The moment Wang Yi stood up, everyone in Staples Center rose to their feet and applauded.
Nobody laughed at him.
All they felt for Wang Yi was moved admiration and respect.
Even the opposing head coach and several players couldn't help sighing to themselves.
"That guy's not even human."
He hadn't played basketball in more than two years, yet he'd suddenly come to the NBA and played like this.
If that wasn't inhuman, what was?
Wang Yi stood up and slowly stretched his legs.
Then he turned to look at the masseuse who had just worked on him.
"You're Chinese?"
The masseuse nodded. "Yeah."
Wang Yi nodded. "You've got great technique."
The masseuse had been nervous. He'd only been hired a month ago, and this was his first time giving a superstar like Wang Yi a massage. Of course he'd been anxious.
Hearing Wang Yi praise him made him incredibly excited. More than anything, it gave his confidence a huge boost.
"Thanks, Brother Yi."
As they spoke, the referee urged both teams back onto the court.
After a brief stretch, Wang Yi felt he could move his legs freely again.
He was still nowhere near his peak, and his legs felt weak, but he could at least grit his teeth and run.
The Rockets had the ball.
At this point in the game, their head coach, Silas, had told them to keep their passing to a minimum.
Fewer passes meant fewer turnovers.
And they would rely on their stars for these final possessions.
David Mason and Jalen Green could handle those isolation plays.
The Kings, on the other hand, had almost nobody who could take on that kind of responsibility besides Wang Yi, who was already hobbling.
So Silas thought they had a great chance of winning.
David Mason and