Once all the players on top of him had gotten up, Wang Yi slowly stood and rubbed his aching head and arms.
He turned and saw Rose, then hurried over and embraced him.
"Buddy, congratulations!"
Wang Yi said.
Though Rose was exhausted, with pale lips and a drained face, his chest heaving violently, he was still holding Wang Yi tightly, overcome with emotion.
"Thank you, thank you!"
He didn't say exactly what he was thanking him for, but they both knew.
Without Wang Yi, the Kings wouldn't have made the Playoffs this year.
Without Wang Yi, the Kings never would have reached the Finals, let alone won the championship.
And if Wang Yi's final shot had missed, the Kings would most likely have lost their chance at this year's title.
Wang Yi shook his head. "No, buddy. Without you, we wouldn't even have made it to overtime. I'm the one who should be thanking you!"
As Wang Yi and Rose embraced, James, Paul, Wade, and Anthony—the Four Dust Brothers—rushed onto the court.
Once Wang Yi and Rose had let go, they embraced Wang Yi too.
James shook his head repeatedly, making a face. "Oh, unbelievable! Incredible! You've worked another miracle, you crazy guy!"
Wade laughed and shook his head too. "This guy always manages to pull off miracles that leave everyone dumbfounded. With a Kings team like this, just making the Playoffs would've worn everyone else out. But he didn't just make the Playoffs—he reached the Finals, and then went and won it all! He's gone beyond greatness!"
Anthony and Paul had both been teammates with Wang Yi, so they knew exactly what Wade meant.
"Just give this guy four people—even if they're all Shaquille O'Neal's grandmothers—and he'll lead them to a championship!"
Shaquille O'Neal, who was nearby, walked over.