Champion Rules

Chapter 240, Section 236: The Alliance's Number One Queen (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)

The wave of celebration emanating from the Knicks players swept through every corner of the Rose Garden.

Brandon Roy stood with his hands on his hips on the floor of the Rose Garden, without kneeling.

In the only quiet island amidst the raging storm, Nate McMillan, like a frozen sculpture, sank alone into the depths of the cold bench.

Sharp regret, like an icicle, pierced his thoughts repeatedly.

He was thinking, if only he hadn't benched Nicolas Batum, the defensive stalwart who had repeatedly contributed on the defensive end that night, before the final buzzer, and hadn't left Martel Webster alone under that sword of judgment.
Will the story quietly turn to another chapter?
He miscalculated!

They miscalculated the courage beating in Philip Sanders' cold heart, and they miscalculated the cruel coincidence of fate.

In the end, Lynch's fangs, capable of burning everything, somehow managed to embed themselves into a crack in Martel Webster's relatively weak shield.

However, when his gaze pierced through the crowd and finally settled on the figure surrounded by the Knicks stars as if on a pilgrimage, as if standing on a sacred altar of light.

The turmoil in Nate McMillan's heart gradually subsided and froze.

Perhaps, none of the "ifs" are true at all.

Even if the French iron wall Nicolas Batum had stood in front of Lynch at that time, the trajectory of his eventual annihilation would probably still not have deviated by the slightest.

Let's see what that number 20 did in the end.
With that ultimate lever that cut through the giant Oden's fingers, he forcefully cleaved open the gates of hell that were about to close.

With his impenetrable, icy chains, he precisely gripped Brandon Roy's burning throat at the most fatal moment.

He reached out from the pile of corpses amidst the chaotic battle and single-handedly snatched the crucial backboard—a game-changer—from the fierce struggle between Oden and Chandler.

Then, in the final moments with little time remaining, he calmly made a half-turn feint, creating space for himself to score, and then unleashed that meteor that ended everything!

At first, Nate McMillan secretly rejoiced that Lynch didn't have a secret weapon like Dennis Rodman by his side to help him defy fate.

But as it turns out, Lynch didn't need any extra favor from fate.

There's no need to rely on teammates to deliver god-like performances.

It doesn't need to rely on the opponent making mistakes.

He won tonight entirely through his own strength and determination.

For example, on the last play, no matter who was guarding him, if Lynch had chosen to pass the ball, opting for a more reasonable or easier way to evade responsibility, perhaps everything would have been different.

Therefore, the key to victory or defeat never lies in which shield Nate McMillan ultimately pushes towards Lynch.

The very breath and heartbeat of this entire battlefield have always been controlled by only one person.

The key to everything is Lynch himself!

After taking a deep breath and swallowing the bitter defeat like a man, Nate McMillan straightened his spine, which had been bent by the weight, and walked to midfield to shake hands with Flip Saunders.

He patted Philip Sanders on the arm, his voice deep and sincere: "Respectable courage, Philip."

He was referring, of course, to Philip Sanders' courage in not calling a timeout in the final moments.

But Philip Sanders raised his chin toward Lynch: "There's nothing to praise. I had no courage to rely on; I simply chose to hand the helm to the storm itself. You played a beautiful game, but tonight, Lady Luck seems to favor the New York moonlight."

Upon hearing this, Nate McMillan gave a short, bitter laugh:
"Stop trying to comfort me, Phil. Put away the tricks of fate. Our defeat has nothing to do with luck. In this arena built of sweat and blood, her scales never decide life or death. You are strong, we are."

He took a deep breath and glanced once more at the noisy territory that belonged to Lynch: "See you next time, Phil."

Brandon Roy also hugged Lynch.

The guardian of the Rose Garden failed to hold onto his home turf tonight.

But he was still excited because he had pushed the formidable New York Knicks to the brink of defeat.

This further convinced him that the Portland Trail Blazers were not far from the championship.

He leaned closer, lowered his voice, but spoke with the sincerity of a warrior's comparison: "You beat Lynch. To be honest, beating you is much harder than beating Kobe."

Lin Qi's smile widened, and he deliberately leaned close to Roy's ear mysteriously: "Keep your voice down, or you'll attract jealousy."

Watching Roy, whom he greatly admired, chatting intimately with Lynch on television, Kobe Bryant gritted his teeth.

What are these two guys talking nonsense about?!
He gulped down a large mouthful of ice water, trying to extinguish the nameless fire in his heart.

However, Brandon Roy is such a good person, he probably wouldn't be trying to put down one person while praising another, right?
I believe him!

On the court, Brandon Roy, known for his "superb character," waved goodbye to Lynch with a satisfied and relieved smile.

As his figure disappeared into the shadows of the players' tunnel, the thrilling battle in the Rose Garden came to an end.

However, the shockwaves from this match are far from over.

活塞队更衣室，看着林奇42分15个篮板4次助攻2次抢断3次封盖的数据，看着林奇最后时刻没有传球的绝杀回放。

LeBron James's good mood after the win was instantly shattered.

When exactly will the New York Knicks suffer their long-awaited first defeat?! On what day will they finally get their first loss?!

They've won 10 games in a row!

This puts the Pistons, who boast three All-NBA players, in a very awkward position with a 7-3 start, far from the overwhelming dominance expected.

In the subsequent locker room interview, LeBron James indeed encountered quite a few troubling questions.

The reporters' microphones, like gun barrels that have smelled blood, were already poised to fire.

"LeBron, if you were facing Lynch, would you choose to pass the ball?" LBJ's expression remained unchanged, as if welded with an iron mask.
"You know, I've always taken pride in carrying the whole team on my shoulders. But more importantly, I always choose to play the right way."

The reporter then extended another "barrel":

"What do you think of the allegations in Mark Stein's latest column? He claims you are the most irresponsible star in the entire league."

"Anyone who has ever watched football knows that's utter nonsense."

"How long do you think the Knicks' winning streak at the start of the season can last? Can it last as long as last season?"

"The New York Knicks are a very good team, but it's pointless to discuss their regular season record. Because no matter how good they are, they can't surpass the record they set last season."

The interview continued, with LBJ answering one embarrassing question after another.

This tense verbal battle finally came to an end after 25 minutes, with LeBron James leaving exhausted.

As soon as his heavy steps entered the dimly lit players' tunnel, he saw two familiar figures leaning against the cold wall not far ahead, talking in hushed tones.

One of the voices made his lips twitch.

"Hahaha, look at this comment! It says LeBron is practically the league's number one TS queen. He has a man's physique, but he always does things that are girly."

Halfway through, the voice stopped abruptly.

Because of the person speaking, Derek Fisher's peripheral vision suddenly caught sight of the mountain-like, silent shadow standing at the end of the passage, its pupils burning with cold lava, silently watching everything here.

This point guard, known for his quick thinking and adaptability, immediately changed his tone. His previous sarcasm now carried a strong sense of justice, as if he hadn't been the one laughing wildly just moments before.
"These damn cyberbullies deserve to go to hell! What's wrong with LeBron? In my eyes, Derek Fisher, LBJ is a very, very smart man!!!"

The words were still echoing in the corridor walls when Derek Fisher dramatically turned half his body to the side, his face instantly switching to an expression of utter delight and enthusiasm.

He opened his arms wide, feigning surprise: "Hey, LeBron! Our superstar has finally arrived. We've been waiting for you for ages."

Billy Hunter slowly turned around next to Fisher. He explained that Fisher had been talking nonsense and had been overheard.

Compared to Fisher's almost overflowing, flamboyant enthusiasm, Billy Hunter's lips merely curled upwards in an almost businesslike arc.

That smile lacked Fisher's warmth and the slightest embarrassment; it only conveyed the professional distance concealed by a suit and tie.

He nodded slightly as a greeting, his gaze behind his glasses as calm as still water.

Billy Hunter simply couldn't muster any enthusiasm for the man who had made labor negotiations difficult due to his cowardice.

Out of politeness, LBJ greeted the two men: "Why didn't you tell me beforehand? What are you doing in Detroit?"

Derek Fisher warmly shook hands with LeBron James: "Ha! Of course I came to watch your game, and by the way..."

Before the ingratiating "by the way" was even out of his mouth, Billy Hunter's cold, crisp, metallic, and emotionless voice had already pierced through Fisher's obsequious barrier, directly and precisely striking at the heart of the matter:
"Let's talk about labor negotiations."

He spoke in the players' tunnel about the labor negotiations and Lynch's demands.

After listening, LeBron waved his hand and said, "You want me to ask Lynch for help? What does that have to do with me?"

Billy Hunter suspects that there is a serious malfunction in his hearing system.

Can you imagine the feeling of a CEO who is struggling to control a situation that has spiraled out of control, only to find that the person who caused the crisis is leisurely whistling and strolling on the edge of the storm?
The entire players' union is ready to repair the dam in the vortex that LeBron himself dug, while he himself at the center of the vortex is as leisurely as a bystander watching the fire from the other side of the river.

Billy Hunter raised his voice:

"What's it to you?! This concerns the pockets and future of every player in the entire league!"
And, although I don't want to be so direct, you are now the most conspicuous thorn in the side and a thorn in the flesh of all small and medium-sized team owners!

Your unprecedented "decision" is the root cause of why these labor negotiations have become so difficult, and the catalyst that has led them to this hellish stalemate!

Billy Hunter, panting heavily, tried to suppress his rage:
"I'm not saying you're wrong, but don't you think that as the person who created all of this, you should stand up for everyone?!"

LeBron James returned a cold stare, unmoved by Billy Hunter's impassioned tone, and repeated the sentence as if reading a simple announcement:
"What does this have to do with me?"

He paused briefly, his voice calm yet undeniably authoritative:
"Listen, everything I did, my transfers, were all done within the rules. Yes, our roster is unprecedented; we have three young All-Star players."

But tell me, which rule did I break? Daniel Gilbert is just being unreasonable.

As for me, if every player has to do these things personally, what's the point of having a players' union?

After saying that, LeBron James turned to leave, then said the same thing as Lynch: "Do you need me to arrange a car to take you back to the hotel?"

The exact same words, falling into Billy Hunter's ears, felt like a whip coated with ice, merciless and coldly driving him away.

"No need, LeBron."

LeBron James, without turning his head, said: "Goodnight, gentlemen."

The heavy footsteps faded into the distance in the passageway, until they disappeared into the darkness at the end.

The air was as silent as a graveyard. Billy Hunter slowly turned to Derek Fisher, who had been playing a supporting role, his face showing no anger, only exhaustion.

"Heh, give that comment a thumbs up, Derek."

"What comment?"

"LeBron is practically the league's number one TS queen!"
-
The Detroit Pistons aren't bad, but they're far too mediocre compared to the New York Knicks. The Knicks, on the other hand, seem to be the team that should be formed by three All-NBA players in their prime. Considering Steve Nash was also an All-NBA selection last season, we could say that Lynch alone is worth two All-NBA players. — Charles Barkley's assessment of the Detroit Pistons on his show.

Kobe Bryant was disappointed with the outcome at the Rose Garden, but hopefully the Los Angeles Lakers won't be disappointed at Staples Center this Christmas. —Los Angeles Times

The negotiations have run into some trouble; some people are shirking responsibility. — Billy Hunter in an interview with ESPN.

I'm not talking about a winning streak. Given the Knicks and Lynch's form, I'm wondering if they could become the first team in NBA history to achieve 70 wins in two consecutive seasons? — Stephen A. Smith on the Knicks' winning streak.

(End of this chapter)