Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

Smith was willing to do anything for this young man in his eyes, and the feeling was mutual. Jordan was lucky at many stages of his life, especially so at 18 when he entered Dean Smith's world, where he was forever changed. As a freshman, he hit a crucial open jumper that won North Carolina the NCAA championship—overnight, his life and personality were forever altered. He thought, even his name seemed to have changed—from Mike Jordan to Michael Jordan.

This could have intoxicated some players, causing them to bask in self-adulation and then completely lose themselves. Most players would reach the peak of their careers on such a night, only to fall faster than a shooting star, unless they had someone like Dean Smith to tell them which aspects of their game still needed improvement. The day after the championship, Jordan showed up at the North Carolina gymnasium to practice shooting as his coach had instructed.

Needless to say, Dean Smith's arrival ensured the Wizards won the game that night.

From now on, they were determined to catch up.

By the time April arrived, they were just two wins away from the Magic.

Next was the crucial game for playoff positioning against the Magic. Win it, and the gap would be just one game, with everything still possible.

Lose, and the gap would extend to four.

As it turned out, McGrady dominated the game, and the Bucks also defeated the Spurs that night to return to the top of the League.

Then, everything happened in the media room.

Jordan had to listen yet again to news about the Bucks topping the League, forced to respond to questions related to Yu Fei, knowing this was just the beginning. Those question-asking bastards would question their motives and purpose in trading Yu Fei the next day.

Everyone knew that in D.C., Jordan played the dual role of owner and general manager, so the trade of Yu Fei was necessarily connected to him.

His relationship with Yu Fei was notoriously poor, so everyone guessed the reason for Yu Fei's trade.

It was a personal vendetta.

The great Michael Jordan, for the sake of personal grievances, had disregarded the long-term interests of the team, sending away a promising superstar. Was that the act of a damned dog?

The better Yu Fei played, the fiercer the questions about Jordan became.

Jordan had misjudged one thing.

He thought if they won tonight, Yu Fei and the Bucks' outcome wouldn't matter. What people really cared about was whether the Wizards were good or not.

They lost, so they were not good.

Unfortunately, the media's attention never chased Jordan; it only chased the stars.

Even if Jordan himself went 6 for 18, he still had a reason to hold his teammates accountable.

Had they really fallen so low that they needed this old man to score 40 points every night just to win?

Jordan raged in the locker room, "I could have stayed at home playing golf. I don't need to accompany you assholes here to be humiliated! If you don't want to play, then get the fuck off the court! If you want to play, then from now on, you're going to play tough games, and if you're not mentally prepared for that, then you have no business playing professional basketball!"

"Don't think I'm threatening you!" At this moment, Jordan was a man-eating beast, his innate human beastliness erupting, "I have plenty of options, damn it, but playing well is your only way out. If you don't want to fight, I can just sit back and smoke a cigar. I'll be damned @#￥@#"

Jordan's roaring and swearing reflected another of his privileges.

Since his championship days, he had the privilege of the elite to freely humiliate underperforming teammates, just like he had berated Horace Grant on the plane for being too lousy to deserve the plane meal, telling Scottie Pippen with a headache to take a damned aspirin and then play, and telling others not to pass to Bill Cartwright because he couldn't score⑴.

At this moment, he was completely aligned with his Bulls era, yet utterly against his original intention of making a comeback. He returned in the guise of teaching youngsters, only to play the long-standing role of tyrant and dictator.

There were seven games left in the regular season. In the antepenultimate game, they would face Yu Fei's Bucks for the last time this season—if they didn't make the playoffs. Explore new worlds at empire

Kwame Brown looked at the calendar every day, hoping April 5th would come quickly.

He believed it would be Yu Fei's final reckoning with Jordan.

Before that day, the Wizards had a record of one win and one loss, while their playoff rivals, the Magic, had won two and lost one—leaving the Wizards with only a theoretical success in advancing.

The Magic had four games left, the Wizards five. The Magic had to lose all four, and the Wizards win all five, this was the only way D.C. could make it to the playoffs.

At this critical juncture where they couldn't afford to lose a single game, the arrival of the Milwaukee Bucks spelled a death sentence for many people within the Wizards.

If anyone on this planet least wanted the Wizards to make the playoffs, it was universally recognized as Yu Fei, the Bucks' star player.

On April 5, 2003, Yu Fei flew to Washington with his team.

On the plane, Trevor White, the beat reporter from the "Milwaukee Sentinel," sat next to Yu Fei and raised a question about the Wizards.

"Frye, tell me the truth, if the total is 100, how much personal emotion will you put into tonight's game?"