Champion Creed
Chapter 222 - 222 104 At 19 he's already a ruler Seeking monthly tickets!_3

222: 104: At 19, he’s already a ruler (Seeking monthly tickets!)_3 222: 104: At 19, he’s already a ruler (Seeking monthly tickets!)_3 Rich DeVos smiled awkwardly, not liking Shaq discussing his contract renewal in public.

After all, he’s the boss, and it’s up to him to say how much money is on the table.

But now was a time for celebration, and DeVos didn’t dwell on it, letting any displeasure quickly pass.

Finally, the championship trophy made its way into Roger’s hands.

He held the trophy, heavier than he had imagined.

Whether it was the physical weight or the mental weight, it was heavy.

This championship meant something extraordinary for Roger.

It wasn’t just his first career championship.

He had beautifully taken down the team that had abandoned him last season as well as the former champions.

And beautifully defeated the team that had beaten him in the last finals.

Then, he reaped the highest honor.

This shut down all the doubts about Roger, leaving no room for them to survive.

It took his career to a qualitative leap in just his second year!

Sager, in his colorful suit, held the microphone to Roger’s mouth, and Roger realized it was his turn to speak.

Seeing Roger somewhat distracted, Sager simply switched to asking questions.

“After tonight, do you have any other goals?”

Roger looked at Sager, “How many championships has Michael Jordan won previously?”

“Three.”

“No, Craig, not just three championships, it’s a three-peat.

That’s what makes Michael special, and it’s key to establishing his status,” Roger corrected.

“So, your next goal is to catch up with Michael?”

“No, I want to surpass him!”

This answer was very arrogant and rebellious.

If anyone else had said this, fans would probably laugh at that person for not knowing their own limits.

Michael Jordan may have lost this year, but at worst he’s a fallen noble, not someone anyone could surpass just because they wanted to.

But when Roger said it, it somehow didn’t feel out of place.

Considering Roger was only 19, and Shaq was also quite young, anything seemed possible.

In front of the TV, Jordan stared silently at the screen.

Clearly, Roger’s words had greatly displeased him.

Even the people around could feel the intense aura of anger radiating from him.

It was like the kind of silent intensity a feral dog emits when it suddenly gazes at you.

Even Eric Gordon, who wanted another bottle of Coke after finishing one, knew better than to bother Michael Jordan at that moment, lest he shove the straw up his nostril.

Even Reggie Miller didn’t provoke Jordan.

He liked competing with Jordan, sure.

But if he teased him now, it would be more than just competition, and he was sure punches would be thrown.

On the court, he could fight with Jordan, but now, well, he was just here to make a quick buck acting in a movie; it wasn’t worth it.

At the scene, Roger reluctantly ended the interview.

In fact, he had much more to say.

Now that he was a champion, he could boldly express many of his views.

But the championship ceremony was for everyone, and he couldn’t monopolize everyone’s time.

After the other players had also finished their interviews, David Stern picked up a small envelope and glanced inside.

Sager immediately moved on to the next part: “Now, please welcome Commissioner David Stern to announce the results of this season’s Finals MVP voting, and have Mr.

Bill Russell present the award!”

Stern took the microphone, “Without a doubt, he dominated the Finals and made the decisive shot for the championship.

Let’s congratulate Roger, the 1995 NBA Finals MVP, the youngest FMVP in NBA history!”

Roger received the Finals MVP trophy, averting 39 points, 4.2 assists, and 2 steals per game, his performance in the Finals was impeccable.

Of course, Shaq’s stats of 24 points and 12 rebounds were also impressive.

In fact, he received 2 FMVP votes.

But Roger’s scoring was simply too explosive, Shaq and Olajuwon were blowing each other up, but Roger completely outplayed the entire Rockets backcourt.

O’Neal watched Roger lift the FMVP trophy without any expression.

He, like everyone else, applauded and smiled.

But in his eyes, too, there was something others didn’t have—a thirst.

However, this desire was soon overshadowed by the championship trophy in his hands.

The championship trophy was what mattered most.

Surely no one really thought I was on the same level as Pippen?

Well, even if I didn’t get the FMVP this year, there will definitely be other opportunities.

Shaq looked at the trophy he was holding and gave it a French kiss.

“Fuck,” he quickly checked himself, “That’s so damn salty!”

After that, the players returned to the locker room and began the champagne battle under the watch of some reporters.

Rich DeVos wasn’t stingy in this regard; he had ordered hundreds of bottles of champagne for the players to spray freely.

Shaq’s first target was Roger, dousing him with bubbly foam straight to the face.

Roger immediately retaliated, taking a direct shot into his mouth—a shooter’s instinct.

The unluckiest was Derrick McKey, who, inexperienced, embarrassingly struggled to open the champagne.

Seeing everyone else having fun while he couldn’t get his bottle open, he became anxious: “Hey, wait for me, damn it Shaq, how are you already on your second bottle?

Wait, I haven’t sprayed yet, I haven’t sprayed yet!

Can someone help me with this?”

Everyone let the champagne sting their eyes, but nobody considered it pain.

After all, having champagne in the eyes is better than being full of tears.

Of course, it wasn’t just the eyes that had champagne.