Champion Creed -
Chapter 75 - 75 056 Michael is no longer the center of the world
75: 056: Michael is no longer the center of the world 75: 056: Michael is no longer the center of the world “How could Scottie Pippen have the nerve to leave the press conference early?” Yes, Roger missed the last shot.
But if our great Mr.
Scottie could have lifted his shooting percentage to 30%, that’s right, not too high of a demand, just needed him to get that damn shooting percentage up to 30%, the Bulls would’ve nailed that game.”
Shaquille O’Neal defended his good brother Roger when asked about the failed buzzer-beater.
It wasn’t just Shaq; many media outlets also criticized Pippen for not acting like a real locker room leader.
His shooting percentage had been frighteningly low for three consecutive games, yet he acted as if he was the one who was upset.
“SportsCenter” also felt, “You all say Roger is rebellious, but I think it’s Scottie who has been making the Bulls’ locker room tense.”
Roger never expected Pippen to support him, this man who lived his life in envy and dissatisfaction, now had little sunshine left in his heart.
After the last missed game-winner, Roger simply continued perfecting his off-ball offensive skills, adapting to the feel of shooting in heavy contact.
Larry Bird’s face no longer nauseated Roger, and Reggie Miller’s game footage had become his best form of spiritual nourishment.
Roger even had a special request, asking Abunassar to collect game footage of a college player for him.
In an era where the internet was not advanced, let alone the dodgy tapes, even getting these proper tapes wasn’t so easy.
Abunassar got in touch with an NCAA scout he knew well and managed to obtain the footage Roger wanted only after trading for it with a game-worn jersey and autographed sneakers of Roger’s.
Ray Allen from the University of Connecticut.
Abunassar had heard of the kid, even back in high school, there were many who compared him to Roger, considering Ray Allen one of the few backcourt prodigies who could be mentioned in the same breath as Roger.
After entering college, Ray Allen’s style of play underwent a drastic change.
He reduced his ball-handling, focusing more on off-ball offense and did exceptionally well at it.
His use of screens, cuts, and jump shots was practically textbook perfect.
He hardly ever made mistakes; he only got called for an offensive foul once the entire season.
Like a clockwork machine programmed to precision, he operated with relentless accuracy.
He even went so far as to say in a media interview, “I don’t like any mistakes in anything, control is an entire part of my life.”
Although Roger, now the same age as Ray Allen, had already become an NBA All-Star starter, Abunassar had to admit that Ray Allen was someone worth learning from.
Lu An quickly realized that Roger seemed to have gone back to his high school days.
His life consisted of nothing but training, games, and sleep.
His room was plastered with posters of every Knicks player, just like the basketball tactics once on the wall.
A poster of Pat Riley was hung at the center of the wall, filled with darts, resembling a giant dartboard.
The first thing Roger did every morning was to grab a dart from the bedside table and accurately hit Pat Riley’s shiny head.
If he didn’t take a shot at it once a day, Roger felt all out of sorts.
Bulls veteran Bill Cartwright saw it all and after practice one day, while looking at Roger who was getting ready for extra practice with a basketball, he turned to John Paxson, “This kid is under too much pressure; the whole of Chicago is expecting him to thrash the Knicks in the playoffs, but people often overlook the fact—he’s only 18 years old.”
“What are you worried about, Bill?” Paxson asked.
“I’m worried he might be crushed before the playoffs even start; it’s just too heavy a burden for an 18-year-old to carry a whole city’s expectations.
We need to help this young leader.”
Pippen, overhearing the phrase “young leader,” glanced at Cartwright disdainfully, and left without joining the conversation after changing his clothes.
Paxson and Cartwright paid no mind to the unhappy Pippen, whose comments after the last loss to the Knicks had disappointed many in the locker room.
Cartwright moved closer to John Paxson, “John, what did you crave the most at 18?”
“To be well-fed, not to be kicked out by the landlord with my family,” Paxson candidly answered.
“Okay, clearly our young leader doesn’t have such worries as he’s already a millionaire; think about something else.”
“Damn it, Bill, how should I remember what I wanted most at 18?
Besides eating…
women?”
“Women?” Bill Cartwright’s eyes lit up, “Yes, John, yes, you’re right.
Weren’t the cheerleaders and players from the University of Illinois visiting the Berto Center today?”
Paxson seemed to catch on and advised, “Bill, don’t overdo it.”
Cartwright took something from his locker and placed it on the bench in front of Roger’s locker, “Overdo it?
I’m just trying to help Roger relax a bit.”
Half an hour later, Roger, drenched in sweat, sat at the side of the court after finishing the first set of off-ball movement drills.
His actions proved that there was no such thing as the Iceman on this planet.
The Iceman didn’t sweat during training, simply because he hardly trained, or slacked off during it.
If George Gervin had trained like Roger, the nickname Iceman would’ve never been coined.
At that moment, Abunassar heard someone knocking on the door of the training hall.
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