Champion Creed
Chapter 705 - 705 243 You are only worthy to make eye contact with me at this height requesting monthly tickets!_2

705: 243: You are only worthy to make eye contact with me at this height (requesting monthly tickets!)_2 705: 243: You are only worthy to make eye contact with me at this height (requesting monthly tickets!)_2 Whether they can stop the Hawks this season is the key to whether the Heat can dominate the East.

Pippen brought the ball past half court, surrounded by the passionate chants of Miami fans, “Defense!

Defense!”

Just like a routine, as soon as Pippen approached the three-point line, he immediately passed the ball to Roger.

Jamal Mashburn was no longer speaking; after all, he had already let Roger score 43 points.

But this time, if the defense were successful, his dignity could still be salvaged.

He, like Sprewell, could only rely on the victory of the game to cover up his personal incompetence.

In fact, this time on defense, these two people in need of redemption were closely linked together.

Mashburn glanced at Sprewell, then took a deep breath, trying not to be so tense.

Roger started to break through, and Jamal Mashburn held up against Roger’s impact with his body.

At the same time, Sprewell came in from the side and pinched just in time!

Roger’s path was instantly sealed, and he had no space to shoot.

He jumped up, leaning on both men, and passed the ball to Paul Pierce, who appeared to be open.

But in fact, Pierce wasn’t open, as Sprewell and PJ Brown both rushed towards him immediately.

Riley’s strategy just now was to have Sprewell help with the double team on Roger, then quickly rotate to disturb Pierce’s shooting.

He was betting, betting that Pierce had no bullets left in his gun.

The Hawks fans were somewhat dumbfounded; this scene was like a nightmare repeating itself.

Last season’s Eastern Conference Finals Game 7, with the Hawks down by three points in the final moments, Roger had to pass the ball to Pierce under the double team; if he had hit that shot to tie the game, there was still hope.

As it turned out, Pierce missed that crucial shot, making only 1 of 9 from the field.

Now, the ones ahead by three points were the Hawks.

But likewise, if Pierce couldn’t make this shot, the scale of victory would tip towards the Heat.

Pierce caught the ball and wasn’t nervous as he saw Sprewell and PJ Brown pressing down on him.

He wouldn’t allow himself to fall in the same place twice.

He also didn’t want to disappoint the man who had twice forgiven him.

He no longer wanted Roger’s forgiveness.

He hoped to earn Roger’s praise.

A kind of “I will absolutely not lose this way again” radiance flickered across Pierce’s face.

To become part of a dynasty, he was ready.

Pierce took the shot steadily, the basketball soaring over the fingertips of PJ Brown and Sprewell, then swishing through the net.

“It’s in!

Paul Pierce doesn’t repeat last season’s tragedy!

This three-pointer gives the Hawks a six-point lead with 55 seconds left!

No chance, the Heat have no chance!

I’m not talking about this game, I mean, the Miami Heat will never, ever be able to beat the Hawks again!” Magic didn’t see just a basket; he saw a key that unlocks the gates of a dynasty.

This three-pointer, yesterday’s broadcast, all these, are part of the slow opening of the dynasty’s doors.

Roger’s best helper is in place, he won’t be dragging Roger down anymore.

This team is ready for all that it takes to create greatness.

Roger and Pierce high-five each other, thumbs up: “Good job, if getting stabbed 13 times makes you stronger, I can serve you every summer.”

“Fuck off, Roger!”

The arena fell silent.

God and the Angel Envoy spread terror in Miami successfully.

But the Heat hadn’t completely given up, Sprewell hadn’t completely given up either.

He didn’t want to lose his big contract, and even less, his dignity.

This time, he wanted to score a quick two points, so after getting the ball, he charged at the basket with Pierce leaning on him.

Mourning blocked Big Ben for him, and Marion was dragged down by P.J.

Brown.

But Sprewell couldn’t escape his fate, as the defensively keen Roger rushed into the paint and slammed the ball Sprewell had raised high down to the floor.

The tremendous impact also sent Sprewell flying out of bounds.

Sitting on the floor, Sprewell watched as Roger, unable to stop because of inertia, continued surging forward.

Then.

Roger deliberately spread his legs and “staggered” a few steps forward, straddling over Sprewell’s head!

“Latrell, you only deserve to look at me from this height.” Roger towered above, his voice devoid of emotion as he utterly crushed Sprewell’s self-esteem.

The man who had openly defied the King during the summer league was met with the execution that had always been destined.

The annoying stray dog finally stopped his rabid barking.

When the hand of fate squeezed his throat, he couldn’t even let out a whimper.

Faced with such an immensely humiliating act, Sprewell didn’t fight back, merely waiting for the referee’s rescue.

Because he knew, Pierce and Roger weren’t like Kevin Garnett.

They would really hit you.

Now, all Sprewell felt was regret.

If he hadn’t gone to Boston that day, hadn’t gone to the summer league, hadn’t said those foolish things from the stands…

none of this might have happened.

At that moment, Sprewell remembered Roger’s warning: I can guarantee that next season, you will regret everything you did today.

He kept his promise.

It was a symbol, a symbol that Roger had completely crushed Sprewell, who had shown him disrespect.

It also symbolized that Roger was once again riding atop the Heat’s head.

Pat Riley sat back on the bench, sighed, and then turned to look at his assistant coach Spoelstra, his face as pale as death.

Spoelstra was startled by Riley’s pallor, looking like Count Dracula from the movies: “What’s the matter, Pat?

Are you not feeling well?

Call the team doctor!”

“No, don’t worry,” Riley waved his hand, “I was just thinking…

we might never be able to win a championship during Roger’s peak.

If this guy retires one day, I will call for the league to retire number 14.

His legend deserves to be honored in every arena.”

Spoelstra was surprised to hear Riley say such a thing.

This iron-fisted Godfather always pursued victory, but he actually thought he could never win a championship in Roger’s era?

There was only one explanation — he had truly been subdued by Roger.

From New York to Miami, from the Knicks to the Heat, all of Riley’s efforts would ultimately become a backdrop to Roger’s accomplishments.

98 to 90, the Atlanta Hawks won the last Christmas battle of the 90s away from home.

Roger had 45 points, 6 assists, 5 rebounds, 3 steals, and 2 blocks, taking down the opponents who had eliminated them last season with a very convincing victory.

So far, two months into the new season, the defending champion Spurs, the Lakers with their 16-game winning streak, and the Eastern champions Heat, had all been viciously defeated, with none spared.

After the game, Steve Jones lamented, “Roger’s era is coming again!”

But the Magic corrected him, “No, Roger’s era never ended.”