Last night, King Arthur had barely slept.
He had scrolled through the posts online. Everywhere he looked, on Twitter, YouTube, and elsewhere, people were condemning him.
The last time King Arthur had shown signs of this, the fans hadn't noticed, because although he had passed to Wang Yi less often, he had still passed him the ball now and then.
His refusal to pass to Wang Yi hadn't been so obvious. But in this game, during the final few minutes, he had barely passed to Wang Yi at all. Wang Yi hadn't even gotten a single touch.
He had spent the whole time running back and forth.
In the past, Wang Yi had almost always controlled the offense in crucial moments. But in the previous game, when everything came down to the wire, Wang Yi hadn't even been able to touch the ball.
It didn't take much thought for the smarter fans to figure out that King Arthur was trying to seize control.
Wang Yi had given him the leading role, but he wasn't satisfied. What he wanted was to be the one in charge when the game was on the line.
He didn't want people to say he was riding someone else's coattails.
Once the fans figured that out, the backlash against him grew even louder.
King Arthur spent most of the night scrolling through the condemnation online. He felt conflicted: guilty, resentful, and aggrieved all at once.
He wondered whether he had done the right thing or the wrong thing.
He had thought about how, if he had passed the ball to Wang Yi at the end, Wang Yi probably would have made the shot.
But then Wang Yi would have gotten even more attention, and his own title as the team's leader would have been nothing but