basketball never sleeps

Chapter 324 The Worst Class

"They played pretty well."

At the away hotel, Mo Wen, who had just finished working out, saw his teammates sitting around the TV in the living room watching the Magic vs. Cavaliers game, and watched along for a while.

The Magic, who rebuilt in the summer, have performed quite well since the start of the new season. Today, they clearly dominated the Cavaliers almost the entire time, both offensively and defensively.

"That's pretty good. I think they grabbed ten rebounds in just one quarter. When the camera panned over just now, I felt like LeBron's eyes were like he wanted to kill someone," Ray Allen laughed from the side.

Just then, the camera panned across A-Zhan, and Mo Wen saw him too. To be fair, A-Zhan's face was quite dark, like a dark-skinned PE student being outshone by a skinny nerd.

"Hahaha, who told him to focus on fast breaks instead of defending the boards... I have to say, he's really fast on fast breaks. I saw him start running as soon as Chauncey missed a shot. Chauncey took three three-pointers in one possession, and he ran three times in total, hahaha." Gay, who had been watching LeBron James the whole time, offered another perspective.

“Others can laugh, but I remember you did this before, didn’t you?” Millsap whispered a reminder from the other side.

"Fuck, I forgot my teammate was you. If it were Darko, he definitely would have grabbed that rebound!"

Everyone was chatting and laughing, but Mo Wen and Ray Allen couldn't quite manage a smile when the game ended.

“I was worried about how we would handle Yao if he improved this year, but now it seems that the Magic’s interior defense is what we should be most worried about. They have two big men, one a second overall pick and the other a first overall pick. The talent of Darko and Howard is too unfair.” Ray Allen said to Mo Wen after his teammates left in twos and threes.

"Those two are indeed difficult to deal with, but there's no need to worry too much. Tyson is also the second overall pick, and Paul can also be used if he develops further. Not to mention, we also have the two of us. The Magic only have Chauncey on the perimeter, and the others are not good enough."

Mo Wen merely frowned slightly. He did not underestimate the Magic. After all, Dwight Howard alone could withstand an average of 5 fouls per game and outperform young LeBron James. Now, they have another player, Darko Milicic, who is developing normally.

Given their athleticism, their defensive effectiveness will certainly be greater than that of the Grizzlies' "Grind and Bears" duo, who will make a name for themselves with the Grizzlies in the future.

However, the Magic's problems lie in their perimeter and wing positions. With two top-tier centers plus Billups, the Magic's salary cap is practically locked up, making it difficult for them to solve the problem through acquisitions.

Supersonic excels in this area, so Mo Wen only considers the current Magic as an opponent that needs to be taken seriously.

As for tomorrow's game against the Magic, Mo Wen is even less worried.

If there really is a devilish schedule in the world, it would be playing the runner-up one day and the champion the next.

A while later, something even more reassuring happened to Mo Wen: Milicich actually called the front lines... and called his cell phone.

The next day, despite having a back-to-back game, Milicich still thought of inviting him out for drinks!

"You little brat, you really have no sense of propriety. You've called me out now to give up on tomorrow's game?"

Looking at the bright lights and lively music and dancing in front of him, Mo Wen couldn't help but punch Milic.

"You're a leader now, and this is how you lead your team?"

"Can you smell it, Moge?" Milicic didn't answer, but instead pulled his attention away from the abyss of a mixed-race woman.

"What do you smell?"

"Freedom is the taste of freedom!"

Milic grinned, took two glasses of ice wine from the bartender, handed one to Mo Wen, and then, without waiting for Mo Wen to drink it or not, clinked glasses and gulped it down.

He drank it down in one gulp, and after finishing, he let out a satisfied groan.

Mo Wen took the glass and sniffed it. The aroma of tequila mixed with sweet orange wafted up. Hmm, it's real alcohol.

"Are you aware of your current state, Dark?"

Mo Wen was somewhat angry. Whether it was because he was a good older brother or because he was Milicic's opponent tomorrow, he didn't want to see Milicic in this state.

But just as he was about to say something, he realized that he shouldn't impose his personal will on Milicic.

So he simply asked in a cold tone.

"Oh, is my hairstyle messed up? It doesn't matter, I still look handsome even when it's messed up!" Milicic scratched his hair, and only spoke seriously after seeing Mo Wen roll his eyes:

"I know it's not right for me to be so indulgent, but, Kam Angmo, I beat the Cavaliers today, and I beat last season's Eastern Conference champions! It's okay to enjoy myself a little once in a while, right?"

"Occasionally?"

Mo Wen glanced at Milicic and, considering that he was going to compete with him tomorrow and that Milicic had dared to drag him out for drinks today, he didn't believe that Milicic didn't usually have a lot of fun.

"Of course! It's only because you came today that I'm already in bed sleeping."

Milic spoke very sincerely, but he instinctively handed the glass back to the bartender.

"Are you lying in bed or passed out in bed? Do you think I haven't read the newspaper, or that I haven't talked to Changxi in private?"

He knew that Milicic loved to party back in Seattle, and he thought that Milicic would change after becoming the leader and taking on more responsibility. However, he didn't expect Milicic to become a college student and become even more unrestrained without anyone to supervise him.

“I know I shouldn’t be like this. I should be like the leaders in those stories, leading by example, being disciplined off the court, and giving my all on the court. I’ve tried to do that, but I just can’t, Mo Ge. I don’t know why, I just can’t do it.”

"I became a key player on the team, put up star stats, made it to the finals, won the championship, got a huge contract that would allow my whole family to live a life of luxury, got several luxury cars, bought a multi-million dollar mansion, had my own team, and could just wave my hand on the streets of Orlando and attract a bunch of women who wanted to sleep with me..."

I know I have so many goals, so many things to do, but damn it, my car's always parked in nightclubs, and I always wake up in those bitches' beds. I'm a fucking bastard, but I fucking enjoy being a bastard! It's fucking awesome!

Taking the refill, Milicic downed it again in one gulp, his half-open eyes reflecting the colorful disco ball.

Mo Wen didn't know what to say. Thanks to luck, Mo Wen has joined championship contenders throughout his career. He has heard many stories about falling from grace, but he has never seen one around him. There was Larry Brown in the Pistons, Riley in the Heat, and the SuperSonics were under the scrutiny of the whole city last year because of the "bet of the century".

He has played nearly 10,000 matches in dungeons, but those are just dungeons after all. Teammates in dungeons also experience joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness, but those only exist in the matches.

Moreover, does he really have the right to say anything?

The Schwarzenegger sisters, Katherine and her mentor, and the female neighbors in New York.

His own practice of self-discipline seems more like a fear of being under the watchful eyes of hundreds of millions of people in China.

Of course, he could use those grand principles to lecture Milicic, and frankly, that felt pretty good, but the problem was that Milicic knew everything.

Such a conscious act of depravity sent chills down the spine of even Mo Wen, a mere bystander.

Depressed in youth – successful in adolescence – suddenly rich – arrogant and decadent.

Everything seemed like destiny, unfolding logically and unavoidably.

If he doesn't have copy space...

So he's most likely playing in the CBA?

Fear evaporated instantly. He never worried about losing what he possessed; there was no need for that, it was just internal strife.

He then began to examine the motivation that kept him striving until now.

Mo Wen relaxed as if he had just realized something.

"Do you still remember the goal we came out of, Dark?"

"To become the team's leader." "I remember it wasn't just that, was it?"

"Become the leader of the team, and then prove yourself in a new role."

Milic's voice was a little hoarse. Of course he remembered the second half of what he said, but there was nothing he could do. It was the same old story: squandering youth, the feeling of squandering money in youth, was just too good.

Seeing his expression, Mo Wen knew that talking was pointless.

"By the way, with you playing like this, isn't Dwight Howard thinking of competing with you for the top spot?"

Upon hearing this, Milicich rubbed his head in frustration. Mo Wen thought he had finally found Milicich's weakness, but Milicich pointed to the ceiling instead.

"Dwight, on the third floor, called three girls. I saw it with my own eyes."

Mo Wen: ...

……

The following night.

Amway Arena sold out for the first time this season, a venue that couldn't even sell out tickets for the game against LeBron James.

Orlando fans are also very interested in the showdown between the new star and his former team.

Although Milicic and the SuperSonics parted ways amicably, the media, always eager to stir up trouble, still managed to "speculate" the "truth" behind Milicic's departure based on various clues.

The SuperSonics didn't want to offer Milicic a big contract that would give him the opportunity to threaten Mo Wen's core position, so Milicic left in anger and came to Orlando.

Does the plot sound familiar? It's actually based on the story of Shaq leaving Magic.

It's ridiculous, but Magic fans love watching it.

During the warm-up phase, Mo Wen ran into an old acquaintance, Stan Van Gundy, also known as Big Van.

With two championships under his belt, Van Gundy was even more sought after than in the original timeline when he left the Heat, but he still set his sights on the Magic.

The combination of two superstar big men and a Finals MVP point guard is just too good to pass up. In fact, Van Gundy thinks the Magic are even stronger than the Celtics in terms of their Big Three.

Those three are famous, but their actual roles overlap, and they are also at an age where they are beginning to decline.

Unlike magic, where two top-tier introverts can simply be placed there and tactics can be arranged at will.

Even if you miss the shot, you still have offensive rebounds, and offensive rebounds give you more room for error.

When they met again, Mo Wenda, who was very adept at social skills, took the initiative to befriend him.

"Our players exhausted themselves last night, so please go easy on me today and give me some face."

"Didn't you win Coach of the Month last month? Why are you so humble?" Mo Wen teased, patting Da Fan's belly.

The Magic won only one less game than the Cavaliers last month and went on two five-game winning streaks. Many experts believe that the Magic's success is largely due to their summer acquisitions. However, their record is undeniable. The Magic's defense did improve significantly last season. Moreover, the excuse of "acquisitions" was used before when Van Gundy was with the Heat, so using it again now feels a bit strange. Therefore, the Coach of the Month award was given to him.

"Hey, it's all luck, don't you know me?" Van Bass didn't dare to take credit. He knew himself very well. Of course he was capable, but last month's Coach of the Month award was more about his ability to select teams.

Before the game started, the director kept switching the camera between the SuperSonics players and Milicic.

The cameraman's expression was so serious, as if he were filming a movie.

To the disappointment of onlookers, the two sides didn't really spark any conflict. Milicic greeted his old teammates very familiarly, his expression more sincere than that of a casual buddy.

The only one who was a little cold was Mo Wen, because the two of them had met up the night before, and any more enthusiastic greetings would just be an act.

Such a reaction is enough for the media to speculate, hmm~ (long syllable), the two of them are definitely up to something.

However, if we're talking about real conflicts, then it has to be the interaction between Billups and Mo Wen.

The two exchanged trash talk and laughed before the match, and even elbowed each other when they took their positions at the start, but not many people paid any attention.

What are you talking about, these old, trivial matters? It's so boring. If you're so capable, then go ahead and make a bloodbath.

Billups, who was trying to steal the spotlight, was exhausted. Although they were all nominally top-five point guards in the league, Mo Wen had unknowingly distanced himself from the others, and now he couldn't even get a bit of attention.

"So what if they're good at padding stats?" Billups glanced at the black and white duo behind him. He was going to have a blast shooting today!

Howard: What about me? Look at me!

From the start of the game, the Magic demonstrated their hospitality to the fullest.

Mo Wen had thought that magic would be like a game character, quickly depleting the stamina bar that had just recovered a little before switching from sprinting to walking.

But they came up on foot today.

The title of being number one in the Supersonic League serves as a deterrent at other times and also arouses men's desire to conquer and challenge. But the magician who just emptied the magazine only inspires awe.

They can still execute Van Gundy's requirements very seriously on the defensive end, but on the offensive end, only Billups and Howard still have a strong offensive desire.

Billups, however, was never a highly efficient scorer throughout his career, while Dwight Howard, whether efficient or just a joke, is another question.

With four minutes left in the first quarter, Millsap switched onto Howard and, feeling he had found an easy target, started demanding the ball. Billups had no choice but to lob the ball over to him.

Then Warcraft began his performance.

When Ewing saw Howard receive the ball, he immediately stood at attention. This summer, he joined the Magic team based on his brilliant resume of coaching Yao Ming—although Thibodeau did the work, he was the one who took on the task.

Milicic, a championship-winning center who could score 40 points in the Finals, didn't need his coaching, so he focused all his energy on Howard.

He felt that he couldn't help Yao Ming much mainly because Yao Ming and his talent model didn't match; how could someone who barely jumps learn his bunny hop?

Warcraft is different; this kid can really jump.

Although the feel is a bit off... a lot off, as long as you don't go too far from the basket, you don't need that much feel.

Catching the ball, backing up and sticking your butt out, oh yeah, lean in and turn around, that short inside guy can't stop you at all, dribble the ball and fake it out, if that doesn't work, take a step to the side and throw it towards the basket... Fuck!
Howard, who was strictly following the standard procedure, had to stop because when he faked the ball, he wasn't holding the ball up, but rather sending it to Millsap's face.

Millsap was a little dazed when he saw the ball dart in front of him for the first time, but when the ball appeared in front of him for the second time, he decisively pulled back his outstretched arms and hugged the ball.

From a bystander's perspective, Howard simply passed the ball directly to Millsap.

What does "friendship first, competition second" even mean?
Realizing he had made a fool of himself, the monster launched another aggression attack in the next round.

Warcraft, who got a direct chance to charge into the basket, wanted to show off his talent. However, Warcraft, who was attacking from the side, misjudged the distance. Perhaps he had taken off too many times on those three girls last night. He steadily split Mount Hua halfway down the mountain.

The rim, which gets slammed into every day, finally got a chance to launch. The basketball flew over half the court, and Dwight Howard got the same lying position as the Golden State Slam Dunk King.

On the sidelines, Ewing couldn't help but sit down and cover his face; this was truly the worst class he had ever coached.

(End of this chapter)