Chapter 108: The Ball Reflects the Man

Nelson seemed to sense something, so he granted Lin Fei a day off. In truth, this was arguably the wisest move. Consider the behavior of superstars: Iverson used to openly clash with coaches and frequently skipped practice; look at LeBron, in whose eyes a coach is nothing more than a figurehead. If a superstar openly challenges a coach, it is usually the coach who suffers. Nelson’s maneuver was brilliant—it provided Lin Fei with a reason to rest, left himself a graceful way out, and earned him a favor. It must be said that he is well-versed in the Chinese way of handling interpersonal relations, which is undoubtedly his greatest asset in coaching Lin Fei.

The next day at practice, his teammates were surprised to find that Lin Fei was the first one to arrive, repeatedly demonstrating his dead-eye three-point shooting.

One! Two! Three! Lin Fei counted his shots, all of them three-pointers! Eight! Start over! One! Two! Three!

No one knew how many shots Lin Fei had taken.

He was drenched in sweat.

His expression was cold and stern.

It was clear he had not emerged from the gloom of that last game—or more accurately, he had not shaken off the frustration of being ejected and suspended.

When his teammates arrived and tried to greet him, Lin Fei didn't seem to hear them; he was entirely focused on his shooting.

Thirty! Thirty-one! Thirty-two! The teammates’ eyes widened in astonishment. Lin Fei had made thirty-two consecutive three-pointers! It was absolute history; if he were lucky, this kid might even be able to set a Guinness World Record.

Thirty-three! Everyone held their breath, suppressing their excitement. Lin Fei’s previous record was thirty-three consecutive three-pointers, after which he had stopped and refused to continue.

Thirty-fourth! Lin Fei held the ball up, then suddenly paused. This rarely happened for a player like Lin Fei, whose shooting was always crisp and decisive. He usually prioritized speed and directness; shots like this, hanging in the air, were rare.

He steadied himself and looked at the rim once more.

"Whoosh." The ball left his hand and swished through the net. All his teammates cheered for the kid.

The cold, stern expression on his face suddenly gave way to a look of relief. The change was swift.

Did thirty-four hold any significance?

Fans were going wild. "Thirty-three" was a homophone for "Shan Shan."

She was a classmate of his from college. Shan Shan was her nickname. Although many were drawn to someone like Lin Fei, he rarely let his guard down. Just as he was always obsessed with long-range shooting, he never envied those with a more well-rounded game.

Many say that a player’s style on the court reflects their character. Perhaps there is some truth to that. Through a player’s style and approach to the game, it is often easy to guess what kind of person they are.

On the court, Lin Fei emphasizes speed and possesses excellent clutch ability, which aligns perfectly with his calm, unflappable personality. From the moment he started shooting, you could tell he would be an extraordinary figure, as he dared to take unexpected shots amidst the crowd, showing absolute courage and grit. His crisp and decisive style of play reveals his forthright nature. You might also notice he is quite individualistic, which hints at the darker side of his personality—an intense sense of pride. When you think about it, perhaps the conclusion that "the game reflects the man" is accurate. And according to this logic, did his suspension stem from an inherent, impulsive gene?

Consider others. Take Kobe: his competitiveness, his handling of clutch situations, and his attitude toward teammates—don't these reveal his personality? Look at LeBron: his dominance, his aggressive style, his controversial move to the Heat, and his occasional arrogance—don't these reflect his character? Think of the classic examples like Iverson or McGrady; doesn't their style of play define them?

It could be said that Lin Fei’s personality dictates his style.

The reason Lin Fei hadn't taken that thirty-fourth shot before was perhaps because he was thinking of Shan Shan. It is almost certain that he had hesitated when choosing his jersey number, considering 33, but eventually chose 43 because his father was 43 that year. None of his numbers were chosen without reason.

"Can I match up against Terry in the next game?" Lin Fei asked, looking at Nelson with deep, piercing eyes. He had bottled up too much.

"Of course! This is your team!" Nelson shrugged. This answer clearly took Lin Fei by surprise.

In truth, until now, Lin Fei had not acted like the team leader. He was undoubtedly the absolute ruler of the Warriors' offense, but in terms of the team’s overall system, he wasn't even the core because of his poor defense. Moreover, his rise had been so rapid that his teammates hadn't yet adapted to him as the focal point. Nelson’s words were, in effect, an imperial decree.

The Mavericks were in turmoil as well, partly due to Nelson’s presence. Perhaps they were wondering why Lin Fei hadn't been suspended longer, which would have saved them the headache.

Terry kept chirping, "That kid is mine. In front of me, he won't even get a chance to shoot, while I can easily pull up for jumpers over him! The reporters should just wait and see! Our team is undoubtedly the best in the league!"

Although Lin Fei despised Terry’s words from the bottom of his heart, he only responded with a cold smile when he heard them. This moment was captured by a reporter and became the headline of a sports magazine the next day.

The title read: "We Will Meet Again!" The illustration was that cold, stern smile of Lin Fei.

Perhaps people were reminded of a frequently discussed topic: if someone who is already unstoppable under normal conditions enters a state of absolute, furious, "crazy mode" for an entire game, what would be the result? This was, without a doubt, Lin Fei’s first ejection and his first suspension. How much energy had he been storing up? How much power would he unleash in the next game? These were all unknowns. The most immediate feeling was: how many points could this kid score? Perhaps this anticipation was why scalpers were rampant outside the Warriors' home arena, with ticket prices rising at a rate rivaling China's housing prices and CPI—a scene remarkably similar to the scalping of train tickets in China. This is "Chinese-style" chaos, and it was all caused by Lin Fei!

Would he score 60 points? That would be a god-like stat. Throughout NBA history, those who have scored over 60 points in a playoff game are few and far between, and they are all era-defining figures like Jordan or Chamberlain. Now, for Lin Fei, it was about the team. Some even hoped Lin Fei would break the playoff scoring record, or even reach 70 points to become the greatest in history. But the media is just the media; they express their hopes, which are not reality.

Before the second game, Lin Fei said to his teammates, "Don't worry. Win or lose, we will be the best! I'm looking forward to our home game." He was very relaxed.