professional shooting guard

Chapter 44 Trash Talk
This game is not easy to play!
Jim Burnheim has never underestimated Duke, in fact no one has ever dared to underestimate Duke.

Jim Burnham also planned to take advantage of Parker's injury and Zhang Zifeng's slump to take advantage of the opportunity to defeat the chaotic Duke University.

But the actual situation is still far beyond his expectations.

Although the game has just started, Zhang Zifeng feels hot and aggressive today.

Grant was provoked and lost his mind at the start of the game. He even kept entangled with Zhang Zifeng, completely disregarding tactics, and disrupted Syracuse University's offensive and defensive system.

Jim Burnheim was furious.

Duke's possession of the ball, Zhang Zifeng dribbled the ball forward at high speed, and in the blink of an eye, it was the half court of Syracuse University.

"Humph!"

Grant stopped in front of Zhang Zifeng, stared at the ball in the opponent's hand, lowered his center of gravity, and opened his hands. "Don't try to break through from me!"

"Oh, really. Then you're on your way, but you can't guard against me!"

Zhang Zifeng made a breakthrough, and Grant took a step back.

Zhang Zifeng stopped suddenly, the ball passed under his crotch, and then suddenly pulled up a jumper.

Before Grant's body could adjust, the ball was flying in the air.

Before he turned his head back, he heard all the Blue Devils fans shouting, "Grant, thank you, don't defend!"

The bastard hit another three.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Grant rushed over to pick up the ball and smashed it twice before his anger subsided.

Zhang Zifeng didn't think about letting the other party go like this. He chased Grant, looked at him with contempt, and chattered in his ear.

"I scored a goal, did you see it, I scored a goal!"

Grant's face was sullen, his eyes were burning, and his fists were clenched tightly.

Zhang Zifeng didn't care at all and continued. "You can't guard me, can you? What are you going to do!"

"You can't do anything, can you!"

"Go back and practice again!"

Grant was like an angry lion, ready to rush up and kill Zhang Zifeng at any time.

……

In the process of retreating, Zhang Zifeng did not forget to shake his finger at Grant, with a contemptuous expression that you can't do it.

Grant's angry face was distorted and frightening, and his quiet face was like a volcano about to erupt, making people feel frightened.

"Taylor, give me the ball!" Grant ran to the frontcourt and ordered in a cold tone.

Ennis thought he had heard wrong for a moment, and turned to look at Grant.

Grant shouted impatiently, "Give me the ball!"

Although Ensney was displeased with Grant's tone of command, but thinking that he had been teaching Zhang Zifeng a lesson, he felt a little more comfortable and passed the ball to him.

As soon as he received the ball, Grant didn't even think about it. He rushed towards the inside like a bull.

Zhang Zifeng saw Grant catch the ball, and just as he lowered his waist, he saw a figure rushing towards him.

He blocked it with his hands in disbelief, and instantly felt as if he had been hit by a big truck.

The pain in the hand was so painful that the whole person fell to the ground and slid on the ground for two or three meters before stopping.

Lying on the ground, Zhang Zifeng's first reaction was not to check his wound, but to think about it.

I'm playing off!
The second reaction is, if Lao Tzu sacrificed so much, will that bastard be kicked out of the stage!
The whistle sounded, an offensive foul!
Duke's possession.

When Zhang Zifeng heard it, he jumped up regardless of the pain in his arm, and shouted at the referee, "Are you kidding me? This kind of foul is just an ordinary offensive foul. Damn it, he wanted to hurt me on purpose. Look, my arm is red and swollen. You should just give him a T and send him off!"

The referee didn't care about Zhang Zifeng at all, and squinted at him, "I can see clearly, this is an offensive foul. If you interfere with the game again, I don't mind giving you a T!"

Looking at the referee's expression, Zhang Zifeng knew that it was useless to continue arguing, so he turned and left.

Although Grant was just an ordinary foul, Jim Burnheim was not going to let him stay on the court.

Jim Burnheim called a timeout and replaced Grant with Ron Patterson.

Grant sat on the sidelines full of anger, looking coldly at Zhang Zifeng, who continued to stay on the court, with a cold face.

Jim Burnheim looked at the situation on the court and said to Grant, "You need to calm down, instead of being provoked by the opponent and then jump into a rage without thinking at all. If you continue to behave like this, after tonight, you It's going to be the laughingstock of America. And that bastard could be touted again by those scouts, maybe just squeeze you into the NBA. You think about it for yourself, calm down and I'll let you play again."

Hearing the head coach's call, Grant's irritable mood finally calmed down.

Watching Zhang Zifeng continue to perform well on the court, Grant removed the towel from his head.

Walked up to head coach Jim Burnheim and said, "Coach, let me play!"

Jim Burnheim stared at Grant, "You want to play!"

"Yes, the team needs me now!" Grant said calmly.

"What I want is a calm Grant!" Jim Burnheim looked towards the court.

"I've calmed down now. I will focus on marking the Chinese man and won't be provoked by him again!" Grant also looked at the court, looking at Zhang Zifeng.

Jim Burnham turned to look at Grant and said, "Go on, remember what you said!"

"Yeah!" Grant waited for the replacement at the technical table.

Enter Grant, exit Ron Patterson.

"Hey, you are playing again, are you here to prove that you are a piece of trash? Or do you want to say that I won't get a point, as long as you are at your level, forget it, so as not to make a fool of yourself!" Zhang Zifeng continued to use trash talk Grant, trying to provoke him again.

Hearing Zhang Zifeng's provocation, Grant was not angry but just hummed. "You're a very annoying fly and a bastard!"

Seeing that Grant was completely unaffected by his own trash talk, Zhang Zifeng didn't care either.

Originally, trash talking is used to confuse and irritate the opponent.

It is best to succeed, and I have nothing to lose if I fail.

On the contrary, he kept spitting people, and he was in a good mood.

　Dear readers, I implore you to click and give recommendation votes, so that this book can be listed in the top ten sports new books list.Thank you!

　　


(End of this chapter)