Volume 1 Western Cowboy Chapter 84 Lucky Tennis
Wayne looked at the text message on his phone and to be honest, he was a little panicked.
The area of Twisting Yao is neither like the university town of Stillwater nor the big country town of Indianapolis.
Those two places are relatively simple, but here there is a mix of all kinds of people.
As we all know, the Pacers and the New York Knicks are mortal enemies.
The two teams met several times in the playoffs in the 1990s, and each time the game was full of sparks.
New Yorkers always think they are from a big city and have a mysterious superiority towards the Pacers. They often insult Pacers players by calling them "country bumpkins."
Although the last time the two sides met in the playoffs was in the millennium.
However, over the years, the hatred between the fans and teams of both sides has not been completely diluted.
Until now, Reggie Miller can be ranked among the top five most hated players by New York fans.
Be confident, top three!
Could it be that some extreme New York fan threatened him because he was selected by the Pacers?
But... this guy is too bold and arrogant. He actually asked me to make a phone call?
Wayne dialed the number out of curiosity.
Could he possibly come over and chop me down through the telephone line?
Then, a hoarse voice came from the phone: "Hey, Wei! Haha, you really called me. Do you know who I am?"
"How do you know my phone number?" Wayne didn't answer the question, but instead asked the other party a question.
"I asked Larry Bird for it. Isn't it just a matter of minutes?"
Wayne: “???”
Can a New York fan ask Larry Bird for his phone number?
Obviously impossible.
So, the caller, based on his voice and tone...
"My name is Ron. Yes, I was the best defensive player last season. At the same time, I will also be your future big brother.
Now that you are in New York, don't you want to meet your future big brother in advance? "
Sure enough, this epoch-making man showed up!
Speaking of which, this was Wayne's first contact with his Pacers teammates.
"Uh... of course, Ron, thank you for inviting me out." Wayne, the socialite, would certainly not refuse Artest's invitation.
Badges or not, bonds or not... I mainly want to have good relationships with teammates.
Now that I have a better relationship with Artest, it will be easier to persuade him during the Auburn Hills incident.
Unite all the forces that can be united, and it will be easier to get along in the team.
“Well, let’s go watch tennis tomorrow afternoon. The US Open is about to start, and the tennis court will definitely be busy.
I said, you should know tennis, right? "
"Well... a little bit, a little bit." Wayne responded awkwardly. In fact, his understanding of tennis was limited to the basic rules.
"Well, come meet me in Queensbridge tomorrow... Never mind, I'm afraid you'll end up dead on the street. Let's not go to Queensbridge. Let's meet at Arthur Ashe Stadium."
After hanging up the phone, Wayne was still a little confused.
This guy Artest...actually likes to watch tennis?
That's not his style.
Or maybe this guy is just here to join in the fun.
At this time of year at the end of August, the US Open is probably the most popular and has the most viewers.
Could it be that he couldn't stand the loneliness and wanted to go to the scene to get some shots?
Wayne originally planned to leave after filming the commercial, but now plans have changed and he has to stay in New York for one more day.
In the evening, Wayne also specially looked up the history of the US Open over the years, so as to avoid the awkward staring eyes with Artest tomorrow and not being able to say anything.
The next day at noon, Wayne appeared at Arthur Ashe Stadium on time.
When Wayne was looking up information yesterday, he learned that this stadium was named after Arthur Ashe, a famous black American tennis player.
There were a lot of people at the scene. Although Wayne was wearing a pair of sunglasses, his height was too dazzling and he was still recognized by fans from time to time.
After taking 5 photos and signing countless autographs, Wayne finally entered the stadium through the VIP channel.
Alas, this is the trouble of being the MOP of the semi-finals.
When I watched tennis matches on TV before, I always felt that the tennis court didn’t seem very big.
But in fact, Arthur Ashe Stadium has 23,000 seats, which is more than the home seats of many NBA teams.
In the VIP restaurant, Wayne saw a very conspicuous and strong man sitting on a bench.
He was wearing a white vest and blue jeans, and his sturdy arms made people feel nervous.
This look... why does it look a bit like the protagonist of the GTA game that Wayne played in his previous life.
After confirming that it was Artest, Wayne walked up and prepared to say hello.
However, Artest did not notice Wayne.
He stared ahead with a dazed look in his eyes, as if he was distracted.
Wayne walked up to him, but he didn't react at all, as if he was temporarily closed in his own world.
"Ron?"
Wayne then shouted, and Artest slowly turned his head and looked at Wayne.
After staring at Wayne for about two or three seconds, Artest's eyes regained their vitality and were no longer so dull.
"Hey, what's up!" Artest's voice was very firm, and those who didn't know would think that the two were causing trouble on the street.
Even saying hello feels like starting a fight.
"Hello Ron." Wayne stretched out his right hand to Artest, but Artest bumped fists with Wayne...
"When did you come?"
"Uh... I've been standing next to you for several seconds."
"Really? Damn, the draft report says you're 2.06 meters tall, is that a joke? You can cut down the basketball net without climbing stairs." Artest stood up and found that the gap between him and Wayne was definitely more than 5 centimeters.
"Actually, I'm a little taller than what's reported."
"How much higher?"
"About five centimeters," Wayne answered truthfully.
"Haha, you've made it in, kid. This league is full of lies. Let's go to the stands. Front row tickets, remember to smile when the camera scans the stands."
After Artest finished speaking, he walked towards the stands in a good mood.
Wayne followed behind, scratching his head.
This guy… he was so dull one second, and in a good mood the next.
The mood changes too quickly.
The emotional changes of normal people are gradual from 1 to 100.
But Artest, he seems to be able to go directly from 1 to 100.
Yeah, isn't this the reason why this guy often loses control of his emotions on the court?
From 1 to 100, he explodes at any time. His mood changes so quickly that people are caught off guard.
Wayne was really afraid that this guy would suddenly start quarreling with the people around him.
After the two of them sat in the stands, Wayne realized that there were quite a few stars in the front row.
After all, tennis is a sport that is highly commercialized and popular all over the world.
"How do you feel about the team you joined?" Before the game started, Artest started chatting with Wayne.
"You're the first teammate I've met, so if I have to say how I feel about you... I don't have any feelings about the Pacers yet."
"Aren't you afraid of pressure? There are very few lottery rookies who will directly join a championship team. You know we are a championship team, right? Indianapolis is not a place to slack off."
"Well, I should be able to adapt. After all, I was a champion in college."
"Hahaha, just like Bird said, you are quite confident. However, confidence alone is not enough in the NBA. Have you seen the Eastern Conference Finals last season? This is a real battlefield."
After Artest finished speaking, two players appeared on the tennis court.
Wayne was a little stunned. He didn't expect that the first person to say these to him was Artest.
At first, Wayne thought it would be Reggie Miller who would come to talk to him, or even O'Neal Jr.
But the one who reminded himself to be prepared was Artest, the least reliable of the three.
this……
"The game is about to start, Wayne, I'm so excited!" Artest said, patting Wayne on the back.
Wayne nearly died on the spot.
Damn, you’re hitting people so hard, are you used to it?
Although Wayne was speechless, he couldn't fight Artest for three hundred rounds on the spot, so he could only turn his head helplessly and look at the court.
As a result, on the court, Wayne saw an old acquaintance...or to be exact, a familiar stranger - Maria Sharapova.
It turns out this was Sharapova's match.
Oh yeah, it’s the US Open now, no wonder she’s in New York.
Artest took off his sunglasses and looked like he knew a lot about basketball: "Wade, which side do you think will win?"
"Sharapova, after all, she just won Wimbledon."
"Oh? Really?" Artest's reaction was calm.
Really? So you don’t know... Do you really like watching tennis?
Wayne thought that Artest would analyze the strengths and weaknesses of the two people for him, but Artest remained silent.
No matter how Wayne looked at it, he felt...that this guy seemed to be just here to join in the fun!
"Wei, do you know what is the most important thing when watching a tennis game?" After a moment of silence, Artest spoke earnestly.
"What?"
"Come on, close your eyes."
"ah?"
"Listen to me, Wei, close your eyes."
"Oh oh..." Wayne was speechless. Could it be that Artest was going to play a prank on the rookie in front of so many people?
At this time, the game on the tennis court has begun, and Sharapova also made her signature roar while hitting the tennis ball.
"How is it? Do you feel it?"
"What a feeling." Wayne was going crazy. Artest during this period was really like a lunatic.
"Focus, Wei, and listen carefully. Before watching the game, let's listen to the most charming roar on the earth. This is the essence of a tennis match!"
Wayne was stunned. Is this the essence of the tennis game that Artest talked about?
Xiu'er, it's such a waste of your talent to play basketball!
It's a pity that you don't study something else with your imagination.
In fact, before playing basketball, Artest really thought about doing something else.
At first he thought about becoming a drug dealer, but on the day of his first transaction his legs were shaking so much that he ran away. He was totally not cut out for this job, so he had no choice but to change his path.
Later he wanted to be a rap singer, but his "heavenly voice" almost attracted neighbors to smash his stereo several times.
Artest had no choice but to embark on the path of basketball.
What a waste of talent. What a waste of talent.
Wayne opened his eyes speechlessly, while Artest beside him looked like he was enjoying it.
Mr. Ron's understanding of tennis is truly unique.
After that, Wayne and Artest watched...and listened to a tennis game.
The match was very tough, and Sharapova, who had just won the Wimbledon championship, had a tough battle in the first round.
At the end of the game, Sharapova hit the ball hard and it bounced off the ground and flew straight into the stands .
Wayne looked at the fluorescent tennis ball coming towards him, and quickly reached out and grabbed the ball, thus avoiding being hit on the head by the tennis ball.
The big screen at the scene also gave a close-up of Wayne and Artest next to him.
"Wade, look, we're being captured by the camera, hahahaha. Did you know that this game is being broadcast live across the US? We made a profit, this trip was not in vain!" Artest said, making a scissors gesture to the camera.
When Sharapova saw the familiar faces on the big screen, she couldn't help but look for "old friends" in the audience.
Wayne waved gently at Sharapova and threw the tennis ball down again.
After a short interlude, the game continued.
This small interruption seemed to have changed Sharapova's luck, and she played better and better afterwards.
In the end, Sharapova took advantage of the momentum of Wimbledon to defeat Laura Granfoll, who was playing at home, and ended this tense game, advancing to the next round.
"Oh, what a pity." Artest shook his head, not sure whether he felt sorry for the American player being eliminated or for not being able to hear that charming roar again.
After the game, Wayne and Artest stood up and planned to leave the stadium directly.
Seeing that Artest still had an expression that showed he understood basketball very well, Wayne was full of admiration.
At this moment, Sharapova ran to Wayne's stand, shouted, and threw a tennis ball up.
"Thanks for the lucky shot."
After saying that, the sweaty tennis girl left and prepared to be interviewed by reporters.
Wayne caught the tennis ball and shrugged.
Lucky tennis ball?
Come to think of it, the game really seemed to have turned around when I dropped the ball...
"Hey, do you know that girl?" Artest narrowed his eyes, as if he was re-examining Wayne.
"Not really an acquaintance, we just filmed a commercial together yesterday."
"Tsk, tsk, if I were you I'd call her right now and ask her out tonight to celebrate. I bet you $5,000 that she won't say no."
"Unfortunately, I don't have her phone number."
"Hey, you're a failed man. Forget it, let's go to the nightclub to have some fun tonight. I'll take you around New York."
"Thanks, Ron, but I have to go back to continue my training tonight. Besides, I can't drink casually right now. Next time, next time for sure."
"Training? It's vacation now, right?" Artest's tone was full of surprise. Are there really fools in this world who don't relax during the vacation but instead intensify their training?
"In order to become as strong and powerful as you, I will just have to spend more time."
"Hahahaha, there aren't many people like you who speak so nicely these days. Come on, let's give those sissies of the Pistons a good beating in the new season! Well, before the new season starts, I will personally check out the results of your training."
"Well, that's what I'm here for."
The two waved goodbye outside the arena. Looking at Artest's sturdy back, Wayne sighed.
This beast directly determines the fate of the team next season.
If you don't get stronger, you won't be able to stop a fight when the time comes.
Wayne could almost feel the soreness in his muscles at the thought of opening up a safe passage between Big Ben and Artest.
“Ding~”
As soon as Artest left, the system prompt sounded in Wayne's ears.
What kind of job is this time?
