The NBA's Absolute Dominance

Chapter 88 The conflict finally erupted

When the Knicks players and coaching staff saw the basket Tang Bei was carrying, when they saw Ewing suffering the humiliation of being groped, and when they saw so many fans cheering for the visiting team, their faces turned extremely grim, and their morale plummeted at a visible speed.

Head coach Pat Riley shook his head helplessly. Even with Oakley using his elbow, the two-on-one defense was still shattered, the rim was even torn off. In this situation, even he was helpless. Today's game was in jeopardy.

Many celebrities stood up in surprise and applauded with the fans in the front row.

Strong people are always respectable. Even if these stars and fans are Knicks fans, they have to admire Tang Bei at this moment.

"Hoo ho..."

Under the basket, Tang Bei, panting, moved his feet, stepped over Ewing, and raised the basket he was holding high towards the media section behind the baseline.

On his forehead, his left temple was covered in blood, a piece of skin the size of a thumb was peeled off, and blood flowed down his left brow bone to the outer corner of his eye.

A trickle of blood flowed from the outer corner of his eye onto his face, giving his chiseled features not only a sharp and rugged air but also a particularly iron-blooded and tough look.

"WOW!"

As he raised the basket, the cheers at Madison Square Garden suddenly rose.

"Crack, click, click..."

At that moment, all the media reporters frantically pressed their shutters, and behind the baseline, there was a blinding barrage of flashes.

"My God! He knocked over the dominant center Ewing, then smashed the rim, Tang smashed the Knicks' rim..."

"His terrifying low-post scoring ability allowed him to blow up the rim against Ewing and Oakley despite being double-teamed. He was destroying the Knicks' morale."

"Ewing is now just a background character, haha! Tang is making his promise to destroy the super center Patrick Ewing, and at Madison Square Garden."

Once they realized what was happening, the three commentators in the NBC live broadcast studio started excitedly shouting nonstop.

NBC was replaying the offensive and defensive moments on a screen hanging above the stadium. The footage of Oakley elbowing Tang Bei was being replayed repeatedly, and several cameras were switched to replay it from different angles.

Finally, NBC's camera focused on Tang Bei's face, giving him a series of close-ups, with particular emphasis on the torn scalp on his left temple.

"It's certain that Oakley elbowed someone, but the referee didn't see it. I don't know if there will be any further penalties," said Maffeo Albert.

Behind Tang Bei, Oakley pulled Ewing up from the floor, staring fiercely at the raised basketball hoop, his teeth almost grinding to powder, his eyes growing increasingly red.

After celebrating briefly with Glen Rice and others, Tang Bei was about to return to the bench when he was blocked by Oakley, Ewing, and others.

In a flash, Glenn Rice and the others rushed over and surrounded Tang Bei.

"sit down!"

"Everyone sit down!"

On both benches, all the players stood up, and the coaches of both teams immediately reprimanded them.

"Boy, hand it over."

Charles Oakley glanced at the basketball hoop in his hand and gritted his teeth.

“Oh, what are they trying to do? Steal Tang’s spoils?” Bill Russell exclaimed in surprise in the NBC live studio.

Tang Bei shook the basketball hoop in his hand and said expressionlessly, "Two options: First, if you're capable, tear our hoop down. Second, if you're brave enough, take it now."

"you?"

Oakley was so angry that his nose almost bled, and Ewing and the others were also furious.

Mason Jr. roared, "Kid, give it to me!"

Tang Bei poked the other man's muscular chest with the basketball hoop and said in a disdainful tone, "What are you waiting for? To have your eighty-year-old grandma come and help you snatch it?"

"Fuck you!"

Mason was so angry his face turned green. He cursed and grabbed the rim with both hands to start fighting for the ball, yelling at Oakley, "Boss, go!"

Tang Bei grabbed the basket with his right hand, and even the muscular Mason couldn't snatch it away from him due to his terrifying absolute strength.

"you wanna die!"

Oakley finally lost his temper. Encouraged by Mason, he roared and threw a punch.

“Oh, Oakley has made his move!” exclaimed Muff Albert.

Tang Bei took a step back, dodging the attack, which caused Mason, who was trying to grab the basket, to lunge forward.

With a swift left hand grab, he initiated a grappling technique, seizing Oakley's right wrist and instantly hooking his wrist with his five fingers.

Oakley's expression changed, because his right hand was numb and painful, the pain piercing to the bone.

The next moment, Tang Bei took another step back and activated his joint lock.

He pressed down on Oakley's arm with his left forearm and pushed down hard. Oakley's right elbow instantly felt a sharp pain, and he cried out and knelt down.

"Huh, did Oakley kneel down?"

Bill Russell said with a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Charles?"

"on!"

"Teach them a lesson."

When Ewing and the others saw Oakley getting the short end of the stick, they charged forward amidst shouts of anger.

At this moment, Glen Rice and other Heat players rushed forward, blocking Ewing and his team, and a chaotic battle immediately ensued.

"Don't move! You can't enter."

"Sit down! Everyone sit down!"

The players on both benches suddenly stood up, but the coaches quickly blocked them from entering the field.

John Liu, in a panic, shouted in Mandarin from the sidelines, "Tang, protect yourself, but don't go too far. Just teach them a lesson."

“This is going to be a big fight,” said Albert the coachman, quite excitedly.

"Beep beep..."

The referee kept blowing his whistle, and at the same time, a team of security guards rushed out of the players' tunnel.

"You dare to elbow me? Go to hell!"

Tang Bei kicked Oakley to the ground, striking him squarely in the forehead. Blood immediately splattered from Oakley's forehead.

After dealing with Oakley, he grabbed the rim with both hands and spun it around, instantly trapping Mason's hands in the rim.

"Ouch!"

Mason was in pain and had to let go of the basket.

"Oh!"

Tang Bei raised his leg and delivered a powerful front kick, sending Anthony Mason flying three meters. Mason crashed into the stands like a bowling ball.

"God, Oakley was the one who hit me, why did he hit me?" Little Mason, who was almost kicked to death, felt like he wanted to die.

"Oh!"

The entire Madison Square Garden was in an uproar upon seeing this.

"Shet!"

"Anthony is finished!"

"How is the boss?"

Seeing the fate of Oakley and Mason Jr., Ewing and the others were immediately frightened and stopped fighting.

"Take this, you all step back, I'll take care of them by myself."

Tang Bei shoved the basket into Glen Rice's hands and was about to attack Ewing and the others when Oakley, covered in blood, charged over fearlessly again.

"asshole!"

Oakley not only failed to gain any advantage but also knelt before Tang Bei and got kicked. He had never suffered such a loss in the NBA.

Enraged, as the strongest fighter in the New York gang, he charged forward with a double punch, first using a jab to draw the defense, then throwing a back hook at Tang Bei's chin.

Tang Bei dodged and leaned back repeatedly, causing his opponent's double attack to miss completely.

In the next instant, he slid forward and quickly closed in on Oakley, depriving his opponent of space to punch. At the same time, he grabbed Oakley's right arm with his left hand and hugged his waist with his right hand. As if shaking a large vat, he twisted his body with tremendous force and delivered a vicious waist and back throw.

"Oh!"

Oakley was uprooted, tumbled half a circle in the air, and then slammed solidly onto the floor, which bounced more than once with the sound of impact.

At that moment, Oakley felt as if his thoughts and time had completely stopped.

His head was surrounded by twinkling stars, his ears were filled with a buzzing sound, his bones felt like they were falling apart, his thoracic vertebrae ached faintly, his internal organs throbbed with pain, and he even felt the urge to urinate.

"Oh!"

A gasp rippled through Madison Square Garden. Ewing, Rivers, and John Starks stared in disbelief at Oakley lying on the floor, utterly unable to comprehend how their most formidable and ruthless locker room leader could have fallen again.

"That's it?"

Tang Bei looked at Oakley, feeling extremely disappointed.

What a piece of trash! His fighting ability is not even as good as Larry Johnson's, let alone the wild boar he killed back home. He was dead before he even had his fill.

If Oakley were sober at this moment, he would definitely feel wronged. It was clearly you who lacked sportsmanship. I used punches, but you used your feet and wrestling. How was I supposed to fight back?
“God! I hope Oakley and Mason are still alive.” Bill Walton made the sign of the cross.

"Don knocked out Mason with one kick, and then subdued Oakley with a single scrimmage," said Albert, beaming.

Bill Russell exclaimed in surprise, "Don is really good at fighting. He even defeated Barkley with a single shot."

From Mason grabbing the basket to Oakley being thrown down, the conflict itself was very short, lasting less than twenty seconds. The actual fight itself only lasted a few seconds.

Security personnel rushed onto the field and brought the situation under control. The players from both sides were quickly separated, and Mason and Oakley were helped off the field and handed over to the team doctor for examination.

Little Mason was alright; although he was kicked several meters away, his muscles were covered in knots, and he was almost recovered after a while.

Two thumb-sized pieces of skin were torn off Oakley's right forehead by Tang Bei's kick, and like Tang Bei, he needed stitches.

Tang Bei was only holding back because the kick grazed Oakley's head; if it had landed, it could have broken his neck and smashed Oakley's head.

Compared to these external injuries, Oakley's more serious problem was that his body was also smashed, leaving him limp and powerless, like a disjointed snake.

This was Tang Bei's waist-grabbing and back-throwing technique. The height from the waist to the floor is limited, and the court floor has a structural cushioning design, so the injury is not very serious.

If it were an over-the-shoulder throw, the force would be even greater, and since Oakley didn't understand break-through techniques, he could very well have been killed by the fall.

The referee quickly made his decision.

For the Knicks, Mason, Oakley, Ewing, John Starks, and Doc Rivers all got involved in the altercation and were ejected.

On the Heat's side, Tang Bei, Glen Rice, and three others were also ejected. Only Bimbokors was knocked down by Rivers' punch before he could even make a move and escaped punishment.

"Do you want to continue?"

In the player tunnel, facing a four-on-five situation, Tang Bei stood in front of Ewing and the others and sincerely asked.

"Hey, don't mess around!"

The security team that followed them in quickly pushed Tang Bei aside and protected Ewing and the others.

The Knicks' team doctor rushed over and shouted, "You can't play anymore! Oakley has probably fractured two of his thoracic vertebrae. Playing any more will kill him."

"Tang, we really can't fight anymore, or we'll be in big trouble." John Liu quickly went over and pulled Tang Bei away.

"You bastard!"

Oakley was still dazed, his whole body was broken from the fall. Even though his bones weren't broken, he was unable to fight back. Faced with Tang Bei's provocation, he could only swallow his anger and suffer in silence.

Little Mason, still reeling from the powerful kick, urged, "Boss, I can't take it anymore, you go, you can do it."

Upon hearing this, Oakley's face twitched three times. "Are you deaf? I have two broken bones, and you still want me to go?"
Enraged, he turned and left, not wanting to pay any more attention to that scoundrel, Little Mason.

The remaining three, including Ewing, dared not respond. They pretended not to hear and hurriedly headed towards the locker room under the protection of security.

Disappointed, Tang Bei shouted from behind, "Hey, you're not going to fight five against one? Or should I just use one hand? Look, my left hand is in my pocket."

"Shet!"

"This bastard!"

Ewing and his five teammates were so angry they were about to vomit blood.

Little Mason turned around and shouted, "Don, don't be so arrogant. Once my boss recovers from his injury, he'll definitely teach you a lesson."

"Idiot, hurry up and keep up!"

Oakley's roar rang out from ahead, startling Mason.

Tang Bei looked at Glen Rice and the other two with a disappointed expression and said, "This is the New York gang that strikes fear into the hearts of the entire league?"

"Don, are you a professional wrestler or a professional boxer?" Glenn Rice asked excitedly.

"No, no, I'm not at that level yet. I can only beat a few weaklings," Tang Bei said modestly.

John Liu, holding the basketball hoop that Tang Bei had stolen, said excitedly, "Tang, when you become a big star, take this thing to auction off. It should fetch a lot of money."

"Really?"

Tang Bei was immediately delighted that this thing could be sold for money.

"Hurry up, Tang, you need stitches," team doctor Grú Wilsky urged.

In this game, the Heat, playing back-to-back away games, ultimately won. The Knicks' morale was completely shattered by Tang Bei, and they suffered a crushing defeat.

The Heat have an 8-13 record, improving their winning percentage to 38.1%, but they are still third from the bottom in the Eastern Conference.

Tang Bei became famous overnight. The notorious villain Oakley was like a chick in front of him, the belligerent Mason was no match for him, and Ewing dared not lay a hand on him. With the media's publicity, his violent image was truly deeply rooted in people's hearts.

His shot that blasted the Knicks' basket was also selected as one of the top ten plays of the day, and it was the number one play, making him the star of the show.

The influence of New York and Madison Square Garden is enormous; the impact and attention garnered by this one match and goal is comparable to the influence and attention he has received before.

With the support of the Heat, many media outlets in Miami seized this opportunity to increase their publicity for Tang Bei, boosting his popularity for the upcoming All-Star voting.

"Tang, is your head injury alright?"

"It's nothing, just a few stitches."

On the 20th, at seven in the morning, Eric Fleischer called and, after chatting for a while, said:

"Tang, WWF contacted me late last night. They're inviting you to their Summer Fever. Are you interested?"

"What is WWF? Is Summer Fever a surfing event?" Tang Bei asked.

Eric Fleischer explained, "WWF is one of the three major professional wrestling leagues in the United States. It has the Royal Rumble in January, SummerSlam in August, and Survivor Series in November, which are very popular."

"Oh, it's a professional wrestling match. How much money can I get?" Tang Bei asked immediately, showing great interest.

Eric Fleischer considered, "Don, you're not a star yet. They're not offering much money, only $5 per game. I don't recommend agreeing to their offer now; it's not worth it."

"5?"

Tang Bei really wanted to agree to the offer of a chance to fight and money.

But then I thought about it again. He had practiced too many sports, and wrestling was not his main sport. He was a jack-of-all-trades but master of none, and he had no real combat experience. He probably wouldn't have much of a chance of winning against those excellent professional wrestlers.

He wants to fight, but only if he has a high chance of winning. If he loses more often than he wins, he loses interest.

Eric Fleischer continued, "The Heat are promoting you now, and statistically, Ewing and O'Neal's numbers aren't as good as yours, so the All-Star voting should be more favorable for you."

If you can become the starting center for the Eastern Conference All-Star team, your value will skyrocket, and it won't just be a mere $5 appearance fee anymore.

"Okay, we'll decide later," Tang Bei said.

At 10 a.m., the NBA announced the additional penalties.

At that time, the NBA had not yet subdivided flagrant fouls into Level 1 and Level 2, nor did it have a five-point system or a clear suspension and penalty mechanism.

After discussion, the authorities decided to impose an additional one-game suspension and a $3,000 fine on Oakley, who initiated the conflict.

Then, Oakley's elbowing of Tang Bei will be considered an additional malicious foul, resulting in a one-game suspension and a $1,000 fine.

As for Ewing, Don Bei, Mason, and other players from both sides, there were no additional penalties or fines.

In other words, Tang Bei can participate in the next away game.

After lunch, the Heat boarded their private jet and flew to Chicago.

At 5 p.m. that afternoon, at the Chicago Bulls' training facility, a group of Bulls players were training hard, sweating profusely.

Actually, the team didn't have a practice scheduled for today, but Jordan set an example, and under his leadership, the Bulls players were forced to practice along with him. More than one teammate was cursing him in his heart.

"Michael, what are your thoughts on the conflict at Madison Square Garden last night?"

During Jordan's break, an ESPN reporter went over with a camera to interview him.

Jordan wiped his sweat, took a sip of water, and then said, "Sorry, I'm not a party to this, so I have no opinion."

The reporter then pressed further, "Michael, Ewing and Oakley are both your friends. Oakley even broke two of his thoracic vertebrae and will be out for at least three months. They were humiliated by Don. Don't you have any opinion on that?"

Jordan smiled and said, "My usual approach is to resolve things on the court through basketball, not through fighting."

After thinking for a moment, he added, "We are basketball players, not boxers or wrestlers. We are playing basketball, not street fighting."

The reporter quickly followed up with, "Michael, the Bulls will be playing the Heat tomorrow night. Do you think there's a possibility of an on-court brawl?"

Jordan shrugged helplessly and said, "My team has no history of on-court conflicts with other teams."

"From a personal perspective, what is your opinion of Tang?" the reporter asked.

Jordan paused for a few seconds before saying, "If those two call me and say, 'Hey Michael, help us teach that rookie a lesson tomorrow night,' haha, I think I'd be happy to, by scoring, haha!"

(End of this chapter)