Chapter 48

On the evening of November 3rd, the Barclays Center was packed to the brim, with over 23,000 seats filled, and even some people squeezed into the aisles, making it feel like the Spring Festival travel rush. This was the best news the Nets' owner could have hoped for, as it was the first time since Jason Kidd left the team. Therefore, he sincerely hoped that Yang Mo would come more often. Regardless of how much the fans disliked Yang Mo, he genuinely liked him and welcomed his frequent visits.

Amid the noisy cheers of the fans, the game officially began. When the visiting team's players were introduced, the Miami Heat players were met with a torrent of boos. At this moment, Pat Riley, sitting next to Yang Mo, whispered a reminder: "Don't be nervous, it's always like this on the road. Just block out the boos."

"It's fine," Yang Mo smiled and shook his head calmly. "The louder they boo, the more afraid they are of us."

Yang Mo's composure surprised Pat Riley, who had never seen a rookie with such a strong nerve. Even Michael Beasley had appeared somewhat uneasy during the home game the previous day.

The game soon started, and neither team had their main protagonists in the starting lineup. The Heat's starting lineup consisted of Magloire, Haslem, Michael Beasley, Dwyane Wade, and Mario Chalmers.

The New Jersey Nets' starting lineup was Swift, Yi Jianlian, Bobby Simmons, Vince Carter, and Devin Harris.

Beep!

As the referee blew the whistle to start the game, the basketball was thrown straight up from the center of the court. Magloire and Swift jumped simultaneously... Smack! The athletic Swift managed to tip the ball to the side before Magloire, but Dwyane Wade got control of the ball before Vince Carter.

Then... Beep!

Dwyane Wade called a timeout.

This unexpected move stunned the entire arena. Everyone was puzzled about what had happened to Dwyane Wade. Had he been injured?

Amid the speculation, Magloire walked off the court, and Yang Mo took off his warm-up jacket and walked onto the court. Instantly, a wave of boos and curses washed over him, including racial slurs like "Yellow pig, go home."

Yang Mo remained unperturbed, his mind calm. He muttered to himself, "Go ahead, curse! You'll get your lesson."

This was Pat Riley's plan. He didn't want Yang Mo to start the game because he wanted him to walk onto the court alone, defeat all the mocking and contempt with his own strength, and prove to the world that Yang Mo was not a fraud and that Pat Riley was not senile.

After high-fiving his teammates, Yang Mo approached Swift. Pat Riley had carefully chosen Swift as the stepping stone for Yang Mo. They had discussed the Nets' starting lineup on the plane the previous night, and Swift, known for his athleticism, was the easiest opponent in the Nets' frontcourt. Therefore, he was the best target for Yang Mo to start with.

"Shorty, are you following me to get dunked on?" Swift taunted Yang Mo with a look of disdain.

Yang Mo smiled coldly and replied, "I want to beat you so badly you'll cry."

"Then come on!" Swift said dismissively, not taking Yang Mo seriously at all.

Seeing Yang Mo follow Swift, all the so-called experts watching the game were dumbfounded: What is he doing? His height is barely enough for a power forward, and he's trying to play center. Is he eager to be dominated by Swift?

No one believed that Yang Mo could gain any advantage against Swift. Swift was known for his athleticism, while Yang Mo's physical test results were considered subpar in the NBA. The comparison was clear.

Meanwhile, Chinese fans clenched their fists, eager to see if their compatriot had the skills. Among the millions of viewers, Monkey and his friends were particularly excited. This was their brother, the one they had played basketball with for four years, now standing on the highest stage of the sport. How could they not be excited?

Beep!

The referee blew the whistle, and the game resumed.

The moment the whistle blew, Yang Mo sprinted towards the basket. Swift was still confused when Dwyane Wade, who was throwing the ball in from out of bounds, passed it into the key. The Nets' key was empty, and Yang Mo, who had charged into the paint, leaped high, caught the ball in mid-air, and slammed it with all his might... Boom!

The rim resonated with a deafening sound, which was especially impactful through the microphones.

The moment Yang Mo slammed the ball with thunderous force, the noisy arena fell silent. Everyone held their breath as the rim shook violently.

Sss!

Yang Mo lightly jumped down from the rim, then looked around with a domineering gaze and placed his index finger to his lips: Shh!

Beep!

Yang Mo's provocative gesture quickly earned him his first technical foul in the NBA. This was followed by a hurricane of boos and curses from the crowd.

Yang Mo smiled, unfazed. This was exactly what he wanted. It was too much fun to get over 20,000 people in the arena to bark like dogs with a small gesture.

Yang Mo, despite the boos and curses, ran back to half-court with a smile on his face.

When this scene was broadcast in China, the nation erupted in excitement. Too cool! Too domineering! This is what a Chinese man should be!

While the fans found Yang Mo's behavior domineering, the CCTV commentator was at a loss for words. He tried to contain his excitement and said, "Yang Mo's dunk was excellent and very satisfying. When he dunked, his defender was still at the three-point line, showing his excellent offensive awareness. However... his final gesture was a bit too uncontrolled."

Although the commentator said it was uncontrolled, he was secretly cheering: Yes, that's how you should boo those idiots and show them that we Chinese are not to be messed with.

But these words were too disharmonious, and as the most harmonious TV station, they had to keep it in check to keep their jobs.

The commentator had to be cautious, but Monkey and his friends, as Yang Mo's brothers, shouted wildly: "F*ck! Brother Mo is awesome! Crush those Americans, f*ck them!"

"Finally, after two months of the draft, we can finally let off some steam," said Monkey.

Pat Riley, sitting on the sidelines, was also emotionally stirred. The pressure he had endured over the past two months was no less than Yang Mo's. Now, Yang Mo's powerful dunk proved that his judgment was correct. The silencing gesture also vented his own frustrations. He even wanted to stand up and do the same gesture or give the middle finger to the entire crowd.

But... as a gentleman who always kept his hair slick and shiny, he couldn't do such an unrefined thing in public.

"Do you see that? That's Yang, that's Pat Riley's victory," Michael Jordan, watching the live broadcast, said angrily to his assistant. He regretted not trading with the Bucks earlier, as that would have made Yang Mo his player.

"But... that was just a surprise attack, right?" the assistant said weakly.

As soon as he finished speaking, the TV showed a scene... Yang Mo leaped high and viciously swatted Swift's shot out of bounds, followed by a loud roar.

"How... is this possible?" the assistant couldn't believe his eyes.

At this moment, the TV was replaying the scene. After Swift returned to half-court, he immediately demanded the ball to challenge Yang Mo. As a veteran in the NBA, he couldn't let himself be humiliated by a rookie without a response. Devin Harris, seeing him demand the ball, passed it to him.

The moment Swift received the ball, he tried to push past Yang Mo and dunk using his height and jumping advantage. However, he underestimated Yang Mo's strength. The moment he received the ball, Yang Mo, who had been holding back, released all his strength. At the same time, Swift also pushed against Yang Mo... Thud!

Swift was immediately pushed back a step, and before he could regain his footing, Yang Mo pressed against him continuously, using his strength to push him back. Swift had no room to jump, let alone dunk. He was being pushed further and further away from the basket, almost out of the paint.

At this moment, if he passed the ball to a teammate, Swift would never be able to hold his head up again. He had demanded the ball to challenge Yang Mo, but now he couldn't even get the space to jump, which was like trying to show off and getting humiliated.

In the instant before being pushed out of the paint, he gritted his teeth and attempted a turnaround jump shot... Unfortunately, due to the lack of jumping space, he couldn't jump at all. As he barely managed to jump and shoot, Yang Mo leaped like a hungry wolf... Smack! His long arm slapped the ball fiercely, sending it to the sixth row of the stands, where it hit a fat fan in the face, causing blood to flow.

After landing, Yang Mo roared to the sky and then shouted in Chinese, "Nets fans, f*ck you! Keep booing! Keep booing! Go to hell!"

Yang Mo's voice was very loud, and although the audience didn't understand, the sound was transmitted to the TV in China, where the commentators were stunned. They didn't know how to comment, as it was too disharmonious.

However, the fans watching on TV cheered wildly. It was so satisfying! They wanted to curse those damn fools!

...

[Chapter 5 is here. This chapter took a bit longer to write, so it's already the next day. This means you have new recommendation tickets, so please vote for me. This is just the beginning, and I will write even more intensely! Crush those damn fools!]