"We lacked a bit of luck. We missed some key shots."

"Dirk’s performance couldn’t have been better. He was great, gave his all for the team. Like I said, we were just a little short on luck."

At the post-game press conference, facing the reporters, Old Nelson rubbed his cheeks, distractedly spouting clichés.

’Should I bring up what happened at halftime?’ he wondered.

’The Suns were practically cheating!’

If he had known Chen Yu was capable of that, he never would have planned to speed up the pace before the game.

But Old Nelson was torn. If he said something, people might not believe him.

Besides, Chen Yu was a special case. On top of being the Suns’ team doctor, he was also affiliated with the league. Whether an injured player could return to play required Chen Yu’s review and approval.

And in the future, when his own players got injured, he would inevitably have to ask for Chen Yu’s help.

’If I complain about Chen Yu now, will he hold a grudge against me?’

Old Nelson was conflicted and couldn’t make up his mind.

Just as he was thinking, a reporter asked for his opinion on Ewing’s flagrant foul against Nowitzki.

Old Nelson snapped back to reality. His eyes darted, and he said without hesitation, "He did it on purpose. It was a malicious and intolerable foul. Dirk’s nose is still swollen, and we don’t know if the bone is broken. After the game, he told me his nose was so sore it made his eyes water constantly, and he couldn’t even see the basket clearly."

Facing the reporters, Old Nelson launched into a long complaint, clamoring for the league to issue an additional penalty.

He was just taking a shot in the dark, not expecting anything to come of it, but to his surprise, the league’s additional penalty really did come the next day.

"A one-game suspension? Is it that serious?"

The next day at practice, when Brian came over and told them the news, Chen Yu was also taken aback.

"Is Dirk’s injury that bad?" Nelson asked from the side.

If Nowitzki’s injury was severe, it might have led the league to hand down a harsh punishment.

"Impossible," Chen Yu said, shaking his head.

After the game yesterday, Chen Yu had specifically gone to the Mavericks’ locker room to check on Nowitzki.

His nose was just bloodied. There was nothing seriously wrong with it.

Brian sighed. "It’s probably because there was blood. That’s why the league gave such a penalty."

David Stern has been working hard to cultivate a positive image for the NBA. On a national broadcast, Ewing’s elbow bloodied Nowitzki’s nose, and blood was all over his face. Millions of viewers saw it. The impact was just too negative.

"Can we appeal?" Skiles asked.

Brian shook his head. The penalty had already been officially announced. How could it be changed?

"Thankfully, it’s only a one-game suspension. If it were two, it’d be even more trouble," Brian sighed.

A one-game suspension, and thankfully it was for a home game. It wasn’t the worst possible outcome.

"By the way." Brian looked at Chen Yu. "What’s Patrick thinking right now? Did you talk to him before practice today?"

He was asking about Patrick yelling at Hardaway.

The suspension was a problem, but team conflict was an even bigger one.

The others present also turned to look at Chen Yu.

Normally, when conflict arose between players, it should be Skiles, the head coach, who would talk to them and try to resolve it.

But the Suns had Chen Yu, and the players trusted him. So, many of these issues were handled by Chen Yu instead.

"No," Chen Yu said, shaking his head. He glanced over at the practice court, where Ewing was meticulously going through his recovery workout, and said with a smile, "Actually, he’s been wanting to talk to me, but I haven’t given him the chance. By the way, did you know? Last night in the parking lot, he even stopped our bus, hoping to have a word with me."

"It was the same this morning. I get the feeling he’s about to burst."

The men exchanged glances. They all knew Chen Yu understood psychology. This deliberate avoidance was definitely another one of his psychological ploys.

Jim Boylan asked curiously, "Chen, why don’t you talk to him, then?"

Chen Yu said, "Because yesterday wasn’t a good time, especially when he felt he hadn’t done anything wrong."

"Nothing wrong?" Nelson was stunned, a look of complete confusion on his face.

Chen Yu nodded. "Yes. I believe that yesterday, Patrick definitely didn’t think he was in the wrong. He wants the team to win. Anfernee had a bad game, so he yelled at him. He believed what he did was right, that it was to make Anfernee play better."

"If I went to criticize him at that moment, telling him he was wrong, it would have just made him feel wronged and become defiant, making communication even harder. So, it needs time, and it needs the right opportunity for him to figure it out on his own. His intentions weren’t wrong, but his methods were."

Getting a superstar as self-assured as Ewing to willingly reflect on his own mistakes is no easy task. The same is true for any ordinary person.

The men nodded thoughtfully, feeling like they were starting to understand.

Chen Yu continued, "Now that he’s been suspended, it’s actually a good opportunity. Let him sit on the sidelines and watch our next game. Whether we win or lose, I’ll know how to talk to him afterward."

If the team lost, he would reinforce Ewing’s self-blame, making him understand that the team’s interests come first.

If they won, he would tell him, ’See? Trusting your teammates is the right move.’

Everyone looked at Chen Yu, their expressions a mix of emotions.

"Chen, you’re terrifying," Brian said with a shudder.

Nelson nodded in profound agreement.

Skiles also said thoughtfully, "Chen, I feel like I really need to learn from you."

As the head coach, whenever a player had a problem in the past, he would just talk to them, directly telling them what the issue was and that they needed to fix it.

But thinking back now, he realized those conversations weren’t always effective. His methods were wrong.

"Let’s not get ahead of ourselves."

Chen Yu waved his hand humbly. He had only grasped the basics of psychology.

He knew it just by looking at the system. After all this time, his knowledge proficiency index for Sports Psychology had increased, but it had only reached 57 percent. He was still a long way from complete mastery.

"So who’s going to tell him?" Brian asked, looking at the group.

The others immediately looked at Chen Yu.

"Nope." Chen Yu shook his head and pointed at Brian. "You go. Don’t say much to him. Just inform him of the league’s penalty."

Brian rolled his eyes. ’No doubt about it, this is another one of those psychological ploys,’ he thought.

"Fine, I’ll go."

Chen Yu wasn’t planning to talk to Ewing just yet, but he was getting ready to have a chat with Hardaway.

After being yelled at by Ewing, Hardaway was surely feeling resentful.

They were teammates, and everyone was supposed to be united, striving for a championship.

But in reality, it was never that easy.

Take the Lakers. They beat the Wolves yesterday, but today the media was already reporting that Kobe had complained about not getting enough shots during the game, leading to speculation that he and O’Neal had gotten into another argument.

Even husbands and wives argue, let alone 15 people with completely different personalities.

Even if they played hard on the court out of professionalism, it would obviously be better if they could work together without any off-court conflict.

"He got suspended?" After practice, Hardaway was also surprised to hear the news about Ewing’s suspension.

Chen Yu nodded. "So you need to step up next game. Alright, let me see your wrist."

Chen Yu took Hardaway’s wrist.

"Looks fine." Chen Yu made a show of examining it for a moment, then got up to attend to the other players.

Hardaway’s brow furrowed. Now he understood why Brian had called Ewing away just now.

As he thought about it, Hardaway subconsciously clenched his fists.

He understood why Ewing had yelled at him, and he knew his own performance yesterday had been terrible.

Because of that, Ewing had played so impatiently, which led to the clash with Nowitzki and his ejection from the game.

And now, on top of that, he was suspended.

’If I had just made a few more shots yesterday, if we had built a bigger lead early on, none of this would have happened.’

On April 24th, Game 2 between the Suns and the Mavericks began.

「Mavericks Locker Room.」

"Height!"

At the pre-game strategy meeting, Old Nelson wrote a single word on the whiteboard and tapped it forcefully.

"The Suns will most likely start Teylon Hill in Ewing’s place. Hill is an excellent defender, but he has one fatal flaw: he’s undersized."

Teylon Hill is only six-foot-nine. If he’s matched up against Nowitzki, who has an incredibly high release point on his shot, he’ll find it almost impossible to bother him.

"Even if the Suns have Olajuwon switch onto Dirk, it’s not a big problem. Hill can’t guard the perimeter, so LaFrentz, you need to take more shots from outside."

As he spoke, a smile spread across Old Nelson’s face.

He had just been complaining for the sake of it, never expecting it to actually work. Ewing had actually been suspended for a game.

It was practically a gift from heaven.

Ewing might not score much, but his role on the Suns was crucial.

Skilled, experienced, and with enough size and height, Ewing did an excellent job protecting the Suns’ basket.

With him suspended, the Suns had no one left to use.

Hill was too short. Gugliotta was the same—lacked height and, on top of that, his defense was atrocious.

Charalidis had the height, but he was too young and too green.

As for Elton Ford... who was that?

Olajuwon and Ewing, those two seven-foot giants, were the pillars of the Suns’ frontcourt. Now, with one of them gone, half their sky had collapsed.

’What a pity it’s only a one-game suspension,’ he thought.

’If it had been two games, that would have been perfect.’

Things went just as Old Nelson had predicted. The undersized Teylon Hill found it almost impossible to bother Nowitzki.

Right from the start, Nowitzki hit consecutive shots over Teylon Hill.

The Mavericks were also intentionally running their offense through Nowitzki, constantly creating scoring opportunities for him.

Although Hill had recovered from his meniscus injury, his age was a factor. Lacking the same vertical leap, he could barely bother Nowitzki’s shot even with his arms fully extended.

Ewing, dressed in a suit, sat on the sidelines, scratching his head in frustration.

’If I were on the court, would Nowitzki dare to be so brazen?’ he fumed.

Skiles stood on the sideline, his eyebrows furrowed just as tightly.

Ewing’s absence wasn’t just a defensive loss; they were missing his scoring too.

No matter how old he was, he was still a former superstar with an excellent low-post scoring game and mid-range jumper.

Teylon Hill, on the other hand, really only had his defense.

But right now, Skiles couldn’t worry about the defensive problems. He was more concerned with scoring.

He glanced up at the score. A little over three minutes into the game, the Suns were down 2-8, already trailing by six points.

They couldn’t get a stop on defense, and their offense hadn’t gotten going. The Suns’ form at the start of the game was shockingly poor.

But just then, Hardaway had the ball on the perimeter. Facing Finley’s defense, he executed a step-back and decisively took a three-point shot.

It was Hardaway’s first shot of the game.

The ball rattled around the rim before falling through the net.

Hardaway frowned slightly, then turned and ran back on defense without a word.