"You can put any conditions you want on a shot: five guys double-teaming you, getting hacked hard, a sideways hook shot from the backcourt, making 20 threes in a row... You can add all kinds of difficult extra conditions before the shot. Under those conditions, it's hard for us ordinary humans to make it. But this guy isn't human at all. He completely defies the laws of physics."
Curry nodded with a wry smile. "Yeah, yeah, you're right about everything."
He wasn't being sarcastic. He genuinely felt helpless in the face of Wang Yi scoring in all kinds of unbelievable, mind-boggling ways.
Meanwhile, back in China,
when Xu Jingyu saw Wang Yi sink an absurdly long three after getting hacked so badly, he went wild.
His left hand smacked the computer desk.
At the same time, his voice rose two octaves. He shouted with tremendous swagger, "Let the haters speak!"
Chinese fans went wild too, following Xu Jingyu and flooding the comments with four characters:
"Let the haters speak!"
"Let the haters speak!"
"Let the haters speak!"
Xu Jingyu was still raring to go, his eyes shining and his face glowing.
"When I say 'let the haters speak,' I don't just mean the ones who hate Brother Yi. I mean the haters of traditional Chinese medicine too."
"What about all those haters who said Brother Yi wouldn't be able to play like before, even if he made it onto the court? Speak up! Take a walk, come on out and take a walk!"
"Why so quiet?"
"Is he good or what? I'm asking you, is he good or what?"
"Is Brother Yi good or not? Is traditional Chinese medicine good or not?"
By now, the comments had fallen silent. The people who hated Wang Yi and those who hated