Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters-Chapter 443 - 297 Never-Ending Hatred_2

Chapter 443: Chapter 297 Never-Ending Hatred_2

The All-Star has always been a place that values legacy.

A few years ago, Jordan passed the torch to the young ones at the All-Star Game, but the League clearly felt that such a tradition wasn’t formal enough, lacking a proper past and future, and was even vague—with so many people at the All-Star Game, could everyone be eligible to inherit Jordan’s torch? Of course not. So, since the torch was passed on from West’s generation, it should naturally go to someone specific.

“Do you really think the torch is in my hands?” West said self-deprecatingly, “I wasn’t the biggest winner of that era.”

Dr. J smoothly took over the topic, “Pardon my frankness, but the torch and legacy weren’t popular before the ’80s. This tradition might have started with Irving (Magic Johnson), so he’s the one with the most authority to speak on it.”

Magic Johnson shone like a star born to command the stage.

“As you all know, ever since Michael made that twisting layup in front of me, I’ve lost my ‘fire,’” Magic exaggeratedly complimented Jordan beside him, “He took all the fire, so you better ask him about this.”

Yu Fei frowned as he listened, finding it hard to imagine that Magic had become such a staunch supporter of Jordan after being captivated just once… In this light, LeBron seemed to have more backbone.

So what if he was captured twice by Duncan? Or captured alone by Curry once? Or captured twice by the Curry-Durant duo? Everyone had been captured by someone; no one should talk, and as for Nowitzki—who by some fluke faced an off-focus LeBron to luckily capture him twice in the Finals and never make it back? Your karma is to miss the prestigious title of the NBA’s Greatest of the Second Dog of the 21st century, with the proper Greatest of All Time congratulating you in person at your Hall of Fame induction speech.

You have to have some spine when you’re out in the world!

Seeing Magic’s doglike demeanor, Yu Fei started to find LeBron more appealing.

Jordan, with a subtle expression and an unceasing smile, took the microphone.

Then, a fawning reporter stood up and asked, “Michael, as the greatest player of all time, if you were to choose, who would you pass your torch to?”

Jordan smiled, “You know, this is a multiple-choice question.”

“But what if you could only choose one?”

Jordan subtly glanced at the three young men beside him, the one he certainly wouldn’t choose—Yu Fei, and neither would he choose Kobe—at least not first, because if he chose Kobe he would have to face the question, “Why not choose Yu Fei, who seems to have a brighter future?” So, the answer was left to one.

“As I’ve said, I’m not the GOAT, I have no intention of carrying that title, but if I were to pick someone to carry the torch, I would choose LeBron,” Jordan said charmingly, “because he is the youngest, and youth means unlimited possibilities.”

LeBron looked pleasantly surprised.

Yu Fei started rolling his eyes, what am I even doing here?

Just as Yu Fei was wishing for someone to have a sudden heart attack as an excuse to leave…

He then saw Quint DiMio in the audience, wearing dog tags and winking at him.

Next, a bespectacled female reporter stood up. Her name was Lynn Sweet, from The Washington Post, typically covering hard-core news unrelated to basketball games. Tonight, she found herself inexplicably in an unusual position, in the NBA All-Star media interview room, asking some of the most powerful players questions they probably wouldn’t answer.

Before Lynn rose to her feet, her colleagues knew why she was there, and soon everyone realized she had a question for Jordan, and that she might never appear here again, hence they willingly gave her the opportunity.

Lynn thanked her peers, she just wanted to complete a mission. As an experienced reporter, she rarely felt embarrassed, almost as if she were an outsider. But she knew all she had to do was hold the recorder and ask questions. Such is the life of a reporter.

Jordan smiled, excited about the opportunity to embarrass Yu Fei at such a grand event, looking radiant with his gold tie, earrings, and brown jacket—giving him a familiar feeling, like being back in the ’90s when the world was watching him.

It made him believe that as long as he didn’t leave basketball, and as long as he sat here talking about basketball, nothing would change.

This illusion lasted less than two minutes. Lynn Sweet stepped forward, extended the recorder, and asked in a mechanical voice, “The lawsuit with your ex-wife seems unresolved, do you think there is any possibility of reconciliation?”

Everyone was stunned.

Yu Fei’s pupils shook like a magnitude-ten earthquake.

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Here it came, the sudden heart attack incident unfolding in a way better than Yu Fei could have imagined.

Jordan, like a fierce beast, locked eyes with Lynn and said, “That’s none of your business.”

This statement hung in the air, freezing the atmosphere solid.

The sycophantic reporters instantly threw out a dozen basketball questions, attempting to break the awkward silence, but Lynn loudly interrupted them: “Michael, why do you think your marriage failed?”

“What did you say?!!”

Jordan’s brown eyes seethed with blood, his lips trembling slightly, his expression fearsome.

Yu Fei was familiar with this look of Jordan’s.

Back when he was in D.C., he often provoked this expression from Jordan.

It indicated that he was beyond fury.

“It’s none of your business!” Jordan shouted back.

The League’s PR personnel desperately tried to put out the fire: “Alright, lady, it’s someone else’s turn to ask questions.”

“Hey, what’s alright? Lady, I like your question, do you have anything else you want to ask?” Yu Fei stopped the League’s PR with a sneer, “I was Michael’s teammate for a year, maybe you can ask me some questions about him. Although I didn’t get his torch, I still know a thing or two about him.”

Jordan’s face already looked murderous.

Lynn asked, “Are you familiar with his marriage?”

“Not familiar, besides, that’s his private affair,” Yu Fei laughed, “But I just happened to be his teammate when he got divorced.”

Lynn continued, “From your perspective, how do you view Michael’s marriage?”

“That’s his private matter, and I won’t say much, but I can offer an additional angle,” Yu Fei said calmly about the past, “I was the rookie he personally chose, he thought I had a great character, but a year later, because we didn’t get along, he traded me to Milwaukee. I won two championships in Milwaukee, and there might be more to come, so I think, divorcing Michael, might have been the best decision his ex-wife ever made.”

Yu Fei ignored Jordan, who was about to rampage, and spoke indifferently, “I’ve proven one thing, people become better than they were after leaving Michael Jordan.”

Then, Yu Fei turned around, facing the hysterical Jordan: “Thank you for not passing the torch to me, it saves me from having to find an excuse to throw it in your face.”

The feud between Yu Fei and Jordan, with the latter’s retirement, had become the stuff of legends.

Too many people knew about it but didn’t understand the details.

Today, there were no details.

Just a simple display.

A show of how much Jordan detested Yu Fei, and how much Yu Fei hated Jordan.

After saying those words, Yu Fei turned and walked away, abruptly ruining the press conference in a blunt manner.

Every player at the scene, except Jordan, had their own thoughts.

Magic Johnson could no longer smile, Dr. J looked somber, West was somewhat astonished, Kobe was pensive, only LeBron James was completely shocked.

Was this how Frye and MJ interacted?

Was this that legendary grudge?

By receiving the torch from MJ, did it mean the hatred was to be transferred to him?

No, no, that made no sense, and besides, Frye didn’t want that damned torch at all…

In the midst of panic, LeBron James portrayed a calm confusion, speaking to the reporters who were unsure whether to stay or leave: “I… I can take some questions.”

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