20demayo Chapter 88 Post-Match Turmoil
Chapter 88 Post-Match Turmoil
2009年3月12日，清晨7:30。
New York, Li Xiangbei's apartment.
On the television, ESPN's flagship debate program, "First Take," was in progress.
Host Stephen A. Smith was defending LeBron in his signature exaggerated tone: "Come on! LeBron made the best basketball decision! In a bad situation, he trusted his teammate and passed to the open Gibson. That's leadership! That's why he's the King!"
*Smack!*
The sound interrupted him.
Skip, sitting opposite him, the famous "LeBron hater" known for his sharp tongue and obsessiveness, slammed his fist on the table.
"Shut up, Stephen! Don't give me that 'reasonable basketball' nonsense! That's just an excuse!"
Skip pulled out two enlarged, high-resolution photos that he had prepared beforehand, and held them high as if displaying evidence of a crime.
The photo on the left shows the moment James made the pass in mid-air at the end of the game.
His gaze wasn't fixed on the basket, but rather on his teammate in the corner.
Skip pointed at James' eyes: "Look at those eyes! It's fear! It's avoidance!"
The photo on the right is from after the final whistle.
Li Xiangbei stood in the center of the Quicken Loans Arena's golden floor, surrounded by wildly celebrating Cavaliers players, but he stood with his hands on his hips, his back to the camera, watching the score on the big screen.
That figure, with its back turned, was lonely, stubborn, and full of disdain.
"In the final seconds of the game, facing a rookie's one-on-one defense, the 'King' you all idolize chose to pass! Why? Because he was scared! Because in the fourth quarter, Li Xiangbei's defense made him look like a bewildered high school student! He didn't dare to shoot in front of that man named Li Xiangbei!"
Skip stood up and excitedly faced the camera.
"Would Michael Jordan pass the ball? Would Kobe Bryant pass the ball? No! They would shove that damn ball down the opponent's throat! Even if there's a wall in front of them!"
"LeBron chose survival; he threw the bomb to his teammates. And Li Xiangbei? He carried the entire team on his shoulders for the entire game! He chose glory! Although he lost the score, he won the battle!"
The studio erupted in uproar.
Skip's comments, though extreme, were like a thorn, precisely piercing the question in everyone's heart: In that moment, should a superstar really pass the ball?
Skip took a deep breath and dropped the final bombshell:
"That's why, if I had an MVP vote, I'd vote for that New York madman, not this Cleveland deserter! Giving the trophy to a deserter? That's an insult to basketball, this tough sport!"
"Last night, Li Xiangbei cornered LeBron, forcing him to call for help from Gibson. Li Xiangbei was the true fighter that night!"
Public opinion was instantly torn apart.
The voices that were initially mocking Li Xiangbei for losing the game have begun to reverse.
Countless neutral fans began to reminisce about that game: Yes, Li Xiangbei really defended LeBron, and you could even say that he not only defended him, but almost single-handedly defeated the top team in the East.
……
Let's rewind to last night, to the away team's locker room after the match.
It's unusually quiet here.
The only sound was the rushing water from the shower, as Li Xiangbei washed away the sweat from his body.
Apart from that, everyone was looking down at the technical statistics sheets in their hands.
Li Xiangbei: 51 points.
The other starters (David Lee, Chandler, Duhon, Jeffries) combined for 38 points.
This is a silent humiliation.
Amid this awkward situation, veteran Al Harrington tried to ease the tension by untying his shoelaces.
"Hey guys, don't look so down." Harrington casually tossed his jersey into the laundry basket. "Gibson's last shot was pure luck; he can only make two out of ten open shots like that. We did our best, losing to the Cavaliers isn't shameful."
"Try your best?"
A sound suddenly rang out.
David Lee, who was usually mild-mannered, suddenly stood up.
"Luck? Effort? El, look the hell at this piece of paper!"
David Lee slammed the statistics sheet in his hand onto the locker, making a sharp "smack".
"Li scored 52 points! He shut down LeBron! He gave it his all! He didn't even have a sip of water in the fourth quarter! And what about us? We couldn't even stop Gibson, who can only shoot? And he made the game-winning shot?"
"Do we even deserve to say we've tried our best? I'm ashamed! I'm ashamed of myself!"
The locker room was quiet.
Wilson Chandler lowered his head.
The person who missed Gibson was him.
Just then, the shower door opened.
Li Xiangbei walked out, drying his hair.
He was still warm from his body, and he looked at his teammates, whose faces were flushed, without saying a word.
He quietly changed his clothes and put on the black Under Armour sweatshirt.
Then, he walked to the locker and picked up the statistics sheet that David Lee had slapped on the locker.
He didn't throw it away; instead, he carefully folded it and put it in his bag.
Li Xiangbei walked up to Wilson Chandler.
Chandler didn't dare to look up; he was afraid to see his boss's eyes.
But a hand gently patted his shoulder.
"Raise your head."
Li Xiangbei's voice was calm, without any blame.
"I was standing right next to you when Gibson made that shot. We lost, not you."
Chandler looked up, his eyes red-rimmed.
"Everyone, lift your heads." Li Xiangbei adjusted his backpack straps, his gaze sweeping across the entire arena. "It's not time to cry yet. Save this shame for later. When the playoffs come, I'll make you pay for this with interest."
Just then, the landline in the locker room rang.
Nate answered and pressed the speakerphone button.
Randolph's signature voice came from the other end of the phone:
"I saw it all! Damn it! David, you better get your muscles working out while I'm gone! When I get back, if those Cleveland bastards dare to act this arrogantly again, I'll break their bones!!"
This roar was like a shot of adrenaline, injecting a powerful dose of energy into the stifling locker room.
……
11:30am.
Li Xiangbei returned to his apartment in Manhattan.
He didn't turn on the lights, but simply sat on the carpet in front of the French windows, holding a bottle of beer, looking at the dazzling night view outside.
After a day of intense training, I'm a bit mentally exhausted.
"Ding-dong."
Doorbell rang.
Li Xiangbei assumed it was the property management company or a real estate agent.
The door opened.
Standing outside the door was none other than Scarlett Janssen.
She was wearing a low-key baseball cap with the brim pulled down low.
Without elaborate makeup, faint dark circles were even visible on her bare face.
She was wearing an oversized sweatshirt and carrying a regular convenience store plastic bag containing ice packs and a few cans of beer.
Clearly, she came straight here after finishing her scheduled work.
"Why are you here?" Li Xiangbei asked, somewhat surprised.
Scarlett didn't say anything, walked straight into the house, kicked off her high heels, threw herself heavily into the sofa, and let out a comfortable moan.
"I'm exhausted." Scarlett rubbed her temples. "That Iron Man guy is so hard to please. After filming action scenes all day, I had to be suspended by wires too."
She looked at Li Xiangbei, her eyes instantly softening from exhaustion.
"I saw the news, Skip raved about you," Scarlett said softly. "How do you feel now? A tragic hero who's 'honorable in defeat'? Do you feel like the whole world is pitying you?"
Li Xiangbei took a sip of beer and gave a wry smile.
"It felt like swallowing a fly. Although Skip was praising me, his clickbait attitude disgusted me."
Scarlett smiled.
She stood up and leaned on Li Xiangbei's shoulder from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder, and looked out the window at the Manhattan night view with him.
"I knew you'd say that."
Scarlett's voice was soft, yet clear.
"In Hollywood, everyone is learning how to lose gracefully, how to pretend to be magnanimous, and how to perform the perfect loser in front of the camera. Only you, like an unevolved wild beast, acted as if you had lost your life after losing a regular season game. Your resentment was so palpable that it practically overflowed the screen."
She reached out and gently traced her fingertips across Li Xiangbei's face.
"But that's what fascinates me about you. Don't change, Lee. Keep your anger. It makes you look like a villain, but it also makes you look...incredibly real."
"In this hypocritical world of fame and fortune, authenticity is more precious than anything else."
Li Xiangbei turned his head and looked at the face so close to his.
Even without makeup, she was still breathtakingly beautiful.
He held up the beer can in his hand.
Scarlett also took a can and opened it.
"bite."
The crisp sound of glasses clinking echoed in the quiet room.
There was no passionate lovemaking that night.
Only two lonely souls at the top of this world of fame and fortune find solace and comfort in each other at this moment.
……
The next morning.
When Li Xiangbei woke up, he found himself lying on the carpet with a thin blanket covering him.
Scarlett was already asleep on the sofa, curled up like a cat.
He didn't wake her, but gently covered her with the blanket.
Li Xiangbei walked onto the balcony.
The morning sun pierced through the thin mist over Manhattan.
After yesterday's "baptism of shame" and Scarlett's "soul recharge".
He clenched his fist and felt the power return to his body.
Just then, a system notification sounded in my mind.
[System detection: Team cohesion has changed.]
[Status Activated: "Shame Leads to Improvement"]
[Result: Team's overall training enthusiasm increased by 30%.]
[Duration: Until the next winning streak is broken.]
Li Xiangbei looked into the distance, a cold smile playing on his lips.
"Does feeling ashamed motivate one to strive harder?"
"very good."
"Then let's start today and win back what we've lost, game by game."