Whew...
Goodwin kept taking deep breaths. Ever since his defender switched from Reggie Miller to Artest, he'd been having a rough time.
Artest was relentlessly trash-talking him.
"Rookie, you're softer than the girl I was with last night."
"Rookie..."
He spewed insults, spraying saliva everywhere.
Goodwin had to admit, none of it was getting to him.
Goodwin would always remember one thing: other people had mouths, and they were free to say whatever they wanted.
Even the basketball god himself had been trashed. People said things like Jordan couldn't win a championship without Pippen.
Artest was also extremely physical. If Reggie Miller's defense was gentlemanly, Artest's was thuggish.
Yanking, grabbing, crashing!
He threw everything he had at Goodwin.
And Goodwin's offense went completely cold.
Just moments ago, Goodwin had tried to get open off the ball, but Artest had struck him hard, driving an elbow straight into his chest. For a split second, Goodwin thought he was about to meet God.
Fuck!
It took him a few seconds to recover. When he did, he saw Paul being double-teamed, then stripped of the ball, and Boston lost possession.
Goodwin clutched his chest as he ran back.
But the next second, Artest caught up with him and slammed into him.
Thud!
The impact sent Goodwin staggering, nearly sending him into a hug with the floor.
"Fuck you! You still haven't had enough?"
Goodwin's fury surged through him. Once he steadied himself, he slammed into Artest with all his strength.
Thud! Muscle crashed against muscle.
The collision rang out across the court.
Artest didn't get angry at being hit back. If anything, he looked even more excited. This is how basketball should be played. Come on!
The two of them seemed to become spectators to everything else. Whether on offense or defense, they