Champion Creed
Chapter 736 - 736 251 The Arrogant God and the Opponent Begging for Mercy on Their Knees Seeking Monthly Tickets!_4

736: 251: The Arrogant God and the Opponent Begging for Mercy on Their Knees (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)_4 736: 251: The Arrogant God and the Opponent Begging for Mercy on Their Knees (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)_4 As for Sprewell, his form had completely vanished, and even if he was set free, he wouldn’t be able to help the team on the offensive end.

So regrettably, no one would take Sprewell’s position.

More and more fans were turning on their TVs to watch this game, nobody wanted to miss such an extreme performance of one-on-one basketball.

In the following game, Roger tormented Sprewell’s nerves in every way imaginable.

Even the fans felt that Sprewell’s experience was simply too tragic.

Every round he would be blown past; every round he would be targeted.

In the second quarter, at the fifth minute, Sprewell finally managed to draw a foul through a breakaway, but since his mentality had already collapsed, he only made one of the two free throws, securing just one point.

That was also his only score up to that point.

Bob Costas handed down a death sentence for Spree’s offseason: “Latrell can’t play in high-end games; he cannot compete with top-tier stars, not even a bit of resistance.

Therefore, championship teams are unlikely to meet his contract demands.”

Having scored a point, Sprewell continued to be flaunted.

It didn’t matter how Roger dealt with Sprewell, because no matter what, he was going to lose.

Halfway through the game, Roger had already amassed 34 points, 16 of them in a single quarter.

All 16 points were scored by playing one-on-one against Sprewell.

The Hawks led the Heat by 15 points going into the second half.

The trial would continue!

Just thinking about the second half filled Sprewell with despair.

Sprewell watched the cheering Hawks players, breathing heavily and rapidly.

He had such an intense feeling of suffocation, that he needed to take deep breaths just to feel alive.

Returning to the locker room, Pierce jokingly asked Roger, “Feeling good?”

Roger shook his head, “Just 34 points, given Latrell’s series of misdeeds, that’s far from enough.”

Angel Envoy Paul began to arrange things for God, “Let Roger keep playing in the second half, who supports, who opposes?”

There were no disagreeing voices.

Undoubtedly, tonight’s game would be a playoff legend remembered forever; no one wanted to disrupt the beauty of Roger’s legendary night.

Just one game, everyone could accept that.

In the second half, the slaughter continued.

Sprewell was losing face every round; it was a lopsided conflict akin to the Gulf War, a complete case of the strong preying on the weak.

Approaching the end of the third quarter, Roger scored his 47th point of the game with two free throws.

Pat Riley’s face was expressionless; he couldn’t remember how many times Roger had scored so highly against his team’s defence.

Bob Costas also exclaimed, “Latrell is like a dead man out there, completely lifeless!”

At that moment, the score between Roger and Sprewell was 47 to 3!

Sprewell’s spirit had been completely broken, time and again, the physical exertion for nothing, the missed shots, the failed defense, the torn dignity; he silently savored the pain and inferiority…

Sprewell even had the illusion that “if Roger wanted, he could score 100 points on me at any time.”

In the fourth quarter, Roger continued to play.

The Heat were down by 21 points but still refused to give up, so Sprewell was on the court as well.

Right at the start, Roger landed his 50th point of the game with a long shot.

Sprewell actually felt a sense of relief.

It was over, it had all finally ended.

This evil day had ended.

Roger scored 50 points, he should have stopped, right?

One round later, Allan Houston miraculously scored a four-pointer, bringing the deficit back to 17 points.

But the gap was still large, and Roger had already scored 50 points, so Sprewell thought he wouldn’t be tortured anymore.

Yet as Roger crossed half-court, he raised his hand: “Give me the ball!”

Sprewell felt like the sky was falling, wasn’t this guy satisfied yet?

“Roger…”

“Hey, I’m a man of my word, I said I would hold you to 50 points while stopping you, and those 10 points I scored before I said that don’t count.

So technically, I’ve only got 40 points now.”

Then Roger changed direction, passing by a completely defeated Sprewell.

Roger’s gaze was cold, without a hint of pity.

He wanted to continue tormenting Sprewell, he wanted the whole world to know what happens when you touch his taboo.

Swish.

52 points, Roger set a new playoff career-high for himself.

“Damn, hasn’t he had enough yet!?” Pat Riley turned to look at Spoelstra.

He hoped Roger’s good friend could provide an answer.

Spoelstra sighed, “Latrell is done for, Pat.

Take him out, or he will become the most pitiful player in playoff history.

No, he already is.

That’s the kind of person Roger is.

He takes merciless revenge on all opponents who disrespect him, that’s the kind of person he is.”

For the rest of the game, Roger continued to rub salt into Sprewell’s wounds.

Sprewell’s breathing became more and more rapid; he opened his mouth as wide as possible, exhaling as much as he could, to ensure he wouldn’t die on the court.

But the more he gasped for air, the worse his body felt.

A little dizzy, a little weak in the limbs, even a tingling on the skin.

What was going on?

Was he going to die of humiliation on the court?

In the fourth minute of the fourth quarter, when Roger scored his 62nd point of the night with a three-pointer over Sprewell’s head, Sprewell could no longer support himself.

His legs gave way and he knelt right in front of Roger, clutching Roger’s thighs to support his upper body, as if seeking mercy from a god.

Roger looked down at him coldly: “Alright, now that’s 50 points.

Show some respect, and I can forgive you.”

The crowd stirred, and even the well-informed Steve Jones was unsettled: “Is Roger…

literally bringing Latrell to his knees!?”

Countless journalists captured this moment with their cameras.

Then, the Heat’s medical team rushed to the court, suspecting that Sprewell was showing signs of respiratory alkalosis.

Respiratory alkalosis, you can understand it as hyperventilating causing excessive carbon dioxide to be expelled, reducing the acids and increasing the alkaline in the body, leading to poisoning symptoms.

This condition can cause paralysis of the limbs, and in severe cases, it can be life-threatening.

Indeed, everyone knows that overeating can cause death by overindulgence, but overbreathing can also cause trouble.

This usually happens in moments of extreme anger or extreme sadness, where people tend to take consecutive deep breaths.

As for Sprewell?

He was gasping out of excessive humiliation.

No matter the reason, no matter the situation.

The proud god and opponent begging on their knees.

It had already become the first famous painting of the 21st-century basketball world.