Chapter 26

"Good job, bro." Derek Rose walked over and gave Yang Mo a hearty high-five.

There were still more than three minutes left in the game, and the point difference had narrowed to just thirteen. It wasn't impossible to catch up and win.

"Hey, Chinaman, your rebounding is pretty good." Westbrook also gave Yang Mo a thumbs up, teasing, "You look about the same as me, yet you can play power forward. Do all Chinese only play in the paint?"

"Go to hell, ugly duckling, I can shoot threes too." Yang Mo laughed and scolded.

"Am I not handsomer than you?" Westbrook leaned in, his big mouth flapping, splattering Yang Mo with spit.

Yang Mo quickly dodged and asked Derek Rose and Eric Gordon, "Do you think he's handsome?"

Both shook their heads in unison, perfectly in sync.

"You guys have a problem with your taste." Westbrook seductively wiped the sweat from his forehead, looking like the only sober one in a room full of drunks.

This made Yang Mo gag in protest, and the other three teammates also felt queasy.

With a face like a ninja turtle, how could he have the nerve to call himself handsome? It was outrageous!

Joking aside, the camaraderie among the group grew closer through this banter. They were all in their early twenties, making it easy for them to bond.

Ding!

Soon, Beasley made a lineup adjustment, taking Randolph out and bringing in Gallinari, a three-point shooter. Now, Beasley's team consisted of O.J. Mayo, Gallinari, Michael Beasley, JaVale McGee, and Brook Lopez. Except for O.J. Mayo, all were over six feet eight inches tall.

On Rose's team, the tallest, Batum, was only six feet seven. Yang Mo, the only interior player, was six feet five, and the other three guards were all six feet three.

If analyzed by height alone, they were clearly at a disadvantage.

But basketball isn't just about height; chemistry on the court is more important. Since Yang Mo came in, Rose's team had transformed from a disorganized group into a strong team, with everyone working together. This cohesion was something Beasley's team couldn't match.

When the game resumed, Yang Mo's team continued with the zone defense.

But Brook Lopez, who had lost face, immediately positioned himself against Yang Mo and signaled for the ball, preparing to go one-on-one.

As Lopez moved to position himself, Yang Mo sensed his intention and immediately instructed the team to switch from zone to man-to-man. Although Lopez was tall, he lacked strength and his movements were slow and mechanical.

Yang Mo was confident he could handle him.

Yang Mo firmly held his ground against Lopez. Despite his height and weight advantage, Lopez was struggling. O.J. Mayo, not a pure point guard, took several seconds to pass the ball under Westbrook's pressure.

Seeing the ball coming, Lopez increased his strength, firmly positioning himself against Yang Mo, fearing another backdoor play.

As Lopez's force increased, Yang Mo had a plan. He didn't try to front Lopez but instead increased his own force, causing Lopez's center of gravity to shift backward. When Lopez's weight was partially on Yang Mo, he suddenly released the pressure.

With Yang Mo's force gone, Lopez lost his balance and fell backward. The ball was right in front of him, but his hands were moving away from it.

At that moment, Yang Mo quickly darted forward, snatched the ball, and shouted, "Fast break!"

Derek Rose had already sprinted past half-court. Yang Mo quickly lobbed the ball forward, and Rose caught it just inside the three-point line, finishing with a simple and clean layup.

"Like mercury flowing, a perfect transition." Michael Jordan slapped his thigh and praised, "Amazing chemistry, I can't believe it's their first time playing together."

Michael praised the on-court chemistry, but his assistant was puzzled and asked, "Boss, was that defense really okay?"

"What's wrong with it?" Michael Jordan turned his head and asked.

"It was too devious, he deliberately released the force." The assistant said with disdain, disapproving of such tactics.

Michael Jordan chuckled and said, "You think it's devious, but I think it's smart. This kid has defensive wisdom. He'll be an excellent low-post defender, rebounder, and locker room leader."

"Is he that good?" The assistant asked, puzzled. "His height..."

Before he could finish, Michael Jordan interrupted, "Height isn't everything. I just saw him grab an offensive rebound and score over a seven-footer, and he didn't miss a single defensive rebound, disrupting an opponent's play. Since he came in, he's already put up a 7-0 run in just half a minute..."

Hearing his boss praise Yang Mo so highly, the assistant had a bad feeling and quickly asked, "Boss, you're not thinking of drafting him, are you?"

"Why not?" Michael Jordan shrugged, seeing no reason to stop himself.

"If you draft him, everyone will laugh at your judgment..."

"Aren't they already laughing? I guarantee, this time, no one will laugh at me." Michael Jordan said confidently.

The assistant slapped his forehead, feeling defeated. He knew he had to stop this, or the entire Bobcats team would become a laughingstock in the league.

Meanwhile, the game continued. O.J. Mayo brought the ball up the court and passed to Michael Beasley, who immediately broke through Gordon's defense and charged into the paint. Just as he was about to spin past Yang Mo, who was outside the key, Yang Mo suddenly vanished.

Seeing Yang Mo disappear, Beasley immediately went for a dunk.

Suddenly, a black shadow appeared from the side... He quickly pulled back the ball... Smack! As he pulled back, he felt a tingling in his arm and lost control of the ball.

Just as he thought the play was over... Ding!

The referee blew the whistle, turned around, and pointed at Yang Mo, indicating a hand-checking foul.

"I fouled?!" Yang Mo, seeing the gesture, slammed the ball to the ground and rushed over, incredulous, "Did I foul?"

Seeing Yang Mo approaching aggressively, the referee quickly stepped aside, fearing a beating. After all, this wasn't an official game, and getting hit by a player might not result in compensation or a suspension. Most importantly, he hadn't clearly seen if Yang Mo's hand had actually hit Beasley's.

The referee, scared, stepped aside, and Rose, thinking Yang Mo was going to hit the referee, rushed over to hold him back, "Calm down! Calm down!"

There was no issue at first, but the referee's retreat and Rose's intervention caused a problem.

The referee dropped his whistle and said, "I'm out, you guys play on."

With that, he ran off.

The general managers on the sidelines shook their heads, thinking Yang Mo was a troublemaker. They had initially been interested in him, but this incident changed their minds.

"Come back, I didn't mean to hit you, we're not done yet." Yang Mo's voice called out, but the temporary referee didn't look back, genuinely scared by Yang Mo.

A good game turned sour when the referee ran off. Beasley's team lost the will to continue, knowing their momentum had been broken. They preferred to end it while they were still ahead.

Beasley's team decided to quit, but Rose's team insisted on finishing, demanding a clear winner. However, the other team refused, no matter what.

With no other choice, the game ended there.

The five players on Rose's team were frustrated, feeling like they were about to reach a climax when someone poured cold water on them.

"Sorry, it's my fault." Yang Mo took responsibility.

The other four were silent for a moment, then Rose walked over and patted Yang Mo's shoulder, "Bro, don't say that. We're a team. We'll win back one by one. We'll never lose to those big guys."

After Rose spoke, the other players also came over to comfort Yang Mo. The more they did, the more uncomfortable Yang Mo felt, wishing he had been scolded instead.

Just as Yang Mo was feeling very low, a voice came from behind, "Hey, Chinese kid, got a minute to chat?"

The five turned to see Michael Jordan smiling at them.

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