Chapter One Hundred: Victory

Barbosa was trying to provoke a clash, baiting Starshine He into throwing hands with him.

But he was too naive. Starshine He was not a man of the fight-and-retreat school, yet he possessed its very soul.

As for how to profit within the rules, he had studied the matter at considerable length.

So although Barbosa and Starshine He sounded as if they were tearing into each other, nothing of substance was happening at all.

Between the two of them seemed to stand a transparent iron barrier, preventing either side from making the first move.

Players from both teams crowded in, and so did the referee.

Then Barbosa only cursed more fiercely.

"Wow, you look like a dog finally seeing its master," Starshine He sneered.

Most dogs are like that: cowardly as can be when the master is absent, but once they spot the master coming and realize there will be no fight, they bark even louder.

The Clippers players broke into a cold sweat at those words. They very much wanted to remind Starshine He that he was no different. It hardly became him to criticize the pot for being black.

Barkley saw through this with brutal precision and remarked on the show, "Don't think that because Starshine He often sparks trouble he must be tough. In truth, he's just like Rodman, a complete bad boy. He doesn't start swinging first, and he doesn't even necessarily swing back. He just keeps baiting the other guy into making the first move, then cashes in on the advantage."

"It takes courage to provoke an opponent. When a fist can come flying at any moment, do you think someone without guts would dare do that? I think Starshine He is smart not to throw punches. He knows exactly what he should do to help his team better," Smith countered.

"Oh, come on. You've managed to dress up being soft in such a refined and noble way, Kenny. That takes talent," Barkley mocked.

"You're the tough one, then. Did your toughness win your team a championship?" Smith fired back.

"......"

Barkley fell silent.

In front of the television, seeing Barkley made speechless like that, countless viewers nearly laughed themselves senseless.

As the saying goes, money lets people speak louder.

In the NBA, people with honors can speak louder too.

If anyone refuses to accept it, six championship rings are enough to shut them up.

In a war of words, Barkley was no match for Jordan.

On the court, the altercation was not severe. The referee merely warned both sides, and play resumed.

The Suns had the ball.

With no fast break available, they had to grind it out in the half court.

Any sufficiently attentive viewer could tell that the Suns had already slowed down.

The players still seemed to be running, but much of it was pointless drifting, with no good shots emerging.

As the shot clock nearly expired, Nash could only pass to Marion, who appeared to have the best opening.

Marion tried to drive, but Starshine He and Maggette trapped him.

By this stage of the game, Starshine He still had the energy to help on defense, and that left the Suns feeling utterly helpless.

Marion tried to kick it out, but he committed a turnover and Maggette stripped the ball away.

Starshine He scooped up the loose ball and took off in transition, looking even more eager for the fast break than the Suns themselves.

To D'Antoni, that sight was nothing short of a knife to the heart.

He had wanted to wear down the Clippers' stamina and will, only to backfire spectacularly and drain his own team's energy and resolve first.

For him, this was not merely about losing a game. It was his entire philosophy being put on trial.

Starshine He surged downcourt, with only Nash able to keep pace.

But Starshine He feared no one, least of all Nash. In the physical duel, he even held a slight edge.

103 to 107.

With a fearless finish at the rim, Starshine He completed the play, and the Clippers added two more points to their lead.

Then he rushed to the front of the Suns' bench and shouted, "This is my house."

What the hell? I'm not your man. Don't talk nonsense.

Eddie House of the Suns stared back in bafflement.

The Suns came down on offense and again found themselves bogged down in the half court.

In this kind of pressure moment, they fell apart.

Barbosa, who had been shooting 44.4 percent from three, missed a crucial shot.

When he turned back, his expression had changed at once, as if he had donned a genuine mask of agony.

That miss was fatal for the Suns.

"What's the use of a high shooting percentage if you can't make it when it matters most?" Starshine He did not forget to throw in a taunt.

Barbosa clenched his fists, and one could almost hear the joints crackling.

Then came the Clippers' possession.

Starshine He worked a two-man play with Livingston, shook loose from Bell, and arrived in front of Barbosa.

Using his height advantage, he rose right over Barbosa and fired.

Swish.

Magnificent. This was the perfect time to strike at an opponent's confidence.

Starshine He had just opened his mouth when he saw Barbosa's ferocious expression, as though he had already gone dark.

The words reached his lips, then were swallowed back down.

Watching Barbosa's face twist more and more into something ugly, Starshine He had no doubt that if he said one more word, the other man would charge at him like a rabid dog and try to tear him apart.

103 to 110.

With two minutes left, there was still, in theory, a chance to catch up.

But in reality, the odds of a comeback in this situation were less than twenty-five percent.

Seeing victory nearly within reach, the Clippers players were electric with excitement.

They only had to hold on for two more minutes, and suddenly their backs felt fine, their legs felt light, and they were ready to throw down five dunks without taking a breath.

Fueled by that focus and intensity, the Clippers maintained the margin.

Whenever the Suns scored, the Clippers answered.

At last, with ten seconds remaining, the score stood at 107 to 114, and the outcome was settled.

"Charles, do you remember what you said before the game?" Smith asked, seeing the result no longer in doubt and beginning to tease Barkley.

"I said the Suns would win, and I was wrong. So what? It's not the first time I've been wrong. But I'm right more often than I'm wrong. Why don't you mention that?" Barkley protested with injured dignity.

Because of a few bad predictions, some fans had branded him a jinx, but he was not having it.

"Hahaha, fine. Let's talk about our big cousin then. After this game, has your opinion of him changed at all? He finished with 28 points, 3 assists, and 4 rebounds, shooting 10 of 18 from the field, 5 of 10 from three, and 3 of 5 from the line..."

Smith went on.

The game was still not over.

Even with only ten seconds left, they still had to play it out by the book.

Starshine He brought the ball across half court, and by the look of it, he did not intend to attack at all.

One by one, the Suns players lowered their heads and gave up on applying pressure.

They were not convinced. They felt Starshine He had won through underhanded means.

But whether they were convinced or not, they had no answer for him at all.

At that moment, Starshine He stopped dribbling, sat down squarely on the basketball, and waited for the clock to run out.

It was merely one of his reflexive little antics, a bit of clowning around, but to Barbosa it was outright humiliation.

In all the games he had ever played, he had never seen anyone put a basketball under his backside.

Furious, he strode over and kicked the ball, sending Starshine He sprawling onto the floor.