Pang Bo weighed 260 pounds, and every dunk shook the earth with its force, as if he could uproot mountains and dominate the world.
Xu Jingyu wasn't all that excited watching this.
He shook his head and sighed. "The Lakers really don't know how to treat people. Yi just got back—what would it have hurt to let him take a couple shots? But no, you immediately double-teamed him off the ball. What kind of madness is that?"
The fans were pretty unhappy, too.
"Redick, do you even want to stay in the league? Everyone wants to watch Brother Yi play, and you come out and immediately double-team him off the ball. If you don't want to coach, just say so."
"An off-ball double-team? Does Brother Yi really deserve that kind of treatment?"
"Let Brother Yi have the ball! Let Brother Yi have the ball!"
Wang Yi wasn't worried that he hadn't gotten the ball on the first possession.
LaMelo Ball, who was guarding him, ran his mouth at him. "See that, old-timer? You missed 20 games, and the team's practically forgotten you. You're supposed to be the team's star, but you can't even touch the ball on offense. Why'd you even come back? If I were you, I'd retire on the spot."
LaMelo was wearing a microphone today, so he deliberately said all that.
Once they played the audio after the game, it would be another great chance to draw attention.
Wang Yi smiled calmly and made an OK sign with his right hand.
LaMelo understood the gesture immediately.
Wang Yi didn't mean "OK" by it. He meant zero.
The last time the two of them had faced each other had been... well, the last time.
Back then, LaMelo was still with the Hornets. He'd provoked Wang Yi several times,