Champion Creed
Chapter 96 - 96 064 The Bloodiest Slaughter Roger Repeatedly Seals the Throat!_3

96: 064: The Bloodiest Slaughter, Roger Repeatedly Seals the Throat!_3 96: 064: The Bloodiest Slaughter, Roger Repeatedly Seals the Throat!_3 But this is the NBA, welcome to the NBA!

Just bear with it a bit longer, in another 18 seconds, you’ll be able to hide in the locker room and cry in the arms of your frail European friend!”

Riley was truly angry; otherwise, he wouldn’t have shouted at the opposing player in such a crucial moment.

He was also truly confident because 18 seconds wasn’t enough for Roger to find his rhythm again.

At that moment, he unleashed all the pent-up frustrations in his heart.

That 18-year-old punk was finally under his foot!

The game paused again, and the New York fans in the stands started to chant “Fvck Roger” in unison.

The clueless Bulls players were restless on the bench as Knicks fans tortured their eardrums with jeers.

Now everything hinged on Roger; whether he could regain his touch immediately after these two timeouts was crucial for the Bulls’ victory.

Phil Jackson relayed his strategy as David Falk watched intently in front of the television, only for the screen to suddenly go black.

Michael Jordan, with the remote in his hand, turned off the TV, even though Falk was still watching; some decisions he could make without considering others, such was Michael Jordan.

“Michael, it’s the most tense moment of the game,” David Falk said, still wanting more.

“You might understand all there is about law and contract negotiations, David.

But I have to say, you truly don’t understand basketball.

It’s over, the game is over.

Roger is done.

Pat was smart; he shattered the kid’s touch in the last moments.

How about we bet on it?

Bet $5000,” Jordan said, barely hiding a smirk.

“Forget it, Michael, I’m not interested.

So, can you answer that question now?

When are you planning to return to the NBA?”

Jordan felt cheered knowing Roger had lost in the East Finals, and thinking how people would begin to miss him.

Without my intervention, people saw he simply couldn’t replace me.

So, he answered with a smile: “No need to hurry; maybe there’s still a turnaround in the Major League labor negotiations.

Enough about that, David, I’m off to play cards.

Tonight’s really a beautiful night; I’m sure to win big!”

As Jordan dressed and got in the car headed for the largest Hollywood casino near Chicago in Joliet, he still didn’t know.

A grand performance named Miracle was unfolding at Madison Square Garden.

At this moment, Michael Jordan wasn’t the only one who felt the game had lost its suspense.

The fans inside Madison Square Garden were already cheering.

Pat Riley had just berated Roger, essentially declaring victory.

The big screen was still replaying Ewing’s recent thrilling pivot shot.

One had to admit, it was an incredibly ugly shot.

It’s hard to imagine that such an ugly bucket might likely appear in Ewing’s career-highlight reel.

New York fans often complained that Ewing wasn’t as spectacular as Space City’s Olajuwon, but this time, at least, they cheered for Ewing’s ungainly moves.

Amidst the cheers, some fans had already started to leave early.

New York’s traffic is notoriously difficult to deal with; if you wait until the end of the game, it might take over an hour to catch a cab and another hour stuck in traffic to get home.

Even though the Eastern Conference championship ceremony was still to come, it was akin to those logos of movie companies shown before a film starts: necessary, but truly no one cares.

In a remote, high-tier seat, a black mother glanced at her child: “Let’s go home.”

The adorable baby-faced boy holding a popcorn said, “Can I finish my popcorn before we leave?”

“Alright Melo, you can finish eating and then we’ll leave, you can even move to an unoccupied seat closer to the court,” she responded.

The boy happily picked up his popcorn and moved a few rows forward.

He cherished the evening deeply, as for a family in his financial situation, attending an NBA Conference Final, even high up in seats more about ambiance than visibility, was a rare opportunity.

Finally, sitting in a relatively forward row, the boy could see the players on the court more clearly.

He saw Pat Riley strategizing, saw Patrick Ewing laughing heartily.

He also saw Roger, the prime enemy of New York, just sitting there, listening to the fans’ chants of “Fvck Roger” for encouragement.

Yet he kept his expression resolute and fixed on the tactical board, seeming not to give up on the game.

But the boy didn’t feel there was any suspense left in the game as, by previous precedents, it was unlikely for Roger to find his rhythm in 18 seconds.

All he wanted now was to sit through the game and finish his popcorn.

NBC commentator Steve Jones felt somewhat reluctant: “Roger was almost there, just a bit away from topping the East and defeating Pat Riley.

But like Pat said, the playoffs are even more brutal.

If he can’t find his touch immediately after the timeouts, the game is over.”

Steve Jones hadn’t forgotten about Roger’s miraculous winning shot in Game 1 of the series.

But creating miracles twice in one series?

That was incredibly hard.

It was normal for Steve Jones to think this, not everyone is as unlucky as the GOAT to be defeated twice in a series by a buzzer-beater from Jamal Murray.