Chapter 677 - 56 Long River_2

Ah Gan is an extremely efficient player with very few errors; his on-court efficiency outclasses his opponents by two levels.

He isn’t a shooter who scores every shot—no such player exists in the world. There are always moments when the ball doesn’t go in.

But whenever the game reaches a critical juncture, when all fans realize "This shot must go in, or we’re done for," Guoyang always steps up and puts the ball in the basket.

From 1985 to 1990, he time and again met the fans’ expectations, seldom letting down those who liked him.

That’s truly remarkable because, for the average person, becoming accustomed to disappointment is an essential skill to develop.

In a life where things often don’t go as planned, having a sportsman who always meets your expectations generates immense emotional energy.

"He’s not just a basketball player," Wu Zhixiong, who has spent many years in the NBA and later became a senior basketball reporter, editor-in-chief, and sports biographer for ESPN, summarized: "Before him, no athlete had been able to do what he did. He broke many business norms, shattered a lot of discrimination and racial prejudices, and became an icon of popular culture, an athlete with a totemic spirit."

"It’s not just about victories and championships, which are of course necessary, but more importantly, it’s his demeanor, his approachability, his reliability, his loyalty... Well... His achievements are lofty, but he himself is not aloof. On the contrary, he is right by the fans’ side. Can you believe it? In a country fraught with racial segregation, in a country where Asians are generally overlooked, almost every teenager’s room has a poster of Ah Gan in their study or bedroom, something neither Ali nor Babe Ruth managed to achieve."

"He shaped a generation of Americans’ memories of basketball and victory. Everyone affectionately calls him Ah Gan or Sonny, not by his full name."

While Wu Zhixiong was making this summary, he cast his thoughts back to February 15, 1990, at the Chicago Stadium.

In the player’s tunnel, Wu Zhixiong was trying to squeeze into the Trail Blazers’ locker room to conduct a pre-game interview with Guoyang.

After the All-Star game, the Trail Blazers had just played against the Supersonics, took one day of rest, and then headed straight to Chicago for the second major battle of the season with the Bulls.

Another Gan vs. Joe showdown, as hotly anticipated as ever; the visitor’s locker room was so packed that Wu Zhixiong couldn’t squeeze in.

Back in the first Gan vs. Joe showdown in 1985, Wu Zhixiong, then a reporter for the Los Angeles Times, conducted an exclusive interview with Guoyang.

At that time, he took money from Avia and Nike to help hype up the duel between the two.

Now, five years later, media hype is no longer needed; the heat of the competition between the two teams has become incredibly intense.

A two-match showdown between Gan and Joe in a single season, with the battle in Chicago always being the most eye-catching.

Because in Portland, where the Trail Blazers were naturally superior, they often crushed the Bulls at home, giving the Bulls no chance.

The Bulls only had a fighting chance when they returned to their lair in Chicago, catching their breath to battle against the Trail Blazers.

So the Gan vs. Joe showdown in Chicago often turned out to be the most classic, always producing remarkable games.

Media reporters were countless before and after the game, hoping to get even a glimpse of the two superstars—a guarantee for TV ratings and newspaper and magazine sales.

A few years earlier, Wu Zhixiong found a reporter job at the Los Angeles Times by his identity as Ah Gan’s high school teammate, but his career had been constrained by his profession and skin color, showing little progress over the years.

Wu Zhixiong, who made his first "golden bucket" from journalism through Ah Gan, didn’t want to stop at Ah Gan, didn’t want to hang on to the title of "Ah Gan’s former teammate," living off "Ah Gan’s secrets."

He had great ambitions; he wanted to be a comprehensive, in-depth sports reporter, to fully grasp the pulse of North American professional sports.

However, after several years of setbacks, he found that aside from the big name of Ah Gan, he had nothing to rely on.

With Ah Gan’s growing accomplishments, Wu Zhixiong realized that if he could deeply dig into Ah Gan’s basketball life, he would effectively capture the development trajectory of the NBA.

So, at the start of this season, Wu Zhixiong, now working for ESPN, started again from the bottom as a junior reporter, continuing to track and delve into Guoyang’s basketball life.

But now, the signboard of "Ah Gan’s former teammate" wasn’t so useful anymore, because there were too many of Guoyang’s former teammates, and too many people were crowding around him.

While Wu Zhixiong was at a loss, he saw Coach Beelman. He hurried over and greeted him: "Coach! Bobby! It’s me!"

Beelman looked at Wu Zhixiong, furrowed his brow for a moment, and then remembered—it was Wu Zhixiong, the former forward from Beiqiao High School’s basketball team.

"Daxiong, what are you doing in the player’s tunnel? Did Jerry West give you a short contract?"

"Don’t joke, coach, I wanted to interview Ah Gan before the game, but I’m late, and I can’t even squeeze in."

"You should’ve called to make an appointment beforehand. Even I have to book to arrange tactics in the locker room now, otherwise I can’t use the whiteboard," joked Beelman.

"If there are too many appointments, it’s as good as none. Just pass a message for me, Bobby, how about I arrange a post-game interview?"

"Forget it, come in with me," said Beelman as he pulled Wu Zhixiong into the locker room, bellowing, "All of you locusts get out! A team only has 12 players; am I coaching a football team now? Make way, make way!"