"To be honest, when I saw the final rankings, I barely felt anything anymore."
Marv Albert leaned back in his chair, his hands folded over his stomach, a knowing smile on his face.
"We have to admit that Li Fei has forcibly raised the standard by which all of us judge players."
"Twenty years ago, an interior player averaging 32.7 points, 21.3 rebounds, and 6.8 blocks in a single season would have been hailed by the entire league as a once-in-a-century prodigy."
"But now, if his name isn't at the top of a statistical leaderboard, we find it strange instead."
Kevin Harlan nodded in agreement, tapping the eye-catching 51.4% shooting percentage beside the three-point king category.
"This is the most absurd one. A 7-foot-4 starting center winning the season three-point title—nothing like it has ever been seen in over seventy years of NBA history."
Bill Walton adjusted his glasses, his tone carrying a trace of amused disbelief.
"He has swept the regular-season MVP, Defensive Player of the Year, and all four statistical titles for five straight seasons."
"If those honors went to someone else this year, I'd honestly think even Li Fei himself would feel uncomfortable."
"For him, winning these individual awards has long become routine."
The big screen immediately switched scenes, with a rolling highlight reel of Li Fei's regular-season performances playing on the left.
Backing down through triple teams in the post before powering to the rim, pulling up from the free-throw line for a clean mid-range jumper, raising up from the top of the arc to bury a three, leaping inside to send an opponent's layup flying with a sky-high block.
The visually overwhelming sequence drew another round of exclamations from the three commentators in the studio.
Marv Albert turned serious, putting away his earlier lighthearted teasing.