Champion Creed
Chapter 820 - 820 275 Good man Roger

820: 275: Good man Roger?

(Seeking monthly votes!) 820: 275: Good man Roger?

(Seeking monthly votes!) Jeff Hornacek rarely uses foul language on the court; as the father of three kids, he’s always wanted to be an excellent role model.

For the first time, he cursed an opponent to his face, calling him an idiot.

But Hornacek didn’t feel guilty at all; on the contrary, he felt an unprecedented thrill.

He had been bound by words like moral, responsibility, and role model for too long, and had never done anything outrageous in his life.

But today, everything that happened changed Jeff Hornacek’s orderly life.

He realized that being a bit bad occasionally wasn’t such a big deal.

In fact, in the half-year since joining the Hawks, Hornacek experienced more transformative events than he had in the past decade.

He had never met such a charismatic leader.

Never seen a coach who encouraged his players to get into fights with opponents.

Never been part of such a cohesive team.

Never realized that winning could be so easy.

And likewise, never realized that Jerry Stackhouse was just a weakling, tough on the outside but soft within.

He would never forget Stackhouse’s expression just now— a mix of fear and anger, unwillingness and timidity appearing together.

Ultimately, Stackhouse was scared; he bowed to Hornacek, whom he had never respected before.

This was precisely the most transformative part for Hornacek, when he realized that Roger’s methods were actually more effective than the League!

The League’s penalties never made Jerry Stackhouse repent; instead, they made him increasingly arrogant.

But Roger needed only half a game to completely change that arrogant bastard.

Back in the locker room, Lenny Wilkens hardly laid out any tactics.

In just half the game, he realized that the Pistons and players like Jerry Stackhouse weren’t worth his words at all.

Actually, before the game started, Lenny Wilkens was quite wary of the Pistons; after all, Stackhouse delivered many unforgettable scoring performances this season, and he thought the Pistons had the ability to pull off an upset.

But now he understood that his concern was completely unnecessary.

The players chatted in the locker room, Big Ben proudly boasted about how Patterson had just frightened Jerry Stackhouse: “You guys should’ve seen Andrae’s expression—he looked like the Punisher from Marvel comics; I felt Jerry was about to pee his pants from fear!”

As a player who mixed contracts in the NBA by fighting, Andrae Patterson liked this kind of praise, so he cooperatively mimicked a classic line from the Punisher: “If you’re guilty, you’re dead!”

The whole locker room burst into laughter, enjoying the camaraderie.

Jeff Hornacek smiled along, having read some Punisher comics, roughly about a retired Marine whose family gets slaughtered by gangsters but failed to sue, then turns to brutal means to punish the wicked.

Of course, he’s an “antihero.” Most superheroes champion justice and punish crime, while the Punisher only punishes crime without promoting justice.

He treats villains more cruelly than the villains themselves.

To be honest, this indeed aligns with Roger’s style.

Finally, everyone looked at Jeff Hornacek: “How does it feel, Jeff?

Seeing that guy grovel before you.”

Jeff Hornacek, the recognized honest man, for the first time bore a villainous grin: “Feels fantastic!”

In the second half, Jeff Hornacek was on fire, repeatedly scoring long shots over Stackhouse’s head.

The three-point legend of Salt Lake City made it rain in Georgia.

When Hornacek hit his fifth three-pointer over Stackhouse’s head, the lethal 3-point shooter shouted at the self-important genius: “Loser Jerry, scoring king?

You can’t even beat an old man!”

Satisfaction, ultimate satisfaction.

Jeff Hornacek hadn’t been this satisfied in his prior 14-year career.

Jerry Stackhouse gritted his teeth; he never thought he would one day be humiliated by someone like Hornacek.

But what could he do?

If he dared to act outrageously, he might gain something identical to Michael Jordan apart from “graduating from North Carolina” and “becoming the strongest pick”: titanium implants in the eyes.

He believed that Roger’s team could pull this off.

So there was no way, no matter how Jeff Hornacek taunted him, he could only endure silently.

When the game ended, the Atlanta Hawks won by 24 points without any suspense.

And they won by 24 points even when Roger didn’t play a minute in the fourth quarter.

Jerry Stackhouse scored 25 points in total, which seemed decent at first glance, but a shooting percentage of under 30% made his 25 points extremely ridiculous.

Because Roger scored the same points with only half the shots.

Jerry Stackhouse entered Philips Arena with pride, but left like a defeated dog.

When he entered the player tunnel, a reporter who caught up asked him the question “Do you still want to win the scoring title?” Jerry Stackhouse felt mocked and flew into a rage.

“Go to hell!

Stop taking me as a joke!”

In his view, that question was like asking a struggling student “Can you get into Harvard?” It was outright sarcasm.

The shouted-at reporter felt wronged, but—it was originally something you said you wanted anyway.