Champion Creed

The last time Roger played a series-deciding Game 7 was in 1999, when Paul Pierce was still a rookie and messed everything up in the final moments of Game 7.

At that time, Roger had not yet established a dynasty in Atlanta, and there was still much debate about whether he or Michael was stronger.

Now, as time flies to 2004, the once inexperienced Paul Pierce has become the new core of the Pacers after Reggie Miller. Latrell Sprewell, who once sealed the game in that decisive Game 7, has also had his experience of messing up a series-deciding game, and the controversy between Roger and Jordan has long disappeared.

From the perspective of most mainstream media, Roger now is essentially the most qualified candidate for the GOAT. After all, at the press conference at the end of the regular season, even Michael Jordan himself admitted that it was a "fact I don't want to accept but cannot change".

Every step Roger takes now is creating history, and another focal point of his games is whether he can maintain his reign.

There is always a misconception about judging the GOAT, which is only looking at how much a player has won.

In reality, another criterion that gets purposely or unknowingly overlooked is how much a player has lost.

In the original timeline, the reason everyone trusted Michael Jordan was that he lost very little during his prime.

From 1991 to 1998, the Chicago Bulls only lost to the Knicks and Magic. The time they lost to the Knicks had nothing to do with Michael Jordan because he was playing baseball then.

Six championships during his peak with minimal losses cemented Michael Jordan's unsurpassed position.

Roger is the same, holding seven championships is certainly impressive, but more impressive is that throughout his career, he has never missed the playoffs and has only lost three times in the playoffs.

When a player wins many championships, never forget how many times they were runners-up.

You can't just keep losing repeatedly in the series, then gather lots of help to win a few championships and claim to be the GOAT.

Losing too much means lacking dominance, meaning almost everyone notable in the league has beaten you at least once, and such a player can never be the true greatest in history.

So, for Roger, who has already won enough, he now needs to avoid "losing too much".

Roger could certainly choose to retire right where he stands because as long as he doesn't play, he'll never lose—just like how people love to boast that Michael Jordan never lost a finals. Well, in the entire latter half of the 90s, Michael Jordan couldn't even reach the finals because Roger beat him, so of course, he didn't lose any finals.

In Roger's view, "not playing means not losing" is akin to running away, and he won't leave this league until he tires of winning.

From another perspective, Roger is still someone who can be dethroned.

As long as he loses enough, people will have reason to strip him of the GOAT title.

And Kobe is very eager for this, as Roger still playing gives everyone a chance to surpass or ruin him.

This is exactly the kind of opportunity Kobe wants.

He could lose Game 7 in 1999, and he could lose again in 2004.

No one cared about what Spoelstra said before because no one in this world can simultaneously have Kevin Garnett's defensive impact and top offensive capabilities in one game.

All the journalists and the Lakers coaching staff regarded Spoelstra's words as mere intimidation to boost morale.

Rookie coaches like to bluff, thinking it can confuse their opponents.

On the night of Game 7, in the Lakers' locker room, Kobe Bryant was changing into his game jersey.

Unlike most team leaders, Kobe had a distant relationship with almost everyone in the Lakers' locker room.

He never wanted to talk to his teammates about what happened in Colorado, and his teammates dared not ask due to his aloof attitude.

Throughout the season, personal conversations he had with his teammates in the locker room didn't amount to more than ten sentences.

Nevertheless, he never provoked anyone again as he had once annoyed Shaq.

Kobe Bryant was like someone with a dual personality, keeping his life and the game distinctly separate.

Therefore, you couldn't expect him, as the team leader, to give a rousing speech before such a critical battle.

He would always quietly do what he needed to do, gaining his teammates' trust and having them follow him through his actions and performance.

For Phil Jackson, this was enough for Kobe to lead the team.

The Zen Master didn't need his players to be like family, nor did he need to preach "heart of a champion" like Tomjanovich.

He only needed his locker room's "staircase theory" to remain intact, needing everyone to acknowledge that Kobe was at the top of the staircase and to perform their roles for Kobe, ensuring the team ran smoothly.

So before the battle, the Lakers' locker room was calm, very calm, calm like someone had lit up a cigarette post-coitus.

But everyone knew that after this unique calm, there would be a tempest led by Kobe!

On the other side, the Warriors' locker room was entirely different.

The whole locker room was bustling, with everyone cheering each other on, shouting and yelling.