Champion Creed

Larry Brown felt like there was a thorn in his heart, keeping him awake all night.

Following Roger's public humiliation of him, even someone as renowned as basketball columnist Bill Simmons dared to speak disrespectfully about him.

This was the second time in half a month that Larry Brown felt humiliated.

Larry Brown had never liked these so-called sports columnists; at the end of the day, they weren't in this business—they were just a bunch of people who wrote articles and inserted pictures.

If they truly understood the game, why weren't teams paying them high salaries to be head coaches? To be general managers?

So-called sports columnists are just absurd outsiders commenting on insiders.

In Larry Brown's yellowed old memories, column writers and live commentators were usually retired players or coaches.

But nowadays, many people who haven't even played high school basketball have started commenting on basketball.

Since the advent of the internet era, the voices of these people have become increasingly prominent.

Larry Brown felt more and more that he didn't understand today's world.

"Angry? No, I don't care how a nonsense writer, who doesn't understand basketball and takes jokes too far, evaluates me." The next day, facing inquiries from colleagues in the coaching staff, Larry Brown appeared indifferent.

But in truth, he felt very upset inside.

What exactly was the reason that he no longer enjoyed prestige?

What exactly was the reason that he was no longer respected?

There was only one reason—Larry Brown realized he had not won a championship for too long.

His team won the championship in NCAA back in the 80s, with Danny Manning as the MOP at that time. Now, Danny Manning had been retired for a year.

After entering the NBA, Larry Brown never touched any honor like the championship. In other words, all his glory was stalled in the 80s.

Competitive sports are a game where only winners are entitled to respect and voice; Michael Jordan's last act of brilliance was in 1993, merely 11 years ago.

Yet his influence has already declined to less than a third of what it used to be.

Larry Brown's glory came even earlier, and not in the NBA.

People have forgotten how successful he once was.

Since coaching the Spurs in '89, he's left the world more impressions of decline and regret, his teams always seemed to be just a step away.

He needs to win, desperately needs to!

He needs to lead the Dream Team to gold in the summer, using it as a springboard to work at a contending team.

He needs to shut up Roger and Bill Simmons, those decaying, stench-ridden maggots!

But unfortunately, what comes first is witnessing Roger's dazzling moment of glory.

Finals Game 6 was already considered Roger's coronation night, no one thought the Pistons could stop that omnipotent man.

In fact, Spoelstra's adjustments since Game 3 merely brought the two sides to a level playing field.

In the final moments, the one truly impacting the result of the game was always Roger.

As long as Roger doesn't mess up, the Warriors couldn't possibly lose the game.

Charles Barkley frankly said: "I know you love blue-collar legend stories, and I also love Ben Wallace. But this will be the end of the blue-collar legend, the resurgence of the Roger Dynasty!"

On the afternoon of Finals Game 6, Oakland was sunny, and a radio helicopter occasionally flew overhead, reminding people this wasn't just an ordinary day.

The bakery had just closed; John Cage finished his busy shift.

Business was still good today, ever since he danced at Oakland Arena, his bakery has been popular locally.

He perhaps wasn't aware that he might be the first in the world to earn money through the model of rubbing edges, attracting flow, and bringing merchandise.

He worked hard each day, for his family and for the baby in his wife's belly—they only found out the news two days ago, and upon hearing the news, he bought a small outfit for the child, a baby-sized Warriors No. 14 jersey.

Although the team is moving next season, he would still adamantly support the Warriors and Roger.

Having changed clothes, John Cage suggested buying some beer and snacks from the supermarket to prepare for tonight's game: "Dear, tonight will be the last page of the greatest epic in Oakland's history!"

But his wife coldly rejected: "John, is it really that interesting to watch games on TV? You're about to become a father."

"What's that got to do with fatherhood? I love basketball, I love cheering for those guys fighting on the court."

"No, John, don't watch TV at home tonight, you always turn up the volume to the max and shout loudly, it really disrupts my rest."

"But..."

"No buts, John."

With that, his wife stood up and picked up the bag on the table.

John Cage felt utterly disheartened; the sadness of a man lies in being unable to carve out even two hours of his own time in a 24-hour day.

But as the dejected John turned, he saw his wife handing him a ticket.

"Is it interesting to watch on TV? Go ahead, go to Oakland Arena, this might be the Warriors' last game here. Don't leave any regrets, John." A kindly smile spread across his wife's face, she surely knew how much her husband had sacrificed for this family.

A man can't always reward himself, he occasionally needs rewards from others.