The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 1828 - 69: The Final Performance_3

But off the court, people would immediately change their faces. Russell couldn't eat at white restaurants, nor could he stay at white hotels.

He was only the "greatest basketball player" on the court; off the court, he was just a black man.

Through relentless struggle and social change, by the year 2000, Gan Guoyang certainly wouldn't encounter Russell's predicament. 𝕗𝕣𝐞𝐞𝘄𝐞𝚋𝚗𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗹.𝚌𝕠𝚖

He was a superstar and a holder of capital, but in the realm of the NBA, players on and off the court are worlds apart.

Players are heroes on the court, but in the owners' balance sheets, they're just assets, tools for tax deductions.

Even someone like Gan Guoyang, a monumental figure in basketball, his influence still lingered on the court and could only remain there.

If he declared he was joining a team, the owners of the 29 teams would kneel at his doorstep, begging him to join.

But if Gan Guoyang said, "I want to come to your team's city and become part of the team," most owners would probably be on high alert.

Especially Nike Group, the love-hate relationship between them and Gan Guoyang, Avia is worth writing a book about.

Ever since Gan Guoyang found out Old Tang sold part of his shares to Nike, he knew his time with the Trail Blazers wouldn't last long.

"Then… what to do? You can always be a minor shareholder, right? Or else, you could become a coach, you'd definitely be great at it."

"Spare me, Ah Hui. Coach? I'm afraid I'll lose all my hair. Besides, once I retire, I want to have a good rest."

"Big brother, don't I know you well? As long as Uncle is in good health, your heart can't leave basketball, right?"

It seemed Gan Guohui hit the nail on the head; Gan Guoyang remained silent and stood up to continue his shooting practice.

Indeed, he couldn't leave basketball; he loved the game, loved the feeling of throwing the ball into the basket.

Gan Guoyang began to ponder how to continue the game after really retiring, what could be done?

Once his mind started buzzing, the melancholy in his heart vanished without a trace.

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On June 17th, the day of Game 5 of the finals, it started raining in Portland.

The weather forecast said no rain, but somehow the convergence of hot and cold air moved over Portland's skies.

From around eleven in the morning, the whole city began to see rain, which grew heavier and heavier.

The Trail Blazers Team didn't organize practice today, they only required players to arrive at the arena punctually in the afternoon, ready for warm-ups.

Early in the morning, Gan Guoyang did a half-hour warm-up practice. Seeing the heavy rain, he decided to head to the Rose Garden Arena early.

If he were late for this game, it would be troublesome.

Gan Guoyang's decision was correct; he soon encountered a traffic jam on the road, and the line of cars grew longer and longer, stretching endlessly.

"What's going on today? Why is it so heavily jammed?" Gan Guoyang asked.

"All the cars are heading to the Rose Garden Arena, and with the rain, it's bound to be bad," replied Quentin.

Looking at the time, there should still be enough time, the game wouldn't start until 7:30 in the evening.

However, Gan Guoyang underestimated the rain's intensity and duration, as well as this game's influence.

The car remained stuck on the highway for two whole hours without moving an inch.

The radio broadcasted: "Portland is experiencing an unprecedented traffic jam. Due to Ah Gan's championship finals game, a large number of out-of-town vehicles flooded into Portland. Although the Rose Garden Arena can only accommodate 20,000 spectators, it's estimated over 200,000 people disregarded the rain, converging on the arena. There are frequent traffic accidents on the route, and the rain increased the difficulty for traffic cops to direct the flow, with jams likely to last three to five hours, possibly longer..."

While waiting, Gan Guoyang called his coach and teammates, discovering everyone was stuck on the road, with only a few players living nearby having reached the arena.

This truly was an unprecedented situation; the Celtics, in contrast, smoothly reached the arena because they stayed close by, close enough to walk if it jammed.

"Fack, if we don't arrive, will it be deemed a forfeit?" Gan Guoyang began worrying about this issue, as there's seemingly no such precedent in NBA finals history.

Outside, the rain showed no sign of letting up, and the vehicles on the road moved at a snail's pace.

At a loss of what to do, Gan Guoyang received an unfamiliar phone call.

"Hello, is this Sonny, is this Sonny Gan?"

"Yes, I'm Sonny Gan. Who is this?"

"This is the FBI. Are you stuck on the road? Stay calm; we're sending a helicopter to pick you up."

Unexpectedly, the call was from the FBI. Over the past year, FBI had been covertly monitoring Gan Guoyang.

Of course, they didn't catch anything, and Wang Fuxi even invited some agents over for dinner at home.

Now, facing the unprecedented traffic jam while the police were busy directing traffic, the situation was quite chaotic.

The FBI extended a helping hand, dispatching a helicopter that located itself above the road based on the position of Gan Guoyang's phone signal.

The strong airflow from the helicopter's rotors blew away the rain, and the spotlight signaled, hovering very low.

A soft rope ladder descended, and Gan Guoyang had to hold on, letting the helicopter lift him up.

Quentin worriedly said, "Boss, this weather, it's a bit dangerous..."

Gan Guoyang replied, "Don't worry, I'm blessed, nothing will happen."