Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

Collins stuttered a bit, his face already resembling Biden's, now seeming even more like it did twenty years later, but this wasn't panic—it was a defensive caution and care, "Oh, that, it could have been in New York (Opening night), I was thinking at the time, maybe Michael was hurt."

"Didn't you notice any problems with Michael before the preseason?"

This aggressive questioning made Collins feel like a criminal, his discontent with Flynn shot up, yet he had to address the question: "This... uh, you know Michael, you know he won't tell you if there's anything wrong."

"I have other matters to attend to."

Flynn had more questions, but Collins walked away.

So, Flynn asked Collins' assistant coach John Bach, "Can I ask Doug a few more questions about MJ?"

Bach went to ask Collins, who replied: "He doesn't want to be interviewed."

"I'll keep asking him," Flynn insisted.

Bach shrugged his shoulders, indicating it was out of his hands.

Flynn stood to the side, watching Collins pretend to observe the players' training, waiting for an opportunity until Collins decided to walk back. Flynn confronted him again: "Grover and Michael didn't tell you about the tendinitis?"

"We've never discussed anything of the sort."

Visible displeasure began to surface on Collins' face.

"You really didn't notice anything at all?"

"I'm not a doctor."

"Even if you're not a doctor, we can see if someone is comfortable or not."

"I haven't considered that."

"Maybe you were worried that discussing it publicly would lead to widespread media coverage?"

Collins' face darkened as if contemplating how to answer, then he found a response: "Michael is in such a position that if he had tendinitis, everyone would say, see, you're too old, you shouldn't have come back. No matter what he does, he's going to be criticized."

Flynn got the answer he wanted, which he would include in tomorrow's news, but he had more questions unanswered.

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"About Frye..."

"Enough!" Collins cut him off, "It's you people! You want to mess us up! You treat us like prisoners! We are under no obligation to inform you of everything that's happening! You asshole! You stalker, get away from me!"

Collins stormed off in a huff.

The commotion caught the attention of Jordan and the others.

Compared to them, the man in the eye of the storm seemed quite calm.

Yu Fei twirled the basketball on his finger, glanced over for a few seconds, and then continued practicing.

It seemed like no one in the expansive Verizon Center cared about Flynn's predicament.

As an outsider who had joined mid-way, he knew he would face such situations.

Being assigned as a beat reporter for the Wizards wasn't a business trip for Flynn, it was an exile.

He had been abandoned.

Originally, all he needed to do was watch the games, interview the Wizards' players, and write reports based on their responses. Now, he was facing up close the most arrogant, self-centered, selfish, and rude bastards in sports.

Flynn hated his job.

It's something many people don't realize; most sports journalists loathe their work. There's nothing more detestable than this, and although it's a paradox, no one would admit it, but give them a drink in a bar lacking customers, and you'll hear the truth. Those who provide you with first-hand sports information for professional, college, and high school sports deep down wish everything related to sports, other than the NCAA tournament, would completely disappear from the world.

This job, besides turning someone into a cynic and miserable bastard, had little else to offer. What's worse, for the rest of your life, no one would have a normal conversation with you. You'd either meet people who wanted to talk about sports or those who thought you wanted to talk sports. Strangers would complain to you about Rasheed Wallace's uncontrollable temper as if he were a person with mania, your girlfriend's father would invariably ask you bizarre questions about the Washington Commanders, whereas you'd rather discuss geopolitics in the Middle East. Unfortunately, as a sports journalist, no one wants to hear your political opinions.

This was Flynn's life.

As he wallowed in self-pity and fantasized about blowing up the Verizon Center, Yu Fei sat down beside him.

"Do you want to do an interview?" Yu Fei said, "I have some time."

※※※

Today, Jordan didn't participate in training; he had more important matters at hand.

The so-called important matter was naturally the trade of Yu Fei.

Jordan was determined to trade Yu Fei, but he hadn't received any offers to his liking.

The Miami Heat's proposed deal with an unrestricted free agent and three first-round picks seemed nice, but what use did Jordan have for three first rounds?

He wanted immediate strength, able to help him win from the get-go, and moreover, this strength must conform to his leadership. A troublemaker like Yu Fei was unacceptable.

The situation only progressed when Bryan Colangelo from the Phoenix Suns called, "Michael, we're old friends, I know your concerns, and I know what D.C. needs. So, here's my offer: Penny, Rodney Rogers, and next year's first-round pick for Frye and Christian Laettner."