68: cold basketball hoop

The orange basketball spun in the air.

It seemed to carry the hopes of all of Los Angeles.

It crossed its peak and began to descend.

Its target was aimed directly at the hoop.

Everyone thought the shot would go in.

Nick Young's shooting form was textbook.

There was no one in front of him.

This was the most comfortable shooting opportunity he had ever had in his career.

The trajectory of the ball also looked flawless.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed throughout the arena.

The basketball slammed heavily against the front of the rim.

The hearts of all Lakers fans twitched violently along with that impact.

The ball didn't fall in.

It bounced high into the air.

Above the rim, it spun and struggled.

Time seemed to stretch infinitely at this moment.

Everyone looked up, watching the ball that refused to drop.

Go in!

Go in already!

Countless people were screaming in their hearts.

The ball stagnated in the air for a split second.

Then, it chose the cruelest way.

It fell down.

It landed on the outside of the rim.

Clang!

A crisp, cold sound of iron hitting iron.

In the deathly silent Staples Center, it sounded exceptionally piercing.

That sound seemed to shatter everyone's hopes.

Beep—!

Almost at the same time, the red lights on the sidelines lit up, and the final buzzer emitted a sharp, long wail.

The game was over.

The final score was frozen on the big screen at Staples Center.

110 to 111.

The Los Angeles Lakers suffered a narrow defeat by just one point.

“Aaaah!”

Nick Young clutched his head and let out a painful roar.

He looked at the bouncing ball in disbelief.

On his face, there was first shock, then blankness, and finally, it all turned into endless regret and self-blame.

His legs went weak, and he knelt directly onto the cold floor.

He blew it.

He blew it.

He blew that perfect pass from Lin Feng.

He blew the opportunity Kobe had gambled his career for.

He blew the hopes of the entire team.

He was a sinner!

On the other side of the court, it was a completely different scene.

The Minnesota Timberwolves' bench completely erupted the moment the buzzer sounded.

All the players and coaches rushed onto the court like they were crazy.

They hugged each other, jumping and roaring frantically.

Kevin Love raised his arms and let out a long howl toward the sky.

Ricky Rubio excitedly tossed the basketball into the air.

Their celebration formed the sharpest and most cruel contrast with the deathly silence on the Lakers' side.

All the cameras were focused on the losers.

A close-up was given to Nick Young kneeling on the floor.

Like a child abandoned by the whole world, he pounded the floor painfully with his fists.

Another close-up was given to Lin Feng.

The broadcast camera seemed to want to capture an expression of anger, disappointment, or blame on his face.

But there was none.

Nothing at all.

Lin Feng just stood there calmly.

He didn't look at the kneeling Nick Young, nor at the wildly celebrating opponents.

His gaze fell on the glaring scoreboard.

110 to 111.

That number was like a needle pricking his heart.

But there was no expression on his face.

The online world completely exploded the moment the game ended.

Various sports forums and social media were instantly flooded with angry comments.

“Idiot! Why pass that ball?! Shoot it yourself!”

“I'm seriously gonna puke! Passing the ball to that moron Nick Young at the final moment? Was Lin Feng's head kicked by a donkey?!”

“Afraid to attack himself at the critical moment! This is the future leader you guys are hyping up? What a softie!”

“LMAO, he stat-padded for half the game and then didn't dare take responsibility at the end, dumping the blame on his teammate. What a pro move!”

“Lin Feng must take full responsibility for this loss! One hundred percent responsibility!”

Abuse and accusations flooded in like a tide.

That choice in the final second turned him from a 'hero' candidate directly into a 'sinner.'

At the TNT broadcast table, the atmosphere was also solemn to the extreme.

“I can't understand... I really can't understand Lin Feng's final choice.”

Kenny Smith shook his head, his face full of regret and confusion.

“He has the best scoring skills in the world, he can ignore defenses, he should have finished the game himself.”

“But he chose to pass, passing it to the most unstable point on the team.”

Charles Barkley sighed, his voice carrying undisguised criticism.

“This is a leader's wrong decision. When you have the ability to end the game, you must do it yourself.”

“Placing hope on others, especially at a moment like this, is itself a form of cowardice.”

“I've already thought of the headlines for the sports sections of all the newspapers tomorrow.”

Barkley looked at the camera and said word by word.

“'The Fatal Pass: Lin Feng's Wrong Choice Buries Lakers' Playoff Hopes.'"

On the court.

The Lakers players recovered from the shock of the loss.

Gasol stepped forward and leaned down, wanting to pull the kneeling Nick Young up.

“Nick, get up, it's not your fault.”

His voice was very gentle.

But Nick Young just shook his head, like a puppet, with no reaction.

Artest also walked over and patted Nick Young's shoulder.

Howard stood to the side, watching this scene, and irritably ripped off his headband.

No one knew how to comfort this teammate who had already collapsed.

The responsibility for the loss was like a mountain pressing down on Nick Young, making him unable to breathe.

Kobe stood not far away; he didn't speak.

His gaze bypassed everyone and landed on Lin Feng.

He saw Lin Feng's incredible pass.

He also saw Lin Feng's currently terrifyingly calm expression.

Others didn't understand.

But he did.

He knew why Lin Feng passed.

That ball wasn't passed to Nick Young; it was passed to the entire locker room.

Unfortunately, the God of Basketball wasn't on their side today.

The corner of Kobe's mouth curled into a bitter arc that no one noticed.

The road to becoming a leader is never smooth sailing.

Just as everyone was surrounding Nick Young, at a loss.

Just as the reporters on the scene were carrying their cameras, preparing to rush over and record this dramatic scene.

Lin Feng moved.

He stepped forward and walked through the crowd.

He didn't look at Gasol, nor did he pay attention to his other teammates.

He walked straight to the front of Nick Young.

Nick Young was still kneeling on the ground, his head buried deep between his arms, his whole body trembling slightly.

He didn't dare look up, didn't dare look at anyone.

He felt like he was the sinner of all Los Angeles.

Just as he was sinking into endless self-blame and despair.

A pair of sneakers appeared in his line of sight.

Immediately after, a hand reached out toward him.

That hand was slender and powerful.

Quietly, it hovered in front of him.