After the game, while Wang Yi was being taken for a drug test, the Raptors' substitutes left the locker room with dark expressions.
They all headed to a nightclub.
Inside, the club was a riot of flashing lights, music, and dancing.
But the Raptors' substitutes were all in foul moods.
Their plan that night didn't seem to be working very well, and now even the drinks in their glasses tasted bad, while the women beside them held little appeal.
They sat in silence for a long time amid the pounding music.
Some drank one glass of liquor after another.
Others smoked one cigarette after another.
At last, Charlie Hannum spoke up. "Damn it, that guy's a freaking alien monster. He still managed to win!"
George Shig ground out the cigarette in his mouth in the ashtray. He did it with such force that it was as if he were crushing Wang Yi instead of the cigarette.
Then he tipped back two gulps of liquor and cursed furiously:
"That damn Asian guy—how the hell is he so lucky? He steals the ball on the final play and then just happens to make the shot. Damn it, is the Lucky Goddess sleeping with that kid or something?"
The other substitutes joined in, each cursing in their own way.
A while later, Gates, who had been silent until then, finally spoke:
"Did you see? Even though Wang Yi scored more than 90 points tonight, they only beat the Timberwolves by two. What does that tell us? It tells us they'll struggle badly without us substitutes. It means our plan has worked at least halfway."
The other players heard him and finally stopped cursing.
George Shig asked, "So you mean..."
Gates took a sip of liquor and spoke unhurriedly:
"We stick to our plan.