You are the pearl, Mo Mengchen

Chapter 557 Is this the end?
Is this the end of Chapter 557?

时间：1999年6月24日星期四晚上21：00。

Location: Rose Garden Arena, Portland, Oregon, USA.

Background: When the whole world is doubting you, all you can do is prove yourself against absolute adversity - I am a legend!
Tonight, 20630 fans poured into the Rose Garden.

Thousands of fans who did not buy tickets gathered in the fan square outside the Rose Garden. They prepared champagne and beer. There were dozens of fast food trucks wandering here. They knew that during the game, the fans’ mouths were If you can't take it easy, just like you need popcorn to watch a movie, the same is true for watching a game.

In the arena, players from both sides are warming up.

Paul Allen came to the scene again. Tonight, he is very confident, because the referee of this game is still on good terms with him.

The referee's name is Dennis McKinlon, and his son works under Allen. Although the status of the two is very different, Allen is very good at using this interpersonal relationship to benefit the team.

The victory of Game3 has proved that his approach is correct.

Some people will think this is dirty, but how much of competitive sports is pure and flawless?To become a champion, in addition to having a championship team, you must also do a good job in all aspects on and off the court.

The Pistons are currently caught in a public opinion war, the backyard is on fire, and they don't get help from referees on the court. This is what they don't do well.

Paul believes they can level the score at the Rose Garden tonight.

In this year's finals, at least seven games will be played to determine the winner.

Bill Walton was very depressed. As a legend of the Trail Blazers, he brought a championship to the city. It is reasonable to stand on the team's side as a commentator, but he really likes the Pistons.

His old partner Liv Albert saw his thoughts and said with a smile: "Bill, don't think about it, the game will start soon, and whoever plays well will applaud."

Mo Mengchen walked to the field and gently rubbed the shoes under his feet.

This is the fourth generation of his personal signature sneakers. Because of the gorgeous shape, the sales volume has always been at the forefront. Tonight he will wear this pair of shoes to play this underrated game.

The Blazers' home court advantage has been said to be bad by the outside world. They have extremely strong strength in themselves, coupled with the home court advantage, no one is optimistic about the Pistons winning here.

There is an opinion that they will lose three games in a row on the road.

"It seems that you have not had a good rest recently."

After winning a game, Stoudemire's waist has also hardened, and he speaks with confidence.

Mo Mengchen glanced at him, but did not reply.

The head coach McKinlon came to the LOGO with the ball in his arms, with a fair and strict face.

Mo Mengchen had seen him and Allen talking happily before, and felt that tonight would be another difficult game.

Damn home field advantage.

This has gone beyond the general category of home court advantage, and the referees here treat the Blazers like relatives.

The ball was thrown into the air, Rashid and Sabonis jumped up at the same time, and the roof of the world caught the ball with excellent anticipation.

"Portland is off to a good start," Walton said.

As we all know, of the six games the Pistons have lost this season (including the playoffs), five of them were lost at the opening jump.

Stoudemire has the ball in half court and spreads out.

Webber fell low, Sabonis stood at the free throw line, and the other three stood in the left corner and the top of the arc.

This is the Blazers' regular offensive position.

After the line was drawn, Weber immediately pressed his body on Rashid. This guy who would never stand out in a big scene looked like he wanted to play tonight.

Weber got the ball with his back and was about to attack. He arched in, but before he could keep up, the referee whistled.

Everyone looked together.

The corner referee called Rashid a defensive foul.

"Within ten seconds into the game, Rasheed Wallace got a foul on his back," Walton said. "It's really bad news for Detroit."

Rasheed patted his head gently with both hands, which he used to calm himself down.

Mo Mengchen aggressively confronted Little Flying Squirrel without the ball. Under this kind of defense, Stoudemire had difficulty receiving the serve, and Sabonis took the risk to send the ball to Webber in the low post.

Yigao is bold. No one believed that he would give the ball to Webber in this position, and no one would ambush him in advance. Webb took the ball and turned his back to attract a double-team pass to Sabonis who was outside the three-point line in the bottom corner.

Sabonis shot a three-point jumper from the bottom corner to show the world that he can shoot from this position.

"Shh!"

3 is better than 0
Mo Mengchen stopped in the frontcourt, and Sprewell was about to put pressure on him, but saw him throw the ball with both hands and pass it to Hill, who was in a low position.

"Are you afraid?" Sprewell snorted coldly.

"I just lost interest in ravaging you." After Mo Mengchen said sourly, Hill turned around and missed a jumper.

Rashid had a chance to make a dunk, but he didn't grasp it. A chance that was a surefire chance was missed.

The Pistons got off to a rough start.

Sprewell started in full swing, and with the restlessness in the Rose Garden, counterattacked dunks and scored.

"5 to 0! This game is almost a replica of yesterday! Portland has to prove at home that they can win three games in a row!"

The hands and feet of this group are too stiff.

Wallace serves to Mo Mengchen.

Mo Mengchen turned around, and the madman was already in front of him. In the past four games, he had defended like this every round.

Even if his defense didn't prevent Mo Mengchen from scoring at all, and his passion didn't diminish at all, Sprewell did have a strong energy in him, and his physical fitness might be better than Alan Houston.

Although Houston is known as the stamina monster and the person who played the most minutes in the Pistons, he will never be entrusted with such a defensive task.

He can play from the first quarter to the middle of the second without a break, and so can Sprewell.

The difference is that one of them only does things within the scope of their responsibilities, and the other does not compromise on things within their responsibilities, and can also undertake things outside their responsibilities.

The first thing to do is to end this scoring drought.

Mo Mengchen called for a scalpel tactic, and Houston ran out of space.Mo Mengchen passed the ball in place, and the CIC king scored a jumper.

2 is better than 5
Stoudemire was about to break through, but Mo Mengchen's defense was like a fortress made of steel, blocking in front of him, no matter how many steps he wanted to move forward, it would give him a terrifying confrontation.

"Dwarves with water in their heads, do you want to attack?"

Mo Mengchen pushed Stoudemire one step beyond the three-point line, which is generally not the case for defense.

In order to strengthen the aggressiveness, Mo Mengchen didn't mind going too far.

He doesn't care if he helps or not, that's not his job, he doesn't have that much energy, he may never be a good team defender, but he's definitely a breathless single Defenders, especially for players at the same position.

The trembling Stoudemire turned around and passed the ball to Sprewell.

Sprewell had the ball in his hand, Houston was a step slower in defense, and he pulled up and shot a three-pointer.

The basketball rushed into the net with a tyrannical force, and scraped the wire in the net round and round before falling to the ground reluctantly.

8 is better than 2
"After returning to the home court, they all found their form!" Walton sighed, "Detroit will be very difficult tonight."

Sprewell wished he could give Mo Mengchen the same strength on both offense and defense.

"Are you coming again? Guess what I'm going to do to you tonight?"

Mo Mengchen's words are like the snow in severe winter, only cold, without warmth.

In the past three games, the Pistons won two of the three games. Mo Mengchen averaged 27 points, 7 rebounds and 6 assists per game.

His numbers have improved significantly from the regular season and the previous playoffs, and Sprewell's defense against him has been a failure.

But the way he blasted Sprewell was not the usual way of attacking with the ball.

In Game [-] in Auburn Hills, he knocked Madman out by moving off the ball.

In the second game of the legend of Auburn Hills, not to mention the hammer assist that was destined to become a legend in the end, Sprewell and Mo Mengchen played against each other like an orangutan with a low IQ, being played without temper.

In that game, Mo Mengchen scored another 20 points by making an air cut and covering the back door.

The Pistons lost in the third game, but Mo Mengchen scored 30 points, and Sprewell's defense failed no matter how you look at it.

That's why Mo Mengchen asked this question tonight.

How to end you?
What else do I have to do before you admit that you can't prevent me at all?
Sprewell will never admit this. He thinks that Mo Mengchen scored so many points because his teammates had too many screens and pick-and-rolls, and the Blazers' defense against screens and pick-and-rolls was a mess. He was alone How could it be possible to lock up Dor. Mo with the support of the Pistons?

This is the reason why he was so confident after being beaten for three consecutive games.

In this round, the Blazers consciously confronted and did not allow the Pistons to speed up the pace of the game and kill Sabonis.

The tactics were blocked, and Mo Mengchen got the ball from the outside.

Eight seconds left on shot clock.

"You can't do anything without anyone helping you!" the madman yelled.

Mo Mengchen looked ahead and dribbled the ball slowly.

Just after Sprewell finished speaking this trash talk, his whole temperament changed obviously. It was the cold winter, the heavy rain, the terrible will-o'-the-wisp, and the coming of the god of death.

Sprewell couldn't describe this feeling. In the blink of an eye, Mo Mengchen and Sprewell were in contact with each other. His confrontation did not suffer at all. The moment his body collided, he had already figured out what to do next, like The spinning top turned around deftly, and the unsuspecting madman crashed down.

"Beep!"

The referee McKinlon resolutely blew his whistle.

Everyone in the audience stopped.

Mo Mengchen grabbed the ball with one hand and looked at the referee.

Yes, he read that right.

"Detroit 9, hit someone with the ball!"

McKinlon made an unmistakable gesture.

The audience cheered loudly for this "wise" judgment.

Sprewell was thankful that the referee blew his whistle, otherwise the Pistons would have taken offense because of this attack.However, this was indeed a misjudgment, Mo Mengchen did not foul at all.

He looked at Mo Mengchen
Mo Mengchen's face was gloomy and his eyes were sharp, like an eagle locking its prey in the sky, or a poisonous snake sensing a crisis in the jungle.

A grim face stared at McKinlon for several seconds.

McKinlon held his whistle tightly. He played the game for more than ten years, and met many superstars who were dissatisfied with the judgment. As long as Mo Mengchen dared to act rashly, he would make him pay the price.

In the end, Mo Mengchen just stared at him.

The anxiety of not knowing what was going to happen made him shudder.

Finally, Mo Mengchen turned his face away and left like nothing happened.

Is this the end?
McKinlon thought with lingering fear.

(End of this chapter)