On the sideline, Spo stared intently at the basketball.
If his eyes could shoot lasers like Superman, he would absolutely have blasted the ball to pieces.
But he wasn't Superman, and he couldn't shoot lasers from his eyes.
The ball continued sailing steadily forward.
Then, with a swish,
it dropped cleanly through the net!
60 points, achieved!
25,000 career points, achieved!!
A 60-point, 20-rebound, 20-assist triple-double, achieved!!!
And at that moment,
Spo felt his legs go limp. He nearly collapsed onto the floor.
An assistant coach quickly caught him and helped him sit on the bench behind them.
Spo was almost sixty years old now.
At his age, some things were hard to take.
He could accept his team fighting hard all game only to fall short at the end, but he couldn't accept that he had calculated every possibility and Wang Yi had still managed to think one step further ahead.
He had anticipated that Wang Yi would deliberately miss the free throw, then take a two-point shot.
And Wang Yi had indeed missed the free throw, but he hadn't gone straight for his own rebound.
Instead, he'd let Pang Bo grab the rebound and pass it back to him. Then, while still in the air, he'd gone straight up for the two-point shot.
That completely dismantled the Heat's five-man encirclement.
This guy.
This guy.
He was a demon.
In the Player Tunnel,
Pat Riley, the Heat's General Manager, stood in his suit, his hair slicked back, looking polished and refined. The "Divine Calculator" secretly felt relieved.
Thank goodness he'd stopped coaching years ago.
Otherwise, he had no idea how many times Wang Yi would have made him look foolish.
Wang Yi thought in a way no other NBA coach did.
His mind was so unpredictable that no coach