Chapter 47: Playing with Fire

Chapter 59: Playing with Fire

"My God, damn it!" Witnessing the revolting scene, Su Feng felt nauseated. He rushed out of the locker room, calling for several janitors to clean up.

"Williams Adams Miller! Williams Adams Miller!" Without delay, Su Feng shouldered his bag and hurried toward the stadium's security center, where he found the Chief Security Officer of American Route Center Stadium, Williams Adams Miller Plass.

"What are you panicking about? Did some fan barge in asking for your autograph?" When Su Feng located Williams Adams Miller, the man in the black security uniform was holding a cup of coffee, joking with him. Over the years, no major security incident had ever occurred at the American Route Center Stadium—the daily tranquility had lulled this man into complacency.

"God, you really don’t know? Last night, a player stayed in the locker room! According to the rules, weren’t you supposed to make sure everyone was out?"

"What?" Williams Adams Miller was shocked by Su Feng’s words. The previous night, during his patrol of the players’ corridor, he’d noticed that the locker room lights were completely off. If anyone had been inside, the lights would have had to be on; otherwise, it would have been pitch black.

"Come with me, Williams Adams Miller. By the way, let’s check the state of our locker room."

They hurried through the winding corridors to the locker room door.

"Damn, what is that smell?" The moment they reached the entrance, the stench of vomit and alcohol assaulted Williams Adams Miller’s senses.

Fighting the urge to retch, Williams Adams Miller peered into the locker room. Even as several janitors had begun cleaning, Delonte West still lay sprawled at the front of the locker room like a slab of decaying meat.

"I truly had no idea this guy was in there last night! Damn it! Did he really spend the whole night in the dark?" Seeing Williams Adams Miller’s astonished expression, Su Feng could only shake his head in resignation.

When Delonte West first joined the team, the veterans had often warned Su Feng that he was mentally unstable.

At the time, Su Feng hadn’t taken those words seriously. Most of the season had passed, and West’s behavior had seemed normal. Though West always went his own way, he’d never caused trouble in the locker room. But now, Su Feng understood. Those old words were no laughing matter.

West’s hangover delayed the players by nearly an hour before they could use the locker room, which undoubtedly disrupted Carlisle’s training schedule.

When West finally woke, his eyes were glazed. He was summoned directly to the office by Cuban, and an hour later, he left. That day, West didn’t train; he went straight to the locker room, changed, and went home. According to reports, Cuban and Carlisle had granted him a day off. The Houston Rockets dealt with the incident rather mildly—apart from a fine, there was little punishment.

Still, the episode indirectly led to a significant drop in the team's training quality. Carlisle was highly dissatisfied with the practice that day, roaring on the court.

The players were already in poor spirits. With this mood, they would face the New Jersey Nets tomorrow.

"Brook Lopez might be the most versatile center in the league, and Brendan Haywood has no choice but to face the Nets’ star!" The commentator’s words had just landed when Lopez scored again with a hook shot. Haywood pounded the padding on the basket in frustration—he’d just let Lopez put up 28 points!

With that basket, the Nets took the lead once more. In this game, the lead had changed hands eighteen times, the contest bitter and hard-fought. Yet, even before tip-off, Nets coach Avery Johnson had admitted that unless God himself intervened, there was little hope of beating the Houston Rockets on their home court.

That was simply impossible. Did God show up tonight?

No—the Lord certainly did not favor Lopez this evening. The only reason the game, which should have been a foregone conclusion, remained so tense was the poor performance from everyone on the Houston Rockets except Su Feng.

The Rockets attacked again. Su Feng broke through easily, blowing past the breathless Deron, who seemed a shadow of his old self, no longer the orchestrator he had once been with the Jazz.

If the Nets hadn’t traded with the Rockets, perhaps it would be Su Feng working alongside Lopez now.

After Su Feng’s drive, both the Nets’ power forward Humphries and Deron chased him, leaving Nowitzki completely unmarked. Humphries, jealous of Su Feng’s favor from Kardashian, chose not to help, preferring to leave Dirk open since Nowitzki had been ice-cold all game.

By halftime, the Cleveland Cavaliers still hadn’t filled the hole dug by Kobe Bryant. 58–50, the deficit hardly reduced to single digits. The fans at Toyota Center were no longer as excited as at the start. If this kept up, they would lose.

In the second half, Casspi’s three-pointers rekindled hope for the Cavaliers. Suddenly ablaze, he hit three consecutive shots from beyond the arc! A single offensive surge, and the Cavaliers completed a comeback to take the lead!

But Casspi was only a role player. Once the lead flipped, the Rockets became alert. Su Feng switched into scoring mode—top-tier mode, something a role player could never match.

Carlisle had Iguodala step up on defense after Casspi’s trio of threes. This simple adjustment silenced Casspi completely.

And Su Feng? If Kobe Bryant couldn’t contain him, could the Cavaliers hope to stop him?

With Iguodala, Tony Allen, Gobert, and Nowitzki working together, Su Feng always found space. And with space, he scored.

By the midpoint of the third quarter, the lead was back to double digits. McHale waved his hand, as if putting the game away.

Double-teaming tactics are a gamble: if you do it to Kobe, you bet he’ll score through two defenders; if you do it to LeBron, you bet he’ll fail. But to use it on Su Feng was not a gamble—it was slow suicide.

Packing the paint meant someone else would always be free. As long as there was a sliver of space, Su Feng could catch and shoot with deadly accuracy and speed.

Iguodala became the biggest beneficiary of McHale’s double-team tactics. Whenever Parsons cut, Su Feng would tally another assist. In fact, whether Su Feng completed an assist depended less on his passing than on whether Iguodala finished the lob.

After two minutes of group play, McHale saw the gap widening. The Cavaliers became passive, and Kobe’s reckless foul on Iguodala only made things worse.

"That’s the fourth foul—Dwight Kobe Bryant is on the verge of fouling out! Honestly, there was no need for that foul. Once Iguodala gets up, he’s hard to stop. All I can say is, Dwight has been so out of sorts tonight," the commentator observed.

Kobe’s performance was dragging down the Cavaliers, forcing McHale to bench him again. But without him, their defense collapsed even faster.

So, the Cavaliers fell into a vicious cycle. If Kobe played, he became the target. If he sat, their paint was exposed. Midway through the fourth, Carlisle subbed out all five starters—the game was already decided.

"It’s over. Five minutes remain, but everything’s settled. The Cavaliers’ twenty-point deficit is insurmountable. Allen Chamberlain’s 31% shooting isn’t going to turn around suddenly. As for Dwight…well, Coach McHale must be grateful the Lord didn’t further trouble Cleveland tonight," Mike Breen muttered, having thought the game would be close. Unexpectedly, the Rockets cruised to another blowout win.

In the final five minutes, the Toyota Center had thinned out. Yao Ming sat in the second row, his expression awkward. The Cavaliers thought this would be a great showdown, but for the Dallas Houston Rockets, this was a destined victory.

Kobe still lived in his past glory, while Su Feng marched steadily toward greater honors.

After the game, the Cavaliers fled the stadium in haste. After suffering an eighteen-point defeat at the hands of the Rockets at home, none of them could show their faces. Only Allen Chamberlain remained; after a simple hug with Su Feng, he strode into the tunnel with a bitter smile.

Kobe was besieged by reporters. He’d shot just 4 for 10 for 13 points, tightly guarded by a rookie with just twenty-seven games under his belt—a fact that drew much attention.

"Dwight, didn’t you say you’d rip the Rockets’ defense apart? How would you rate your performance tonight?"

"Was it the right decision for the Dallas Houston Rockets to sign Rudy Gobert instead of you this summer?"

"How do you evaluate Rudy’s defense versus your offense?"

The reporters pressed on, stoking the flames of frustration within Kobe. Sometimes, a person’s transformation comes from the outside. Kobe grew ever more despondent, and the media bore some responsibility for that.

Rather than narrowing the gap, Kobe only widened it. But misfortune never comes alone.

Four minutes into the second quarter, Su Feng’s efforts paid off. On a driving layup, he deftly avoided Kobe, trying to escape the defensive web. But as Kobe grew more anxious, his defensive discipline unraveled.

This time, Kobe didn’t let Su Feng score. Out of breath, "Superman" launched himself and shoved Su Feng to the ground.

Though the fall hurt, when Su Feng heard the referee’s whistle, he managed a satisfied smile.

Kobe had fallen—on the court and in the paint. He began to foul deliberately, a sign he was giving up.

Three fouls were enough to bring Kobe down. The Cavaliers committed another, and after Su Feng’s free throws, McHale immediately called a timeout. As Kobe left the floor, McHale’s disappointment was impossible to hide.

No wonder the Dallas Houston Rockets had refused him in the summer. There was always a reason for such decisions.

Kobe covered his head with a towel—no one could see his face now. The "Happy Beast" certainly wasn’t smiling.

He had been the only player in the league who could stand in for LeBron, leading his team to the Finals and the Lakers, winning NBA Defensive Player of the Year three consecutive times from 2009 to 2011, five-time NBA rebounding leader, two-time NBA blocks leader, and two-time NBA All-Star leading vote-getter...

Kobe’s past was truly glorious. Two or three years ago, if someone called Kobe a true superstar, no one would have disagreed. But in NBA history, few superstars have fallen so far in a single season.

Perhaps Kobe still lived in his old glory, unable to accept that it was nearly impossible to return to his peak. He thought he was still the almighty warrior inside, feared by all for his three-point threat. He believed he was still a superstar, the whole team revolving around him.

But reality had changed. Now, when people talk about the Houston Cavaliers, what comes to mind is toughness—not the Superman who once soared over Orlando.

When it comes to the league’s best center, it’s likely Marc Gasol now, and only rarely does Kobe come to mind.

Whether or not he admits it, Kobe’s career is indeed on the decline. Like tonight—he was screened by a fourth-year guard and benched.

Harden was no solo hero, and the Cavaliers trailed the Rockets by thirteen. If not for the old veteran Brooks stepping in for Hayton and fearlessly hitting two wild threes over Su Feng, the deficit could have been even larger.

McHale didn’t publicly criticize Kobe, but everyone knew it was just for show. The Cavaliers were a newly assembled squad, and "Magic" was also a fresh duo. They needed time to adjust. McHale believed Kobe wouldn’t always be so downcast, but based on tonight, he would certainly give Kobe a failing grade.

Dwight was in foul trouble—he picked up his third early in the second. One had to admit, Coach Carlisle had real courage, daring his players to attack Kobe’s interior defense. But it worked beautifully.

"It’s only because Carlisle has such defenders that he dares to play this way," Mike Breen chuckled. Carlisle’s bravery wasn’t something Su Feng gave him. If you replaced Su Feng with another point guard, would Carlisle still dare attack Kobe’s rim? With a top-tier player, you’re always proactive in tactics.

After the timeout, Kobe sat rooted on the bench. Allen Chamberlain returned, but under Tony Allen’s defense, he couldn’t close the thirteen-point gap.

The much-anticipated Chandler Parsons seemed soulless, bricking jumpers from beyond the arc. Allen Chamberlain suddenly attacked, going at Su Feng again and again. But he wasn’t a true scoring machine—his outbursts happened rarely, and if the Cavaliers were relying on him to beat the Rockets, they had already hit a dead end.

Kobe hated the league, the reporters, and his opponents. For him, basketball brought no pure joy.

Head wrapped in a towel, Kobe ignored everyone as he squeezed into the locker room. He knew—he had been utterly defeated.