Champion Rules

Chapter 170, Section 166: Stephon Marbury's Decision (Seeking monthly votes!)
Reebok's publicity machine went into overdrive after the game, with such a massive promotional campaign that it was as if Lynch had won his third championship.

When is LeBron James at his most influential?
The answer is when he lost to Lynch.

Whenever he loses to Lynch, Reebok Media treats LBJ like the best player in the league.

This crushing defeat left Nike's media with no excuses; the bloody 52-point massacre completely shattered all of Nike's public relations narrative defenses.

Elton Brand did his best to score 30+10, Brian Scott didn't criticize LBJ, and Tayshaun Prince worked diligently. The only reason the Cavaliers lost was because James was too bad.

He couldn't beat Lynch one-on-one, and his defense was completely overwhelmed by Lynch.

His only notable statistic is assists, and when LBJ, who didn't attend the press conference, was caught by reporters in the parking lot, he used this as an excuse to defend himself:
“I’ve been playing point guard for the Cavaliers since last season. My goal isn’t to go toe-to-toe with opposing stars like in a bullfight, but to make sure everyone gets the opportunities they deserve. Basketball isn’t one-on-one; the wise choice is to build an advantageous offense through tactics. It’s just a pity that we didn’t play well tonight.”

When the Cavaliers lose, you realize that LBJ is truly a very team player.

Lynch didn't even bother to respond to James's excuses. Aside from being brave when facing referees, have you ever seen him bravely face anything?

But Lakers point guard Jason Kidd didn't let LeBron James off the hook, his scathing remarks making LeBron James' excuses seem ridiculous:

"LeBron is like I was imitating myself in the FIBA ​​Americas, only with more mistakes. You see, it's not that easy to lead a team to victory without scoring. You still have a lot to learn, LeBron."

Jason Kidd is a vindictive guy, and he hasn't forgotten LBJ's taunts at the America's Cup—although James thought it was just a joke, Kidd didn't see it that way.

Nowadays, boomerangs arrive so quickly.

LBJ, who mocked Kidd for not scoring unless he took a shot, completely imitated Jason Kidd in the last game.

This makes any public relations rhetoric about "game control" from Nike media seem absurd and laughable.

This is a major defeat that cannot be redeemed.

On the second day at the Greenburg training center, most of the players were reading newspapers.

DeShawn Stevenson shook the newspaper and exclaimed, "We have to respect LeBron," deliberately emphasizing the word "respect." "Who else in this league would be our comedian every week?"

The sound of the door opening cut off the laughter in the locker room. Lin Qi walked in wearing noise-canceling headphones.

He was serious and expressionless.

For someone who had just beaten his arch-rival by 52 points last night, Lynch's mood could even be described as low.

DeShawn Stevenson put down his newspaper and leaned closer to Lynch: "What's wrong, Lynch? It's really hard to win by 60 points without my help, so don't blame yourself. And to be honest, you did a great job."

“I’m just sad for LeBron, and sad for Nike. You all know that Nike had the opportunity to sign me back then. But they gave me up for LBJ. Now, Nike executives can only defend themselves by looking at MJ’s picture and reminiscing about the prosperity of the last century. What a tragic story, and you bunch of heartless bastards can still laugh.”

Lynch's answer made the laughter in the locker room even louder, but Lynch himself didn't laugh when he said it.

Stephon Marbury looked at the God who had saved his career. He knew him. He knew that Lynch's joke was just to keep everyone entertained and to prevent his emotions from affecting the locker room.

But in reality, Lin Qi wasn't very interested.

For Lynch now, beating LeBron James is no longer an honor, nor is it something to brag about.

It's as if, for him, sleeping with a Hollywood actress is nothing to brag about; it's just part of everyday life.

Last night was just a regular season game. Although we were triumphant, it was still just a regular season game.

That game cannot fundamentally change the Knicks' current predicament.

Lynch is eager for a three-peat, but the team's recent form makes the situation difficult.

So, of course he couldn't be happy.

The burden on him was too heavy, far too heavy to be relieved by defeating LBJ.

Stephon Marbury tightened his shoelaces, knowing full well that his high salary was the shackles binding his dynasty. But it wasn't selfishness; four years ago, when he signed the contract, no one could have foreseen how the wheels of fate would turn, and no one could predict the future.

Marbury also wanted to build a dynasty with Lynch and bring their story to a perfect close.

He cannot fully realize the value of 1900 million, nor can he terminate the contract; he can only contribute as much as possible.

Since fate has given him the script for redemption, then every scramble for the loose ball will be a prayer offered to God, and every surgical bounce pass will be a crucial element in rebuilding a dynasty. He is determined to see Lynch stand amidst a shower of confetti, becoming the man who establishes that dynasty.

So in November, Stephon Marbury put on a truly admirable performance.

He averages 13.6 points and 6.7 assists per game, and his three-point shooting percentage has improved compared to the preseason, reaching the passing mark of 34.6%.

His ability to control turnovers reached the best level of his career. In the game against the Miami Heat at the end of November, Stephon Marbury even had a brief resurgence, scoring 33 points and hitting 6 three-pointers.

Marbury could clearly see that Lynch's smile was becoming more frequent. This golden duo, just like in the past few seasons, steadily relied on each other to move forward.

After the game against the Heat, Stephon Marbury asked Flip Saunders for leave so he could attend a funeral.

His first basketball coach, Robert Williams, passed away last night, and he wanted to see his old coach one last time.

This is the second time in half a month that Stephon Marbury has attended a funeral.

His aunt had just passed away a week ago.

Lynch told him that if he needed more time, he should get some rest.

But Stephon Marbury returned to training the day after the funeral and has not missed a single game this season.

On the team bus after the game against the Heat, Lynch deliberately sat next to Marbury, whose eyes were bloodshot.

“Man, you can take a break,” Lynch patted Marbury on the shoulder. “I know this has been a very tough time for you.”

“No Lynch,” Marbury waved his hand. “There’s no need for that. I can play.”

The annual salary of 1900 million was both a gift and a source of guilt for him.

He didn't want to miss any games, and he didn't want to be mediocre within the team.

For most of this season, he wasn't the second-best player on the team, and he can no longer be considered Lynch's right-hand man.

But he hopes that he won't be the one who holds everyone back.

Lynch didn't try to persuade him any further, but simply told him, "Call me anytime you need me."

“I know, brother.” The Son of New York pounded his chest.

The neon lights of Miami streamed through the car window, outlining the fine lines around his eyes. This once-lost genius point guard is now writing a chapter of redemption with the simplest of perseverance.

The Knicks finished November with a 9-6 record, which, while not high in the standings, still makes them a competitive team.

In their first game of December, the defending champions will face the Phoenix Suns.

The Suns also had a tough season, as the Lakers' Big Three's huge success greatly spurred Suns owner Robert Salvo on.

Since the start of the season, all he's been thinking about is how to build a Big Three lineup.

As a result, everyone on the Suns team except Nash and Stoudemire was caught up in trade rumors.

The most absurd thing is that there are rumors that the Suns hope to acquire Shaquille O'Neal, ostensibly to counter Tim Duncan.

For team owners seeking quick success, the dazzling aura of a multi-star lineup is always an irresistible temptation.

However, this short-sighted thinking often leads to tactical adaptability being disregarded.

Even a casual fan knows that Shaq's playing style is completely incompatible with the Suns' fluid run-and-gun system.

If the trade actually happens, the Suns' strength may actually decrease rather than increase.

At this moment, the entire Suns team desperately wished Robert Salvo was the kind of playboy obsessed with car models. With so many beautiful car models in the world offering him their arms, why was he specifically interested in running a team?
Regardless of whether the trade ultimately happens, the Suns' locker room atmosphere has already become terrible due to the owner's behavior. Shawn Marion desperately wanted to prove he was untouchable, so he played more selfishly and took more shots.

This angered Amar'e Stoudemire, who believed that Shawn Marion was eyeing his position as the team's vice-leader.

Shawn Marion was puzzled by Amar'e Stoudemire's anger, wondering who the hell would compete for second place?

Therefore, when Lynch met Steve Nash at Madison Square Garden, he also looked exhausted.

As one of Lynch's most respected opponents, the King of New York took the initiative to exchange a few pleasantries with him before the fight: "How are you feeling, Steve? How's your back today?"

Nash gave a wry smile: "When will things ever get better?"

“Don’t say that, he’s still better than Robert Salvo in the head,” Lynch joked.

Even the usually refined Canadians became vulgar upon hearing their boss's name: "Brain? That bastard's neck is clearly covered by an ass."

Steve Nash is very dissatisfied with the current situation, but as a dedicated player, he will still strive to win every game.

As a top-tier point guard who could significantly raise the team's floor, Nash ensured that the Suns maintained a decent level of competitiveness even on the verge of collapse.

As a result, the game was quite intense, with the Knicks and Suns trading leads back and forth.

Don Marbury was on the sidelines cheering for his son as always. Although the media said that Marbury's poison pill contract was affecting the Knicks, these comments could not penetrate the armor he had built with pride.

All he knew was that his son was working hard for the family.

His son always gives his all on the field.

His son's $1900 million annual salary was not stolen.

When Stephon Marbury used a serpentine crossover to shake off Steve Nash and hit a floater, Marbury's hoarse cheers mingled with the roar of 20,000 cheering men.

It was an ordinary night, with a few guys struggling with their fates playing an ordinary game.

But fate always takes unexpected turns.

Late in the second quarter, Trevor Ariza, who was resting on the bench, suddenly patted Stephon Marbury on the thigh: "Stephen, what's going on over there?"

Marbury looked in the direction Ariza was pointing. The fluorescent vests of the paramedics flickered in and out of the stands, like warning lights swaying on a stormy night's shipping lanes. The reflection of the stretcher's metal frame was so blinding that an ominous feeling welled up inside him.

Marbury chewed his gum mechanically, the minty coolness unable to suppress the suffocating feeling. The group of people were positioned exactly where his father's season ticket seat was.

The crowd blocked Marbury's view, and he didn't know who was being carried away.

But a voice inside him told him, "That's impossible."

He has lost two family members in the past two weeks.

That misfortune will never happen to me again; God wouldn't be so cruel.

A few minutes later, a staff member from Madison Square Garden rushed toward the Knicks' bench.

Stephon Marbury looked at the guy, his sense of foreboding growing stronger.

The young man with the walkie-talkie, like a quail startled by a shotgun, darted past him and headed straight for the head coach, but cast a complicated glance at him as they passed each other. That glance reminded Marbury of the evasive looks from his neighbors when he was eight years old and the community doctor announced his grandmother's critical condition.

He crouched down next to Philip Sanders and whispered a few words in his ear. Philip Sanders' eyes widened in disbelief, and he quickly stood up: "Stephen!"

His shout made Marbury's body tremble.

"Tang fainted in row 3 of section C. The medical team performed CPR on him and put him in an ambulance. Go change your clothes and go to the hospital with him! I'll also send someone to go with you!"

A few minutes later, when Lynch walked off the court, he realized that Marbury had already left the game.

Upon learning that his father had collapsed in the stands, Lin Qi immediately made a phone call after returning to the locker room.

The call was quickly connected, but only the sound of crying could be heard from the receiver.

A minute later, Lynch announced some somber news in the locker room.

"Gentlemen," the usually forceful New York tyrant's voice was hoarse, a tone that froze Eddie Jones's gesture of making the sign of the cross in mid-air. "Stephen's father died on the way to the hospital."
-
Stephon Marbury wept in his room, feeling suffocated by the darkness around him.

The third heart-wrenching pain in three weeks swept over me, and the moonlight outside the window twisted into a hideous silver snake in my tears.

The white roses at his aunt's funeral had not yet withered, and the fresh soil in front of his mentor's grave was still damp. At this moment, the photo his father had treasured in his suit pocket burned his palm like a branding iron.

This would be a devastating blow to anyone.

The last time he felt so depressed was in 2004.

At that time, he was at the lowest point of his career, overwhelmed by the pressure from the New York media, and almost gave up basketball.

Lynch saved him, changed his career, and turned him from someone hated by all of New York into a New York hero with two rings of honor on his hands.

Mabel Marbury knocked on the door and entered the room, looking as if she had aged ten years overnight since losing her husband.

The loss of her husband had already tormented her to the point of exhaustion, so she didn't want to see her son fall into the same trap.

"Stephen, at least have some hot soup."

Her hoarse voice startled the time in the photograph, and Marbury looked away from the photo in his hand and nodded.

"I will, Mom."

“Lin Qi called me. He’ll be coming to see you in the next few days. He said you can rest for as long as you want.”

"Yes, but I plan to go back to the team tomorrow."

"what?"

“I can’t always wait for Lynch to save me. Dad definitely doesn’t want me to be a coward.”

Marbury stared at the photo in his hand, a still from last season's Knicks championship victory, showing him and Lynch embracing the trophy in the locker room—this was the last keepsake in Don Marbury's suit pocket, and he carried this photo with him every day.

On the back of the photo, a sentence was written in pen: Thank God, thank Lynch.

The ink stains, now blurred into tear-like shapes, resemble a covenant branded onto parchment by fate.
Don Marbury and his son both know exactly who changed their destiny.

Therefore, he wanted to rejoin the team immediately.

He knew that his father must also want him to do everything in his power to help the King of New York.

Their family has always been one to repay kindness.

If the crown of glory is destined to be forged with blood and sweat, he is willing to be the most silent stepping stone on Lynch's path to the throne.

Of course, Stephon Marbury had another idea in mind.

If he ultimately fails to help the Knicks achieve a three-peat, and cannot help Lynch through his playing style.

He will help him in another way.

He has made his decision.

In any case, he was determined to pave the way to the dynasty for his savior.

(Thanks to the generous donors such as He Feng, Book Friend 20220426202814100, etc.)

(End of this chapter)