NBA Superstar
Chapter 23

I'll Reward You with a Ron Artest

1,127 words•4 min read•6 views
10d ago•

Goodwin returned to the locker room with a heavy expression. Facing the Eastern Conference's top team, the Indiana Pacers, they were sure to come back hard in the second half.

All schemes and tricks were futile in the face of overwhelming strength.

Goodwin silently opened his personal attributes panel:

Name: Goodwin

Gender: Male

Height: 206 cm

Weight: 100 kg

Wingspan: 215 cm

Layups: 49

Dunks: 50

Mid-range shots: 100

Three-pointers: 100

Pull-up jump shots: 71

Free throws: 100

Speed: 85

Explosiveness: 50

Strength: 65

Vertical leap: 66

Stamina: 81

Agility: 60

Passing vision: 40

Playmaking: 40

Defense: 70

Offense: 60

Injury immunity: 39

Ball handling: 61

Passing: 50

Rebounding: 50

Steals: 45

Blocks: 40

Overall rating: C

After two months of grueling training, Goodwin had spent almost all the skill points he'd earned on his physical attributes.

Without a strong body, even the best skills were no use.

Put simply, sports required good physical conditioning to support them.

His static attributes had been quite good before, but his dynamic ones had been lacking. After two months of training, his dynamic attributes had finally reached the standard of an athlete—barely.

But the revolution wasn't over; he still had to keep working.

He still had a long road ahead.

After checking his attributes, Goodwin couldn't help shaking his head. He still couldn't think of a solution. Right now, he only had a C, not a D, which meant his offense was strong but his defense was weak.

Fortunately, Goodwin didn't get much playing time, so that weakness hadn't been exposed.

While Goodwin was racking his brains, Paul Pierce sat down beside him and draped an arm around his neck. "What are you thinking about, Goodwin? You look so unhappy, I'd think we were losing!"

Who was this? He had a death wish!

Goodwin was about to fight back, but when he saw that it was Paul Pierce, he went from a tiger to a kitten in an instant, staying perfectly still as Pierce held him around the neck.

"I'm not unhappy, but I'm not happy either!"

Goodwin's answer left Paul Pierce looking completely baffled. What did that even mean? Was he happy or not?

Goodwin continued, "Paul, we're only ahead because we caught the Indiana Pacers off guard in the first half. But after they've made adjustments at halftime, they'll figure us out. We're going to face a fierce comeback in the second half!"

Paul Pierce's expression didn't change at all. He ran a hand over Goodwin's head and said, "You're just a substitute. Why worry so much? Even if you're right, I'll handle it."

Goodwin slapped Pierce's hand away and said seriously, "Paul, please don't touch my head from now on. I don't want to go bald."

For a handsome guy like him, having his head patted was absolutely unacceptable. Just look at that middle-aged man from San Antonio ten years later. His big brother had patted his head so often that he'd gone from a young man with a full head of hair to a bald middle-aged man.

Goodwin didn't even dare imagine himself bald.

Paul Pierce: "..." Fuck! He'd thought Goodwin would be really touched, but this was all he got? Paul Pierce wanted to slap him. The guy was great at ruining the mood.

He didn't want Pierce touching his head? Then Pierce would touch it anyway.

Without another word, Paul Pierce wrapped his right arm around Goodwin's neck and reached for his thick hair with his left hand.

No! No!

Goodwin fought back like crazy.

Paul Pierce: (〃'▽'〃)

The harder you fight, the happier I get.

The difference in strength was too great. Goodwin's resistance was futile, and in the end Paul Pierce ruffled his hair like crazy.

"Goodwin, your hair feels great." Paul Pierce even gave it a five-star review.

Goodwin: "..."

At that moment, Goodwin wished he could put every last skill point into strength.

But when he checked how many skill points he had left, there were none!

Ahhh! Help! Could someone save him? He didn't want to go bald!

Just then, an "angel" descended from the heavens.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

Doc Rivers clapped for the players, and they all turned to look at him.

That was when Paul Pierce finally let Goodwin go.

"You played great in the first half. We're facing the Eastern Conference's top team, the Indiana Pacers, and we've been beating them up. That shows how strong we are. As long as we all stick together, I believe we can win this game."

Doc Rivers' pep talk lifted the players' spirits.

Who didn't like hearing nice things? It was like being around a beautiful woman—the more you heard, the more fired up you got!

"That's right! We're going to win this game!" the players shouted excitedly.

Doc Rivers nodded in satisfaction, then began laying out their strategy for the second half.

Halftime ended, and both teams returned to the court.

As soon as the game resumed, things unfolded exactly as Goodwin had predicted: the Indiana Pacers launched a fierce comeback.

The Pacers were so strong this season because of their defense, so they began there.

Thud, thud, thud... They ramped up the physical play again and again.

"Clang!" "Clang!" "Clang!" Under the intense physical pressure, the Boston Celtics kept missing their shots, while the Indiana Pacers took advantage and gradually closed the gap.

Five minutes passed. Then Reggie Miller hit a three-pointer, and the Indiana Pacers took the lead.

60:61

Since the second half began, the Indiana Pacers had gone on a 13–2 run, taking the lead in one fell swoop.

The fans in the arena were stunned. Weren't they up by 10? How had they suddenly fallen behind by 1?

Plenty of fans rubbed their eyes and looked up at the big screen. It showed 60:61. It was real, not a dream.

"Timeout!" Doc Rivers called for a timeout at once. He'd expected the Indiana Pacers to come back hard in the second half, but he hadn't expected them to be this fierce.

At that moment, the Indiana Pacers were like a wild beast, pouncing on the Boston Celtics and clamping down without letting go. If the Celtics didn't fight back, they were going to lose.

What now?

Doc Rivers looked perfectly calm on the outside, but inside he was panicking.

He repeatedly rubbed his bald head with his left hand, his eyes darting around, until they landed on Goodwin, sitting on the bench.

In an instant, an idea came to him: Open the gates and send in Goodwin.

When play resumed, Goodwin was sent onto the court.

On the sidelines, the Indiana Pacers watched Goodwin come on and smiled faintly. I knew you'd come in, so I've got a Ron Artest for you.

End of Chapter
Novel
How was this translation?