Los Angeles Fans Cyberbully Jenny Bass
Wang Yi and James walked around the artificial lake, then sat on the lawn to rest.
Wang Yi happened to notice that at least one-fifth of the neatly trimmed beard on James's face had turned white.
James was old. Truly old.
James would turn forty this December.
For ordinary people, forty was the prime of life, the golden age for building a career.
But for professional athletes, thirty-five was already considered old. After that, their competitive ability declined sharply.
Forty was simply too old.
Most players who were forty spent the whole year on the bench, only occasionally getting on the court to stretch their legs.
Throughout NBA history, only a handful of players had made it to forty.
And James was the only one in history to play from eighteen to forty as a team's leading star.
His freakish physical gifts had allowed him to stay at his peak for so long.
But he was still human, and humans grew old.
Although James had seemed to grow younger during this year's Regular Season, averaging nearly thirty points per game,
in the much more intense Playoffs, it was clear that he was often struggling to keep up.
"How much longer are you going to play?"
Wang Yi couldn't help asking.
James shook his head. "As long as I can. When I can't do it anymore, I'll retire."
Wang Yi nodded.
He thought of himself.
Maybe one day, he'd be like James, unable to keep playing and forced to retire.
The two fell silent for a long time.
Given James's personality, Wang Yi could guess what he was thinking without even trying.
He wanted to chase greatness and cement his place as the second-best player in history. To add more to his legacy, he