Basketball trainer, I created a super giant

Chapter 237 First Time Attending a Post-Match Press Conference

Confidence is a wonderful thing.

When it is powerful, even ordinary people can shine brightly.

With 37 seconds left and trailing by one point, the outcome hinged on a single moment.

Carlisle anticipated that the Bulls would let Jalen Rose play, but he didn't make any specific plans to counter it.

He simply let Harvey and his team do as they pleased.

He believed they could defend and he believed they could win the game.

His trust was rewarded.

The Bulls held back on the clock, and with five seconds left, they did pass the ball to Jalen Rose, who had cut inside.

Xavi seemed to be switching on defense, and he made a quick save.

But Jalen Rose was faster; the moment he caught the ball, he didn't even adjust before pulling up and throwing it.

I also added some backward leaning.

At a crucial moment, this near-All-Star, who had just reached the peak of his career, proved himself.

Two points were scored, and the Bulls turned the tide.

The scene was deathly silent, but then a huge cheer erupted.

High up, DJ Ray Castordi's fingers flew across the keyboard, making the battle song incredibly stirring.

The Knicks did not call a timeout.

12 seconds, plenty of time.

Tang Sen and everyone else stood up and glanced at Carlisle.

This guy is something else. If I were in his position, I'm not sure I'd have the confidence to make such a decision.

Even if it's just a regular season game.

But... who cares?

If you lose, you lose.

Seeing fringe players like Xavi put on such a performance on the field fills Tang Sen with nothing but pride and joy.

These are all players I trained myself.

12 seconds behind.

The five players on the field showed no sign of panic.

They came back from a 15-point deficit to reverse the score, even after the opponent brought in their starters.

Having accomplished something so difficult, being one point behind is nothing.

They didn't even call a timeout.

Jones stood at a high position, pressing the clock down second by second.

Jay Williams was standing in front of me.

He couldn't help but get nervous; he was a rookie too.

He knew this shot was crucial, and he wasn't sure whether Jones would shoot himself or pass the ball.

Second by second, it was agonizingly slow.

Just then, with three seconds left, Jones finally made a move.

He looked to the left and gestured to pass the ball.

With his mind highly focused, Jay Williams instinctively moved to his right.

Jones then withdrew his shot and threw it directly.

In the decisive shot, there was no call for a screen, a one-on-one duel, and pressure on the shot clock. Instead of a two-pointer, he opted for a more difficult three-pointer.

That's incredibly bold!
But the ball went in!

The timer has reached zero, a decisive goal.

Tang Sen had no idea what Jones was thinking at that moment.

He scored, then turned around and, amidst the volcanic eruption of cheers from the entire stadium, raised his arms high, letting his teammates excitedly rush towards him.

He held it up like that, from two arms to one arm.

The cheers around me were so loud they seemed to lift the ceiling off.

Bright lights overhead made everything seem like a dream.

Jones had dreamed of similar scenes countless times.

On this very court, in this tense game, amidst the anticipation of all the spectators, I, an unknown individual, stepped up, sank the game-winning shot, and rewrote the game.

He dreams of becoming a hero.

In the MSG studio, Brin let out a high-pitched scream.

Frazier, standing beside him, clutched his heart and kept repeating "my god."

His heart was so excited it felt like it was going to stop beating.

After a scream, Brin yelled at the camera, "Tell me, do you know who they are?"

“No one knows!”

“Then I’ll tell you, his name is Donil Harvey, his name is Fred Jones, and his name is Caderick Brown.”

"They have names, but nobody knows them because they never even get a chance to appear on screen."

"When they were substituted on, the game had already entered garbage time. Nobody was counting on them; their job was just to run out the game time."

"But they didn't give up, they didn't!"

Brin's voice was high-pitched, and his shouts even cracked a little.

"Six minutes in, down by 15 points, they turned the game around and won. It's nothing short of a miracle."

"That's right, it's a miracle!"

"This is New York, a place that needs miracles, and today, a miracle has happened."

"God, I'm so excited, they're amazing."

In the footage, the Knicks are seen hugging each other, celebrating excitedly.

In stark contrast were the dejected Bulls players.

Frazier's heart had calmed down, and he exclaimed, "I don't know what Spike said to Ruttell, and I don't want to know, but whatever he said, I think he made no mistake."

"Don't tell me that trading him away was the stupidest decision you could make."

"Choosing to trade you is the best decision I could make."

Frazier began firing back, line by line.

He loves the Knicks and would never allow Sprewell to slander the team like that.

The Knicks did nothing wrong to you!
"Knicks fans aren't like those girls haggling over prices in motels. They're even better than you, you scumbag. At least if you tip them, they know to say thank you."

"And the championship, Latrell, just you wait, we'll win the championship, just like I said."

With players who work this hard, why shouldn't the Knicks win a championship?

Mike Breen, standing next to him, nodded vigorously in agreement.

"That's right, just wait, we'll win the championship."

His voice, broadcast on television, reached every household in New York.

……

Cartwright walked through the players' tunnel entrance with a dark expression.

There was a barrage of insults from both sides.

The more arrogant Sprewell was before, the louder the Knicks fans are now cursing him.

Cartwright only urged everyone to hurry up and leave.

Entering the players' tunnel, I finally managed to leave those insults behind.

Just then, the sound of arguing came from ahead.

Cartwright's expression changed; it sounded like Sprewell's voice.

I ran a few steps quickly, and sure enough.

Right at the locker room door, Sprewell grabbed Jalen Ross, spitting as he yelled at him, "Fuck, shit, what the hell are you guys doing?!"

"16 points! We were leading by a full 16 points, and you still lost! How could you be so useless!"

He questioned the players in a fit of anger, speaking without thinking and insulting them all.

Jalen Rose couldn't hold back any longer and stepped forward, saying fiercely, "So what did you do this time, fight?"

If you hadn't fought that battle, they wouldn't have had to be brought in as substitutes.

Sprewell, brimming with confidence, declared with wide eyes, "I got 43 points!"

Rose clenched his fist instantly.

Damn it, this conversation is impossible. They scored 43 points and still lost. They have to take the blame for this.

And even the excuse that the opponent is too strong is not allowed.

They only field fringe players, the benchwarmers, while the starters are all sitting comfortably on the sidelines.

"enough!"

Cartwright intervened and sternly stopped the two of them.

If you want to argue, at least go back to the locker room, close the door, and argue however you want.

Making noise in the players' tunnel, do they really think the security guards are deaf?

He dragged Rose into the locker room.

I didn't dare pull Sprewell.

If he were to stab himself in the neck in his rage, he would be utterly ashamed to remain on the Bulls' turkey.

Sprewell cursed, walked into the locker room, and kicked over a chair.

No one paid attention to him.

Cartwright didn't want to pay him any attention either. In his revenge game, he launched a furious attack on the Knicks in front of so many reporters before the game.

One game with 39 points, the other with 43 points—if we win both, that would be the perfect revenge.

It all fell through, so it's understandable that he's angry.

I hate Cartwright just as much.

Leading by 16 points, and then losing in just six minutes—how could they have lost?

In the end, he was killed in a decisive battle.

Jones's shot was so powerful, it was as if Jordan had possessed him.

Assistant coach Bill Berry came over and asked who he was taking to the post-game press conference.

Cartwright sighed.

We've already lost the game, and we've also lost half of our integrity. We really can't afford to lose the other half.

He called Jalen Rose and they walked out of the locker room.

Sprewell dared not call; if he went, he might get into a fight with the reporters on site.

The New York reporters were waiting for him.

Before the first game, Sprewell made some outrageous remarks.

He did the same thing before the game today, giving New York reporters a real tongue-lashing.

When Sprewell scored a whopping 43 points and the game entered garbage time, all the reporters were extremely frustrated.

They could all imagine how arrogant Sprewell would be after the match.

Who knew that the emergence of Xavi and several other role players would lead to a miraculous comeback in the game?

You could say that Harvey and his teammates saved the Knicks' reputation.

Now, we must make amends for the embarrassment we suffered before.

The New York Post's accompanying reporter stood up, and the first question nearly gave Cartwright a heart attack.

He asked Cartwright what considerations led him to bring the team's starters back into the game when the gap was narrowed to only 7 points.

Cartwright finally understood why Sprewell had grabbed her by the neck when she was desperate.

At that moment, he also wanted to jump off the stage and grab the reporter by the neck: Ask again, ask again!

Silently telling himself not to get angry, Cartwright knew he couldn't avoid this today, and gritted his teeth to save face: "Because this is a game, I'm the head coach, I want to win the game, it's that simple."

If we don't talk about this, what else can we say?

Did they not expect the opponent to be so good at watching the water dispenser, and that they had to switch to their main player to win?

As it turned out, even with the main players on the field, they still couldn't win. Wouldn't that be even more embarrassing?

This answer clearly dissatisfied the reporters in the audience.

A reporter immediately stood up and poked Cartwright in the back, asking, "Weren't you guys very arrogant before the game, shouting that you wanted to get revenge on the Knicks, saying that the Knicks were all trash and that New York fans were all unsatisfied bitches?"

So, who won?
And they even lost to our fringe players, none of whom played their starters.

So who is the real loser now?

Cartwright, already seething with anger, wasn't one to let things slide; he was seething with rage.

"You won, we lost, it's that simple."

Cartwright uttered a single sentence and then got up and left the press conference.

Anyway, I came according to the rules.

The reporters exchanged bewildered glances, not expecting Cartwright to lose her temper so quickly.

Another reporter glared at the reporter who asked the question with dissatisfaction.

Could you at least ask me in a gentler way?

Now look what's happened, the popularity has vanished, and we haven't even asked about it yet.

Compared to the tense atmosphere on the Bulls' side, the Knicks' post-game press conference was more like a victory celebration.

The league does not stipulate how many players a head coach can bring to the post-game press conference.

Carlisle didn't bring Yao Ming or Houston, but he brought Harvey, Jones, and Brown along.

As soon as the three sat down, the New York reporters present began to applaud.

Then it infected everyone, and they were all applauding.

A 16-point comeback is not a particularly dramatic comeback in the long history of the NBA.

But this comeback came from those fringe players who spent most of their time on the bench and were always on the sidelines.

A comeback is a miracle, but such a comeback is a miracle within a miracle.

Especially when the opponent brings back their main force.

Harvey listened to the applause with a sense of flattery and excitement.

Feel?

When asked by a reporter how it felt to grab 7 rebounds in less than 6 minutes, including 4 offensive rebounds, Harvey instinctively said "great."

A howl.

But he was too close to the microphone.

He was startled, hurriedly adjusted the microphone, and then said awkwardly, "Sorry, this is my first time at a post-match press conference."

This is my first time sitting here in my third year as a professional.

The reporters who asked questions in the audience were stunned for a moment, then immediately began to applaud.

Harvey quickly gestured that there was no need to applaud, and said nothing.

After the reporters quieted down and he looked at the pairs of eyes staring at him, Harvey thought for a moment and said, "It feels great, of course, and I'd like to especially thank Tang."

"He made me realize that hard work really pays off."

"So I will continue to work hard."

Harvey clearly lacked experience, and his answer was quite simple.

But it's sincere enough.

Hard work really pays off; that one sentence sums it all up.

The reporter who asked the question began to applaud again.

(End of this chapter)