Champion Creed
Chapter 652 - 652 228 He might need someone to back him up more asking for monthly votes!_2

652: 228: He might need someone to back him up more (asking for monthly votes!)_2 652: 228: He might need someone to back him up more (asking for monthly votes!)_2 “I don’t want to drink during the season,” Kobe refused.

O’Neal had enough; in some ways, Kobe was just like a little Roger!

But for some reason, maybe because he hated Roger even more, he felt Kobe wasn’t so annoying, “Whatever you want, how do you feel?

No concussion like me, right?”

“No, I felt great during today’s training.

How about you?

How are you feeling?”

“My jaw still hurts, and my head is still dizzy.

The doctor said it would take a week to heal.”

“I won’t let the team down, you rest easy.”

O’Neal was about to mock Kobe as usual, but as he was about to speak, he paused, “Of course, I believe in you.”

Kobe was somewhat surprised; this was probably the first time O’Neal had spoken like a human.

O’Neal realized that no matter how much he disliked Kobe, Kobe was his best ally at this stage.

He wanted to win, he wanted to crush Roger, he wanted the championship, and he needed Kobe.

He acknowledged Kobe’s talent, just not his arrogance.

But compared to Roger, really, all of Kobe’s faults weren’t that bad.

After chatting a bit more, Kobe got ready to leave.

Before leaving, Kobe told Shaq, “Forget about last night, Shaq, it was just a temporary setback.

We will definitely win the championship, and soon.

Someday, Michael’s end will be Roger’s end.

For that goal, I’m willing to give everything!

Goodbye, get some rest.”

Watching Kobe leave, O’Neal looked at his own hands.

It’s time to end this.

This damn, humiliating life, it all has to end.

Shaq remembered the advert Reebok made for him when he first joined the league.

In the ad, Russell, Chamberlain, Jabbar, and Walton, four legendary centers, said, “Shaq, you’re too early.”

Shaq confidently responded, “I’m ready.”

Then, O’Neal breezed past the legends and pushed open the doors symbolizing success.

At that time, everyone believed O’Neal was there to dominate the league.

Yeah, I’m here to destroy this league!

Shaq’s desire for victory peaked at that moment.

“Hey, Kobe!”

“Huh?” The cauliflower head with hands in his pockets turned lazily.

“We both know what I can do, and we know what you can do.

Listen, give me the ball during the first three quarters, let me do my thing.

In the fourth, I’ll step back, give you more of the ball, and you do your thing.”

Kobe paused for a moment, then continued to pretend he was calm, “Oh.”

“Yeah, goodbye Kobe.”

“Goodbye, Shaq.”

Meanwhile, at Los Angeles International Airport, the Hawks’ players had all boarded and were waiting to take off.

Big Ben grumpily looked at the newspaper, “Why does Roger get a five-game suspension while Kobe Bryant doesn’t get suspended for even a single game?”

Andrae Patterson laughed, “Have you ever seen anyone get suspended for punching the air?”

Patterson looked at Roger sitting by the window, also reading a newspaper.

Patterson asked Roger curiously, “I saw you chatting with a fan in the players’ tunnel for a long time yesterday?”

“Yes, he’s Paul’s neighbor, Officer Kurt Collins.”

“What did you guys talk about?”

Roger put down the newspaper, turned to glance at Pierce sitting in the last row, staring blankly, and shook his head, “Nothing special.”

Paul Pierce was in a terrible mood today.

Yesterday, he was very happy beating Kobe.

But after the brief passion, emptiness lingered around him.

What’s the point of doing this?

Life’s purpose isn’t in such things, why indulge in this cheap thrill?

It’s boring, too boring.

Even if he beat Kobe to the point where he wet his pants on the spot, it couldn’t change the fact that he was thoroughly trounced by Kobe.

He had lost completely.

The sense of defeat Pierce felt last night was too strong; if he couldn’t even beat a trash player like Kobe, how could he be a championship player?

Mid-flight, the emo Pierce took off his headphones and walked over to Roger’s seat, tapping Andrae Patterson on the shoulder, “Bodyguard, switch places with me, I want to talk to Roger for a bit.”

“OK.”

Pierce sat down, looked seriously at Roger, “I want to know your method of training for defense.”

“You want to learn now?

Your ‘take a break’ theory didn’t work out?”

“Roger, stop mocking me.”

“No, losers have to accept mockery and criticism, only winners deserve praise.

We won yesterday, but you were the one dragging us down, so you’re not a winner.”

Pierce didn’t get angry, and his gaze remained firm, “Say what you will, just tell me what to do!”

Good, Pierce’s difference from Stevie Smith was glaringly obvious at that moment.

He didn’t need any extra factors to stimulate his nerves.

A deeply etched defeat was enough.

Win or lose, it was that simple for Pierce.

“You want to know how to be stronger on defense?”

“Yes!”

“Start by focusing on defense in every game, Paul, to hell with ‘taking a break’.

I really think I should be stricter with you.

If you bring that kind of disastrous performance next time, I’ll slap you.”

“Alright, I won’t fight back!”

Paul Pierce’s desire for victory peaked at that moment.

Two days later, the latest issue of “Sports Illustrated” hit the stands.

Roger’s exclusive interview was read all across America.

Of course, that included O’Neal and Kobe.

War?

Ha, bring it on!

The shortened season still proceeded quickly; in just three months, the regular season was down to the wire.