Champion Creed
Chapter 846 - 846 282 There are no small roles here; everyone is a big figure!

846: 282: There are no small roles here; everyone is a big figure!

(Requesting monthly votes!) 846: 282: There are no small roles here; everyone is a big figure!

(Requesting monthly votes!) This is the third time Jeff Hornacek has stepped onto the finals stage in his career.

The first two times were with the Utah Jazz, and well, thanks to Roger, the results were less than ideal.

You could even say it was humiliating.

He first lost to Magic’s Roger and then lost to the Hawks’ Roger the following year.

Roger single-handedly destroyed the Utah duo’s decade-long efforts and perseverance, effectively closing the Jazz’s championship window.

Look at the Utah Jazz now; Karl Malone and John Stockton are like two old men who have lost hope in life, waiting to decay and rot in that dilapidated place of Salt Lake City.

The past two finals trips did not leave Jeff Hornacek with pleasant memories, but this time, he firmly believes everything will be different.

Even though what awaits him is the most dominant team in NBA playoff history.

The Los Angeles Lakers in the West are like the Polish winged hussars sweeping through Europe.

Of course, you could also say they’re like the Mongol cavalry or German armored units; anyway, that place has been overrun by various people many times.

All you need to know is that before this, not even the Atlanta Hawks showed such outrageous dominance in the playoffs.

Last season, the Hawks had a legendary undefeated playoff run, and the Lakers added an even more unbelievable condition to that—winning by double digits every game.

But even if the Lakers’ record is so incredible, Jeff Hornacek is still full of confidence for the finals.

This season with the Atlanta Hawks, Hornacek gained an unprecedented confidence.

No matter how talented Tracy McGrady is, no matter how terrifying Vince Carter’s threes are, no matter how determined Allen Iverson is, in the end, Roger will lead the team to overcome them.

Of course, Jeff Hornacek himself also helped a lot.

In the Eastern Conference Finals’ G1 and G4, he became the key point that determined the outcome, and his threes in the fourth quarter struck fear into countless opponents.

However, he doesn’t think what he did was particularly extraordinary.

He just needed to make the threes, which he’s taken almost 3,000 times throughout his career, when Roger draws the double-team.

And when he can help Roger space the floor, he just needs to stand on the court and watch Roger’s solo performance.

Roger is the incredible one; he’s also the source of Hornacek’s confidence.

No one can stop that guy, and the finals will be no different.

On the day the finals G1 started, Jeff Hornacek got to the Emory Healthcare Center early.

He needed to drain fluid in advance and then adjust to the feeling of the knee after fluid extraction.

Walking into the therapy room, Hornacek noticed Michael Reed already getting a muscle relaxation massage, indicating that he just finished training.

Hornacek was used to this; Michael Reed was already a well-known “gym rat” on the team.

Sitting on the treatment bed, Hornacek casually asked Reed, “How long have you been practicing?”

“Two hours.”

“Save some energy; there’s still a game tonight.”

Reed nodded; although his playing time in the playoffs so far hasn’t been much, he was still prepared.

Because Roger often told him, “Having an opportunity is not enough; you need to grasp it.

If a girl drinking a cold beverage gets in your car at midnight, you can’t let her go home, got it?”

This analogy was incredibly vivid and left a strong impression on Michael Reed.

So he always tried to stay in shape, waiting for that girl drinking a cold beverage to get in his car.

At this moment, Hornacek’s phone rang.

Everyone in the therapy room tacitly fell silent, waiting for Hornacek to answer the call.

“Dear, yes, I just got to the training center, now getting ready to coach Michael.

The kid has improved a lot; I think he’ll get playing time in the finals.

I have to continue helping him train, Michael, say hello.” Hornacek said, moving the phone towards Reed’s mouth.

Reed looked at Hornacek speechlessly, then quickly adjusted his mood and energetically shouted into the phone, “Good morning, ma’am.”

Then, the lethal 3-point shooter retrieved the phone, “Remember to come early in the afternoon, or the traffic will be terrible.

Also, let Abby cut down on the ice cream; she’s sweet enough.

That’s it, dear, goodbye.”

After hanging up, Jeff Hornacek and everyone in the therapy room let out a sigh of relief.

It was as though a group of men singing to evade their wives’ supervision suddenly relaxed.

The team doctor draining fluid for Hornacek shook his head, “You should tell your wife, Jeff.

How long can you keep it from her?

She has the right to know your health situation.”

“Come on, she already has her hands full with three kids at home.

There’s no need to add to her troubles.

Besides, I can handle it.”

That’s right; Jeff Hornacek has never told his wife about his physical condition.

His reason for getting to the training center early was always to “help Michael improve.”

If he told Stacy that he frequently drained fluid, she’d probably go crazy.

Because her condition for Jeff Hornacek continuing to play ball was maintaining health.

Young Michael Reed, who was shouldering the blame, shrugged: “I also think you should tell her.

I feel like I’m in danger now.

If she ever finds out the truth, she’ll probably blow my face off with a shotgun.”

Hornacek laughed and patted Reed’s shoulder, “Don’t worry, Michael, Stacy won’t be that rough.

At most, she’ll use a small-caliber handgun to put a hole in your forehead.”