Champion Creed-Chapter 917 - 302: Hey, lift your head (Requesting monthly tickets!) _4

After speaking, Roger walked into the player tunnel amidst the cheers of the fans.

Why did he want to encourage Stoudemire?

No reason, it’s perfectly normal for idols to encourage fans.

Seeing Roger leave, Stoudemire’s brother, Hazell Stoudemire, danced with excitement: "Hahaha, Amar’e, do you know how much this jersey is worth now? Damn, we won’t have to worry about money for a long time! If Laetitia and Marwan knew about this, they would be so happy! We didn’t come here for nothing today!"

As he spoke, Hazell reached out to grab the jersey.

The brothers had agreed long ago to quickly sell the signed jersey for money.

Yes, Hazell and Amar’e were both Roger’s fans, this was the absolute truth, they were not lying.

But in a family where their father died early, their mother was imprisoned, stepfather was indifferent, and only four siblings could rely on each other, the idol’s gift certainly couldn’t be wasted.

But at the moment Hazell went to grab the jersey, Amar’e Stoudemire withdrew his hand.

Hazell frowned: "What do you mean?"

Stoudemire avoided eye contact: "Nothing, I don’t want to sell it."

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

"I don’t want to sell it, that’s it."

"Don’t make me lay hands on you, Amar’e." The elder brother issued a final warning.

But this time, Stoudemire clutched the jersey tightly and shouted in defiance: "This is the last thing our father left us! I will play ball and work, and when I get into the NBA I will give you all a good life for the rest of your lives! But please Hazell, don’t sell this jersey!"

Seeing his brother so adamant, Hazell sighed and then squeezed out of the crowd, leaving the stands in displeasure.

Stoudemire understood his brother, he wouldn’t truly be angry because he genuinely loved everyone in this family.

Amar’e Stoudemire stood in place, raised the worn jersey, and showed a slight smile.

This jersey was the last thing his father left, but honestly, that’s not the main reason he wanted to keep it.

The real reason he wanted to keep the jersey is because as long as he sees it, he feels empowered.

Because after all these years, experiencing his father’s passing, his mother’s arrest, countless school changes, and long basketball struggles, only one person ever said to him: "Amar’e, keep your head up."

Half an hour later, the Stoudemire brothers walked out of the arena, ready to go to the cheapest hotel nearby.

On the plaza outside the arena, a reporter approached them: "Hey big guy, I’m a reporter from the ’Orlando Sentinel’, we’re conducting a poll, do you think Roger will return to Orlando next summer?"

Stoudemire and his brother looked at each other, Stoudemire glanced at the Roger jersey in his hand, and leaned toward the microphone: "I don’t think he will, this city once let him down."

This answer surprised the reporter: "Young man, what’s your name? Isn’t your biggest dream to see Roger wear the Magic Team jersey again?"

"I’m Amar’e Stoudemire, and my biggest dream is to fight in the NBA alongside Roger, you will know me one day early or late."

Watching his younger brother proudly and confidently tell the reporter this, Hazell smiled and shook his head.

He hadn’t seen his brother stand so straight for a long time, at this moment, he really seemed like a giant.

Oh well, if he wants to keep the jersey, let him keep it.

After all, spiritual wealth is also a form of wealth.