Basketball trainer, I created a super giant

Chapter 109 is not about one person, but about a whole family.
Push him aside, then punch him!
In Jordan's mind, a voice whispered like a demon.

He was absolutely certain that the kid was doing it on purpose.

The so-called thanks, greeting cards, and jersey exchanges—none of them were sincere.

You cunning and hypocritical brat, I have good judgment, I would have chosen you a hundred times over.

Jordan was caught in a mental struggle when someone suddenly patted him on the shoulder.

I turned my head and was met with a hippie face.

“Michael, my old friend.” Larry Bird smiled and opened his arms, embracing Jordan without a word.

Who says you're an old friend!
Jordan cursed under his breath, almost forgetting about that old man, Biden.

Even after retiring, you still can't behave yourself. You have to come here and act as a scapegoat, trying to make yourself look good!
Despite cursing inwardly, Jordan forced a smile and patted Bird hard on the back.

Feeling the weight on his back, Bird felt even happier; that bastard must be furious.

Bird grabbed Brown, who was trying to slip away, and waved to the reporters watching, saying with a smile, "Michael, you have such a good eye! This is the number one pick you personally selected. Look how well he performed today! He's simply a genius!"

Jordan rolled his eyes inwardly and muttered to himself, "Don't get angry. If I get angry, who will benefit?"

"Come on, Kwame, don't be shy, hold up your jersey. It's proof that Michael approves of you. And Michael, hold it up higher. By the way, why aren't you smiling?"

Bird grinned, looking incredibly happy.

Brown held up his jersey like a good boy.

Jordan felt physically uncomfortable and was so angry that his hand holding the jersey trembled slightly.

The flash went off.

Two legendary superstars, a rising star, past and future, a perfect composition; the reporter wanted to keep snapping photos until the shutter clicked.

Bird pulled the two closer together, then leaned down and asked, "Kwame, are you happy?"

"Sir, I'm happy."

Brown glanced quickly at Jordan and nodded slightly.

“Michael, are you happy?” Bird asked, turning his head again.

After pausing, he added, "By the way, when I came here, Isaiah asked me to pass on a message to you, saying that he believed in your abilities and that you would definitely win the match. And look what happened, I told you that guy was a jinx."

Mentioning Isaiah Thomas's name nearly made Jordan explode with frustration.

He turned to look at Bird, his eye twitching slightly. "Old Bird, the reporters saved you today."

Bird didn't seem to care and continued, "But it's okay, there's another game at the end of the month."

On December 21st, the Wizards will visit Orlando for another game.

Jordan felt a sudden urge to go black.

There isn't just one more game, there are three more games.

"Isiah couldn't make it to cheer you on for this game, but it's okay. He said there are still several games this season, and he'll find a chance eventually." Bird didn't care about Jordan's murderous glare; he was secretly overjoyed.

"Okay, I'll wait for him," Jordan said through gritted teeth.

Bird suddenly became serious and said, "Michael, why do I feel like you're angry with me? We're good friends, and I flew for several hours to get here for you today."

His innocent expression made Jordan so angry he almost ground his teeth to powder.

"No, why would I be angry? I should thank you properly."

After saying that, Jordan shook off Bird's hand, patted Brown on the shoulder one last time, forced a smile, and turned to leave.

He felt that if he stayed any longer, he really wouldn't be able to stand it anymore.

Bird was about to lose his temper too, and gave Brown a thumbs up, praising him, "Kid, well done."

After saying that, he turned and left gracefully.

Of all the boasting I've done in my life, today feels like the most satisfying.

Brown tried to slip away, but the reporters weren't about to let him off the hook.

The question that came right off the bat was sharp, like an air raid siren going off.

A TNT reporter asked Brown how it felt to dunk on Jordan.

Before the game, Connors had prepared answers to a lot of questions for Brown, but he never expected Brown to dunk over Jordan.

So Brown's mind went blank for a moment.

This is a sideline interview, and it's being broadcast live.

Although Brown had a youthful, impulsive urge to say something that felt really good.

It's all about seeking revenge and settling scores.

Brown will remember someone who is kind to him for a lifetime.

If someone treats you like a fool and discards you like trash, then you must strive to get your revenge.

But it's just a thought; if I say it out loud, it might cause quite a stir.

After thinking for a moment, Brown said, "To be honest, I don't know. It was just a very ordinary ball, nothing special. It doesn't prove anything."

The reporter who asked the question was filled with displeasure; this answer was utterly uninteresting.

Even in the studio, Barkley couldn't help but yell, "Kwame, the game is over, you've already won. Learn from Larry, when he was holding you, didn't he teach you a few tricks? Damn it, where's the lip-reading expert? Why isn't he here yet?"

The scene of the three of them taking a photo together was also captured on camera.

Barkley, with his sharp eyes, saw it clearly: Bird spoke to Jordan, but he didn't know what they said.

But he believed that old Biden certainly hadn't said anything nice.

Because Jordan's face clearly showed that I was very unhappy.

"Calm down, Charles." Smith, who was also sly, said in a serious tone, "I think Brown is right. He said a long time ago that he is very grateful to Michael and the Wizards for choosing him as the number one pick."

"What he's saying now might just be his true feelings."

"You have to understand, this was a game full of love and gratitude. It wasn't as complicated as we thought. Kwame was just trying his best to perform with a grateful heart, to prove to everyone how good Michael's judgment was, and that he was right to pick him as the number one draft pick."

"And Michael, don't think Michael will be angry. How could he? He's so magnanimous. On the court, he's a respected senior. He always takes care of the younger players. He's a role model."

"So I believe that Michael will be very pleased to see Brown perform so well, because that's what he wanted to see."

"Look, he even stayed behind after the game and smiled as he accepted Kwame's thanks."

"So Charles, you can't talk about Michael like that."

Smith lectured with a serious expression.

Barkley blinked hard, clearly understanding, and immediately cooperated, raising his hand obediently to indicate that he was wrong, and even apologizing to Jordan from afar.

That's right, it was a thank-you party. Nobody was angry; everyone was happy. Brown was happy, and Jordan was happy too.

The two were exchanging barbs, and Ernie Johnson, who was about to lose his temper, changed the subject, saying, "I'm really curious what Kwame wrote on the card to Michael. I wonder if Michael will read it aloud at the post-game press conference later."

Upon hearing this, Barkley instantly perked up again.

Unfortunately, the post-match press conference will take quite a while, and the live broadcast will end soon.

"Damn it, I really wish I could be there," Barkley said, looking frustrated.

Look at Bird, traveling all that way to see the excitement. I should learn from him.

……

"Michael, don't be angry."

These were the first words Collins said to Jordan when he returned to the locker room and was waiting for him outside.

Jordan ignored him and pushed open the locker room door. He then casually tossed Brown's jersey and greeting card into the trash can.

The locker room, which was already filled with hushed whispers, became even quieter when Jordan entered; you could hear a pin drop.

Haywood huddled in the corner, his head almost buried in his knees, lest Jordan spot him.

Jordan ignored everyone and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door shut.

To be honest, the locker room doors are quite soundproof, but the bathroom doors are really bad at soundproofing.

Moreover, Jordan's commotion was extraordinary, with a lot of crashing and banging, mixed with angry yet suppressed growls and curses.

Everyone looked at each other, trembling with fear.

It took Jordan a full five minutes to open the door and come out.

His clothes were completely soaked, and his cold gaze swept over everyone present: "The restroom is broken, don't use it for now."

After saying that, he silently went into the bathroom.

After quickly showering and changing his clothes, Jordan walked out of the locker room as if nothing had happened and headed to the arena's press conference room.

They had all gone out when they remembered something, turned back, and pulled the greeting card out of the trash can.

He didn't look at it, but silently adjusted his mindset, and then strode into the press conference room.

come on!

They just want to see me make a fool of myself!
I'm a respectable person, I don't care. Back then, there were plenty of people waiting to see me make a fool of myself, who do you think you are?

With this in mind, amidst a barrage of flashing lights, Jordan sat proudly in his seat. Without him even calling out names, the reporters below were already raising their hands frantically.

Jordan composed himself slightly. He knew he was in for a beating no matter what, so he decided to see what kind of nasty things these guys could say.

He randomly picked a reporter.

"Michael, what did you and Brown talk about after the game?"

That's it?

Jordan raised an eyebrow slightly. "Aren't you all self-proclaimed uncrowned kings, sharp-tongued and quick-witted? Is this all you've got? Not enough firepower."

"We chatted briefly, he thanked me, I accepted it, and then praised him for his great performance today."

Jordan finished his answer crisply and then gestured for the next person.

Another reporter immediately asked, "Michael, what did Brown write on your greeting card?"

Jordan chuckled inwardly, thinking, "Just what I was waiting for."

He took out the greeting card and said, "To be honest, I haven't had a chance to look at it yet because I want to share it with everyone."

As he spoke, he unfolded the greeting card and began to read it aloud.

“Dear Michael Jordan”

"I come from a small town called Brunswick. I am a mother of eight. We used to live a very difficult life. Basketball changed our lives."

Jordan remembered that the Browns' family was very poor. He paused slightly, then continued reading.

"Especially Kwame, he liked you when he was very young. He had your poster on his bedside. Once, after winning a game, he proudly told me that when he grew up, he wanted to play like you, go to the NBA, and work hard to become the best basketball player on the planet."

Jordan inwardly scoffed. "The same as me? He doesn't deserve it!"
"Fortunately, he succeeded. You chose him and helped him realize his dream, so our whole family, like him, is full of gratitude to you."

Wishing you good health, a happy life, and a blissful marriage.

Joyce Brown.

It's not long, and it doesn't have many fancy words.

But it's sincere enough!
The reporters in the audience exchanged glances and began to applaud.

Jordan's eye twitched violently.

Fuck, now it's not just one Brown thanking himself, it's a whole nine, a whole family!

No sooner had this thought crossed my mind than a damn reporter shouted, "Michael, how did you feel after reading the greeting card? Were you moved?"

Moving?

Jordan resisted the urge to flip the table and leave; I was so incredibly moved.

"Of course, like I said, he's a hardworking and good kid."

Jordan silently endured and dealt with the various problems.

It was basically a thank-you party; he thanked me, and I praised him.

When he decided to trade Brown in the summer, he still praised him despite his own rudeness. Now, he's nothing!
The only thing that silenced Jordan was that dunk over him.

This is a dunk that was supposed to be one of the top ten of the year, but which the media keeps bringing up and criticizing.

So even though he had mentally prepared himself, when Jordan actually stepped out of the press conference room, he didn't feel relieved at all; instead, he felt even more depressed.

He thought of someone.

Tang Sen!

We have to win at least one game today.

"John." Jordan waved to his bodyguard, telling him to hurry up and find Tang Sen, tell him that he was in a good mood and wanted to play a match for him at the Verizon Center, where he would be waiting.

Wozniak actually meant to say, "Don't you have his number? Give him a call."

Knowing that the boss was in a bad mood today, I didn't dare to say much and hurried away.

Jordan actually waited.

The game started early, at 6:30, and ended before 9:00. Players left one after another, and by 10:00 the stadium was empty.

Jordan warmed up methodically, accompanied by Grover.

He had already planned it all out; this time, the game couldn't be decided by a single goal.

I'll take on ten of them myself!

The best thing to do is to shave Tang Sen's head completely bald and vent his anger.

And this wait lasted for almost an hour.

It wasn't until almost 11 p.m. that Wozniak appeared, looking troubled, and said, "Boss, we found him, but... he said it's inconvenient for him to come over."

Jordan was stunned.

You went back on your word, didn't you? Didn't you say you'd play a match against yourself after the game?

"Why is it inconvenient?" Jordan asked in a deep voice.

Wozniak glanced at Grover with a pleading look before stammering, "It seems the Magic have decided to fly back to Orlando at the last minute, so he has to catch his flight right away."

"Then he said that he drank alcohol to celebrate with Brown, and got drunk, so he wasn't at his best, and that even if you won, you wouldn't be happy in that condition."

Jordan held the basketball, stood still for a full five seconds, and then suddenly slammed the ball hard into the stands.

Go to hell!

I've been waiting for you here for ages, and you're celebrating that brat beating me?
Grover glared at Wozniak speechlessly as Jordan walked angrily into the player tunnel.

This guy is too honest; he just had to say that last part, didn't he?

Shaking his head and sighing, Grover quickly followed.

The competition has just ended; tomorrow's newspapers will be full of excitement.

(End of this chapter)