You are the pearl, Mo Mengchen

Chapter 71

That night, 21:00
Triangle Center
"Die, Detroit bastards!"

A giant banner poster is placed in the eye-catching center of the arena.

It stands to reason that the Pistons and the Jazz have no intersection, except for the regular season.

Because one of these two teams is in the east and the other is in the west, if they want to form a deadly feud, they can only be in the finals, but Jazz fans have extremely strong hostility towards the Pistons.

This incident is not surprising. Malone gave the smiling assassin an elbow, which caused a feud between the two parties.

At that time, the Pistons were the public enemy of the league. They lived a simple life on weekdays, and the unhappy Utah fans had a lot of drama. It was just an ordinary violent incident on the field. The conflict between the players, they escalated the matter. It has become difficult to resolve a deadly enmity.

"These fucking Mormons!"

Alan Houston stood in the center of the field, looking at the dazzling poster. His position was so eye-catching——Damn it, it was rare to see such a poster in an away game. Why did you add such words on it?
"According to me, these Utah sluts don't even have a lot of fucking dogs to be fucked by them, what is it, it's inexplicable" Terry Mills was also very depressed.

Because on that poster, his big fat head actually stood out.

Tonight, some distinguished guests came to the scene, some of whom even the owner of the Jazz, Larry Miller, would not dare to neglect.

Miller came to the VIP box in person and entertained these rare guests with delicious food and drinks.

"The fans at the scene are not very friendly." Little Du La was the only junior at the scene, and the only one who was interested in the game. The others didn't care about the result.

Miller smiled lightly: "Utah is like this. The fans are usually bored, and when they have a little bit of catharsis, they can't wait to explode. Our football market is quite hot."

Well, in such a hot football market, 100 million jersey advertisements are sold every year.

Little Doula complained in her heart, but she was still grinning.

"It's just that such a battle can certainly motivate the home team, but it is not good for the team's publicity."

Miller carefully stared at the blond woman sitting on the right seat. All beautiful women have thorns, so how sharp should her thorns be on a rich and good-looking woman?

"You're right, Mrs. Poser." Miller laughed.

Mo Mengchen and his teammates, including their opponents, did not know what kind of distinguished guests were sitting in the VIP box.

Stockton saw Mo Mengchen, and Sloan gave him a death order to keep an eye on the rookie tonight.

He felt that before staring at him dead, he should come over and say hello.

"Mo, hello."

Stockton held out his hand.

No matter when, Mo Mengchen is very resistant to shaking hands. Even if they are going to play together soon, their bodies will continue to rub against each other and exchange dirt on each other, but this does not mean that he can accept a hand of unknown origin. .

"The handshake is free."

Mo Mengchen didn't give Stockton any face.

Stockton was unsmiling, even if the juniors in front of him belittled him, he never expressed his opinion: "Very good."

As soon as his voice came out, a foul-smelling breath came out of his mouth. Has he not brushed his teeth for hundreds of years?
"The game is about to start, and I am looking forward to the confrontation between John Stockton and Dor.Mo." Keaton Wilton, the commentator at the scene, said.

His partner, Darrell Griffith, who played for the Jazz every year in his player era, was unhappy: "It's actually very simple. John will use his experience to kill the Australian rookies in Detroit."

"Oh? Why do you say that?" Wilton really wanted to hear the opinion of the jazz legend.

Griffith said: "From the statistics, the Australian rookie from Detroit is the same style of player as John. His rebounding ability is better than John's, and he is at a disadvantage in all other aspects."

downwind?you sure?

Wilton just wanted to refute a little bit to get some show effect, but Griffith's face was too ugly, so he thought about it and let it go.

Mo Mengchen entered the court together with his teammates. Tonight, the other four starters for the Pistons are Hill, Houston, Thorpe and Ratliff who temporarily replaced Terry Mills.

Recently, Ratliff has shown the potential of a future shot-blocking king during training, and his protection of the restricted area is very good. Collins wants him to try his feeling on the court.

Ratliff has the same problem as Mills, neither of them has enough length.

Therefore, whenever they need to jump the ball for the team, the teammates around them don't expect them to get the ball.

This time, it is still the case.

Jazz starting center Felton Spencer jumped up and called the ball to Stockton.

The pick-and-roll came quickly. In the first round tonight, the Jazz played their classic pick-and-roll.

Mo Mengchen followed, and Ratliff gave up Spencer and went after Stockton. He didn't expect Spencer to have a range.

Stockton sent him a comfortable hit to the ground, and Spencer made a jumper from the free throw line and hit the iron directly.

Mo Mengchen grabbed the rebound and gave it to Hill on the move. No one is more reliable than him at this moment of conversion and counterattack.

Hill is like a fierce horse running through the prairie, no one can tame it, one hit two in the frontcourt, the Jazz's wing sharpshooter Hornacek fouled him, but it was still useless, the Devil Mountain has jumped up, stretching its wings like a bird , turned into a god.

At this moment, he is a god in the air, grabbing the ball with his right hand and smashing it towards the basket frantically.

"Wow~~~"

Little Dora stood up directly in the box and shouted, "Grant Hill is just hanging!"

He embarrassed Miller in this way: "Jaquin, don't get excited, the game has just started, and our team also has people who can buckle."

"Haha, is that so? Who is it?" Little Dora asked.

"Darrell Griffith, nicknamed Dunk Freak!" Miller's proud look embarrassed the subordinates behind him.

Boss, Griffith retired in 90 and is now a full-time commentator!
Stockton has bad breath, which is bad news.

The good news is that he doesn't do the constant trash talk that Miller and his ilk do, or he'd be knocked out before a game is over.

When it comes to Stockton, people will think of reasonableness, as well as the assist data and steal data he occupies.

He's the perfect traditional point guard, the favorite of all stereotypical academic coaches.

Old stubborn people like Sloan who like to use players as robots regard Stockton as their chosen son.

The Jazz's pick-and-roll system comes from UCLA. Mo Mengchen has been studying this recently, but he is very strange. From the beginning to now, only Felton Spencer has come up to block it. Let alone the pick-and-roll, there is even a decent one. No cover at all.

Suddenly, Ma Long dragged his unrealistically strong body to trap Thorpe, turning his back to get a position.

Stockton lobbed the ball over, and in an instant, the cat's lower body cut in. Just as Mo Mengchen was about to move, his position was blocked.

"Switch!" he yelled.

Ratliff's speed didn't keep up, and Stockton slipped to the basket, received a pass from Malone, and licked the basket directly to score.

"Concentration needs to be improved, rookie." Stockton spat some trash talk at Mo Mengchen.

"Oh, that's terrible," Houston said with a laugh, "our doctors have been educated."

Hill said: "Okay, don't provoke him."

Mo Mengchen was not angry at all, it was Stockton's psychological warfare, he would not be fooled, on the contrary, he still passed the ball to his teammates.

Thorpe beat Malone in the low post.

This year, Malone has the defensive ability of the best defensive team level. The old Thorpe is no longer young and brave, and it is difficult to score points against Malone. He has used one trick for more than ten years to suppress people by hitting small hooks. , and now she shows off a hot-eyed Sanbuzhan.

"Beep!"

The offense missed, Thorpe was unhurried, and an on-the-spot foul stopped the Jazz's counterattack.

"Sorry," Thorpe said.

"Is it an accident, or is it really untouchable?" Mo Mengchen asked.

Thorpe knew he had to listen to the truth, so he told the truth: "Now I don't have any confidence in singles against him."

"Understood." Mo Mengchen nodded.

Stockton came very quickly, he never entangled, and he didn't stick the ball in his hands for a long time for a better chance.

Just after Malone passed the paint zone, he passed the ball to his hands with a small angle and an extremely fine short-distance hit.

Compared with Thorpe's three non-sticks, Malone's offense was much more enjoyable. He opened the way with an iron elbow and knocked Thorpe unconscious. He was sitting at home, and the referee had no indication of his offense. Steady shot.

"Yes, John and Karl connected twice in the opening game, and they quickly found the feeling!"

"Like the poster says," Griffith said, "Detroit is dying here tonight."

His face was still stinky.

(End of this chapter)