So Excited I Can't Sleep-What Should I Do?

Hield and all the Kings players beside him were stunned, too.

Turning down the President's presentation—Wang Yi and those guys really were something else.

But then Hirod reached out and took it.

Xiao Hua had no choice but to hand the trophy to Hield.

The players held the gleaming silver Western Conference Champion trophy, shouting excitedly, laughing, and embracing each other for a long time.

Wang Yi, however, wasn't all that excited. He even seemed quite calm.

After all, his goal was the championship.

What did the Western Conference title matter?

History only remembered the champions. Who would bother remembering a Western Conference Champion?

Of course, the main reason was that Wang Yi's finger hurt terribly. That was also why he hadn't accepted the heavy championship Trophy just now.

Green, that bastard, had slapped his arm and the back of his hand several times. His finger bone had already shifted out of place.

He had to hurry and get the team doctor to treat it.

Next, the Kings returned to the locker room.

The moment Wang Yi entered, the pungent smell of champagne hit him.

All the players were laughing, embracing, and shouting with wild abandon.

They had pulled off an eight-seed upset all the way to the Finals.

They had made history and worked a miracle.

It was astonishing.

There had been outsiders on the court, after all, so they hadn't been able to show their true selves.

Now the locker room door was shut, and the Kings could finally let loose.

Holmes kept shouting, "Fuck, we're the Western Conference Champions! Fuck, we're in the Finals! Fuck, who says we can't do it?"

Hield was just as excited, letting a string of curses fly.

"Holy shit, who says the Kings can't do it? I wanna know—who? Ever since the