TD North Shore Garden Arena was packed to the rafters, buzzing with excitement like a sea of joy.
As the passionate, powerful voice of commentator Mike Gorman boomed out like a great bell, his enthusiasm set the entire arena ablaze.
Immediately afterward, more than twenty thousand fans erupted in thunderous cheers, their voices like surging waves crashing higher and higher.
Amid the electrifying atmosphere, the Boston Celtics players filed out of the tunnel one after another.
Every player's appearance drew waves of applause, but everyone seemed to be waiting for one particular person.
Finally, when the last player, Goodwin, appeared at the mouth of the tunnel, the entire TD North Shore Garden Arena instantly erupted to its peak.
More than twenty thousand people throughout the arena shouted in unison: "MVP!" "MVP!" "MVP!"... The three letters merged into a mighty wave of sound, like rolling thunder descending from the heavens, deafening to the ears.
It echoed throughout the arena for a long time, then seemed to burst through its dome and spread through every street and alley in Boston, even crossing the oceans to reach every corner of the world.
Goodwin wore a smile as he confidently embraced the suffocatingly fervent cheers.
His strides were steady and powerful as he walked toward center court, one firm step at a time.
Along the way, he repeatedly exchanged high-fives with his excited teammates, passing confidence and strength between them.
At last, he came to a stop at his own position. Head held high and chest out, he stood straight as a pine, his eyes fixed firmly ahead, as if the dreams and glory he had pursued for so long were waiting there.
I'm here, my eighth championship!, Goodwin shouted inwardly.
At that moment, he radiated an unmatched dominance and determination.
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