he too wanted to be the top center in the East, but then thought about facing a fuming, fully enraged Shaquille O’Neal.

Um… it seemed he’d have to settle for being the top power forward in the East instead.

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