Outside the Bradley Center, fans who had come from far away cheered as tears streamed down their faces.
Link had won. The series score was now 3-0, and his ultimate goal of winning a fourth straight championship could basically be considered achieved.
But at the same time, it meant this would be the final glorious night of Link's career.
The fans were both delighted and heartbroken.
Many of them raised signs in their hands, begging Link to stay.
He was only thirty-two. He was healthy and had never suffered a career-destroying injury.
He was still at his peak. He could still play!
Everyone hoped Link could keep this incredible performance going instead of bringing it all to an end.
And what they wanted to say had now been voiced by Stephen A. Smith.
Link stood frozen in place. He had never expected the usually unserious Stephen A. Smith to say something like that.
What should have been a joyous night of celebration was now tinged with sorrow.
Link and Stephen A. Smith simply looked at each other for several seconds without speaking.
Stephen A. Smith was waiting for Link's answer, while Link did not know what to say for the moment.
They stared at each other for about half a minute before Link slowly spoke. "I can't bear to leave the court either, Stephen. But I've already made my decision, man. Let's start the interview, or the fans are all going to change the channel."
"There's really no room for reconsideration?" Stephen A. Smith continued to press. He knew he could not possibly convince Link to stay with just a few words.
But he still wanted to try.
He did not want his favorite player to leave the stage of history just like that.
Stephen A. Smith was famously sharp-tongued.