Chapter 448: Ten Thousand Times Stronger Than Him
Yang Mo was puzzled, but he didn't dwell on it. He shook his hair to clear his mind and went off to warm up. He knew the Clippers would use all their defensive energy against him tonight, making it a battle of spear and shield.
For the Clippers, winning or losing is not important. They have completely missed the playoffs anyway. What they have to do now is to save their face. It was already embarrassing that Durant scored 55 points on them last time. If Yang Mo scored 60 points on them tonight , wouldn’t that be a laughing stock?
Essentially , this was a battle for face. Yang Mo, determined to score 60 points, and the Clippers, determined not to let him, were on opposite sides. Whoever achieved their goal would win; whoever failed would lose face.
Since Yang Mo was already the biggest star in the league, his mere sneeze or casual remark would make headlines. Unsurprisingly, the game was broadcast live nationwide, with TNT paying a hefty price to secure the rights. Tickets to Staples Center sold out the very night Yang Mo made his statement.
This is Yang Mo's appeal. Although the media is always exposing his negative news, the negative news is not the worst thing. The worst thing is no news. A star player with no news value is the most tragic, because no one cares about what you do.
Before the game against a team as awful as the Clippers, Yang Mo said bluntly, "Our main strategy tonight is to train our reserves. So, tonight's starting lineup is Douglas, Tracy McGrady, Gallinani, Randolph, and me . Everyone, go all out, and everyone has unlimited shooting rights."
Yang Mo said this with great pride, but the butler Stan couldn't help but whisper a reminder: "Yang, you said you wanted to get 60 points tonight..."
Before Stan could finish expressing his concerns, Yang Mo smiled, patted his shoulder, and said confidently, "Don't worry, 60 points is no problem for me. It's just 20 three-pointers, right?"
"Twenty three-pointers?" Stan's mouth dropped open unconsciously. If it hadn't been Yang Mo who said that, he would have been sarcastic: "You yawning toad, such a big mouth! Twenty three-pointers, you think you're throwing stones into the ocean?" However, since it was Yang Mo, he was quite impressed by her three-point shooting skills, but he couldn't help but feel a little worried: "Isn't that too optimistic?"
"Don't worry, besides three-pointers, I plan to use another skill of mine tonight." Yang Mo smiled mysteriously, full of a sense of mystery.
Stein was bewildered by Yang Mo's enigmatic smile, but he didn't press the issue. Since his boss wanted to keep things a secret, he'd better keep his mouth shut and not ruin the atmosphere. After all, Yang Mo was the ultimate authority on this team. Everyone depended on him for survival, and he'd personally promoted him to head coach.
Soon, the competition officially arrived.
When the game began and the starting lineups took the court, the Clippers' head coach, who had meticulously deployed all of his team's best players, felt deeply insulted. "Damn it! I put Chris Kaman, Andrew Jordan, Caron Butler, O'Neal, and Baron Davis on the court, and you just throw in four garbage players and Super Yang? I'm going for the 'king bomb,' and you're going for 'three, four, five, six, seven'?"
Clippers interim head coach Hughes was filled with anger and felt humiliated.
However, even so, DeAndre Jordan still lost to Anthony Randolph in the jump ball. Although Jordan has a domineering name and a strong height and arm span, he is still not as good as the bamboo stick Anthony Randolph in terms of jumping ability. After all, Randolph relies on jumping ability to make a living.
Anthony Randolph passed the ball directly to Yang Mo. After Yang Mo received the ball, before he could start to move, O'Neal pressed forward tightly, with an attitude that made sure Yang Mo would not have an easy time.
To be fair, Otero's defense was not bad. At least he restricted Yang Mo's footwork to a certain extent, preventing Yang Mo from doing whatever he wanted.
However, Yang Mo had too many tricks to escape Otero, but he didn't want to use them yet. He just wanted to tease him. For Yang Mo, it would be too boring to deal with a weakling and start a fight right from the start. It takes a lot of cat-and-mouse fun before you kill him, let alone bully a weakling.
"You are from the Trail Blazers, right?" Yang Mo asked Otero while dribbling forward.
"What do you want to say?" Otero asked back with some caution. In order to complete his task as head coach, he had to maintain sufficient hostility towards Yang Mo from the beginning.
"I heard the Portland Trail Blazers used to be known as Prison City. I didn't understand it before, but now that I've met you, I finally understand." Yang Mo chuckled and jokingly said, "Your name says it all. Out of law. You've all broken the law. You must be a Prison City."
Yang Mo's joke made Otero's face turn pale. He said with a straight face, "This joke is not funny at all. Thank you."
"So what do you think of this joke?" Yang Mo asked softly, tilting her head.
"What's the joke?" Otero asked subconsciously.
But before he could finish his words, Yang Mo suddenly made a sharp breakthrough to the left. He quickly turned sideways. The idea of a 'cunning guy' just popped out of his mind, but before it was fully born, Yang Mo suddenly pulled it back to the right like an FI racing car around a corner. His ankle subconsciously deflected, but under the strong inertia, it actually got knotted and twisted.
Just as he felt his ankle twist, Yang Mo's basketball whizzed past his crotch, and Yang Mo's body quickly dodged past him to the right. When he tried to turn around to follow Yang Mo's voice... bang! The huge twist made him fall to the ground, completely losing his figure.
At this time, Yang Mo was already one step outside the three-point line. He jumped up easily, facing the unguarded three-point line, and shot directly...Swish!
The basketball went into the net very smoothly and fluently.
After the ball went in, the fans at Staples Center erupted in exclamations. Even those who weren't die-hard Clippers fans cheered loudly. They wouldn't see such a spectacular goal many times in their lives, and being able to witness it firsthand was truly a blessing.
But for Otero, who had been knocked down and then groin-pierced, this good fortune was a disaster. It was as if everyone else's good fortune was built on his pain. He had originally thought Yang Mo's "joke" was a way to paralyze him, but it turned out to be a pre-rehearsal. He was now the joke among jokes, and would undoubtedly be remembered by history as he retired. After all, there hadn't been many such embarrassing incidents in basketball history.
But this was not the worst. The worst thing was that when he was about to stand up, he suddenly discovered that his ankle could no longer bear full force, and he felt a tearing pain.
Damn it, doctor!
The sight of Outlaw slamming the floor and screaming completely shattered Hughes' heart. Outlaw was the defensive nemesis he'd meticulously prepared for Yang Mo. Damn it, he got injured in less than a minute. How could I possibly play? Was this God's will? Was I destined to be nailed to the pillar of shame tonight ?
Hughes felt his fate was awful. He had originally thought that the sudden appointment as head coach would make him a star. Unexpectedly, the dismal record led to him being cursed by fans and criticized by management. He was completely reduced to a tablecloth, a punching bag, and a scapegoat!
Hughes felt as if the entire sky was covered by dark clouds. However, Yang Mo walked up to Otero with an apologetic look on his face and said very embarrassedly, "I just wanted to play a joke on you, but I didn't expect to hurt you physically."
Although Yang Mo apologized sincerely, these words were undoubtedly another stab in the heart for Otero: Do you mean you just want to hurt my heart?
Although he felt extremely uncomfortable, he still maintained his composure and replied, "This has nothing to do with you. It's just that my tape was too tight today."
Otero's words seemed to be an excuse for Yang Mo, but more so, they were just a way of trying to save himself some embarrassment. After all, getting hurt by someone shaking you isn't a pleasant thing to hear. If... it was because he'd tied the tape too tightly, then at least it wouldn't be so embarrassing, right?
"Then... tie it looser next time." Otero said so. Yang Mo had no choice but to back off. After patting Otero on the shoulder to show his friendliness, he stood up and walked aside, waiting for the doctor to give Otero a diagnosis.
He just walked to the sidelines to take a break when he found Scarlett Johansson waving at him: "Hey, Super Yang, I'm here, your shot was amazing. It's a hundred times better than Kevin Durant's shot!!"
"Ah ha?" Yang Mo couldn't help but be a little surprised when he heard this. He thought if Kevin Durant heard this, he would probably vomit blood. This was the goddess he was willing to drink bath water from.
"No, it's ten thousand times higher than his!!" Scarlett Johansson quickly corrected her own quantifier level.
"Um...thank you." Yang Mo replied a little embarrassedly: "I hope you can have a pleasant night."
"Yes, it will happen. Now we have a perfect start."
"I'm honored, Scarlett." Yang Mo nodded and said, "But it would be even better if you could help me keep track of my score. I need someone on the sidelines to remind me exactly how many points I've scored. I don't want to get a dismal score like 61 or 62. Although I'm not a fussy Virgo, I do like to pursue perfection."
"Okay, no problem. It's my honor. I'll definitely tell you your score as soon as you score. However, I'm not very confident in my math." Scarlett smiled slightly and raised her phone. "But it's okay. I have this."
"Thank you! Then let's work together!"
