Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

Steve Wyche was looking for suitable interview subjects in the gym of the Wilmington Branch.

Most media were focused on Jordan. As a person from "Jordan's camp," Wyche wanted to dig out other information about the Wizards Team, which was also his responsibility as the resident journalist from The Washington Post.

Today was media day. The Wizards Team didn't need to practice, and most players were thinking about how to show off in front of the media.

Only Yu Fei was practicing his shooting in a corner of the court with his trainer.

Incredibly, no reporters were interviewing this Wizards player, who had been the subject of the most news during the offseason.

The first person who reported on Yu Fei during the offseason was Wyche, so they were somewhat acquainted.

Therefore, Wyche approached Yu Fei and asked jokingly, "Training today as well?"

Normally, anyone who insisted on training during media day was an idiot.

To the media, this was a show, signaling to the public how hard you work, but sorry, no one would mention a word about it in the following day's coverage.

Putting on a show is also an art—like Jordan's so-called "love" for the game when he made his comeback, then going on about how that love was the serious kind of show the media appreciated.

"I've been training like this for the past two months," Yu Fei said helplessly. "I'm used to it now."

Wyche asked, "Then, do you have time to do an exclusive interview with me?"

Yu Fei asked curiously, "Are you sure?"

"What's the problem?"

A media person in Washington D.C. who didn't revolve around Jordan? Could it be that this team's beat reporter didn't care about chasing traffic?

"No, it's just that I thought you might prefer to interview MJ."

Yu Fei didn't know whether it was a cause for happiness or concern when the beat reporter chose him over Jordan.

However, Wyche's next words surprised Yu Fei even more: "I am a Michael's man."

Implicitly, he could interview Jordan whenever he wanted to.

Why was Yu Fei surprised? Because he was in Washington D.C., the political heart of the United States. As a beat reporter, representing the so-called fourth estate, Wyche would never label himself as "someone's man" to prove his objectivity and rationality.

If you accused a politically colored reporter of being someone's man, it was an insult to them.

In the world of sports, however, Wyche could easily admit in front of others that he was Jordan's man.

This was the monotheistic structure unique to the American sports world since the 1990s, after Jordan's rise.

Reasonable. Very reasonable.

Yu Fei nodded, "Okay, what do you want to ask?"

Wyche's questions were very formulaic—how he felt, his feelings about the Wizards Team, his goals for the new season, and whether there was any pressure being a teammate of Jordan, and he didn't miss out any question that other reporters would ask.

"Is this all you want to ask?"

At the end of the interview, Yu Fei was still a bit puzzled.

Wyche said calmly, "Yes, these will suffice."

"Why? You could ask some harder questions," Yu Fei suggested.

Wyche laughed, "I'm Michael's man, and my task is to put what you've told me today on page two of tomorrow's newspaper."

"Why?" Yu Fei repeated the question.

"Because you are also Michael's man."

Heaven pity me, how did I end up being Jordan's man when I've lived so cleanly?

But on second thought, isn't he indeed Jordan's man?

For Yu Fei, Jordan had given up last season's find, Courtney Alexander, who had been averaging 16 points a game for the Wizards, along with two future first-round picks. If Alexander continued to progress or if the first of those two first-round picks, the unprotected one, provided warmth to someone else, the questions about Jordan would increase manifold.

So Wyche wasn't wrong in saying that Yu Fei was Jordan's man. Big Dog had paid a hefty price to acquire him.

That day, the most profound thing Jordan said to the reporters was: "The team is full of young players. I can see that, when I take off this uniform again, they will realize their potential. I will be leaving soon, very soon." Jordan paused when he said this, realizing that his comeback would be but a flash in the pan—a year at most, maybe two—then, like a flash, he would be gone.

When taking the preseason team photo, Jordan made sure that Yu Fei and Brown stood right behind him.

However, Yu Fei wasn't that close to Jordan.

On the first day of training camp, Yu Fei hadn't even spoken a word to Jordan.

It wasn't that he was aloof or ungrateful for Jordan's high regard. If Jordan were still an executive with the team, spending so much to pick him, that would be a stroke of luck.

Yu Fei would have been very happy to truly become "Michael's man," but to be Jordan's teammate and simultaneously "Michael's man"?

Are you sure?

This is a man who uses his biggest helper's weakness to highlight his own glorious image and drives his teammate to write an autobiography to disparage him. To be his good teammate and be his man, one must give up everything they can, as obedient as a Ragdoll cat.

Yu Fei's approach was to keep a respectful distance, drawing a "38th Parallel" between himself and Jordan.

He would not cross Jordan's bottom line, but if Jordan crossed his, who cares if you are Michael Jordan or Jordan Carver? He would take action first and talk later.

The day after media day, Yu Fei was the first to arrive at the Wilmington Branch's court.

No one was earlier than him.

Because no one trains at eight thirty in the morning.

During the training camp, Yu Fei began his on-ball rehabilitation training with a terrifying intensity.

In the summer, to gain weight, he separated his on-ball training from his strength training, but the increase in strength training inevitably affected his shooting touch.

Therefore, although Yu Fei had gained weight as wished, the beginnings of a decent shot he had worked so hard to develop over the past year disappeared just like Yua Mikami's acting.

So, every morning, Yu Fei would undergo three hours of irregular shooting training.

This made Anthony Lawson suffer terribly.

"Fulai, I think even Rip's not as diligent with his shooting training as you," Lawson sighed.

"That's nonsense. If I had Rip's shooting ability, I'd also slack off, but I don't, do I?"

"Actually, you don't have to work so hard, being MJ's man. Just like Kwame, even if your shooting is unstable, it won't matter."

Kwame... Yu Fei found it amusing.

Lately, Brown has been approaching him often, telling him how good Jordan is to him and how close their relationship is.

Brown found it strange why Yu Fei didn't take the initiative to get closer to Jordan.

Yu Fei said, "I don't like hanging out with old geezers."

"Mike is not an old man."

He already referred to Jordan as "Mike," so Yu Fei had to go along with it.

Yu Fei's shooting practice lasted from eight in the morning until eleven thirty.

When Yu Fei ended the morning training with a pull-up three-pointer, a shirtless Lawson collapsed under the basket.

"Ha huff~ Ha huff~ Ha huff~"

"Look at you, all dead tired just from picking up a few balls?" Yu Fei disdainfully looked at Lawson.

Lawson was nearly too out of breath to respond to Yu Fei, but if anyone dared question his stamina, he wouldn't mind having them switch roles with him.

Being a training partner for someone whose shooting percentage under practice conditions was below 70% was a form of torture.

Yu Fei and Lawson decided to take a shower first, then find a place to have lunch.

In the changing room, they met Richard Hamilton, who had come early to set up the daily necessities.

Before crossing over, Yu Fei didn't know Hamilton.

Because the nickname "Midrange King" was meaningless in the era of small ball, and Hamilton himself was quite an invisible star, with little fame among the new generation of fans.

Even now, Yu Fei only knew that his midrange shooting was good, but his shooting percentage was only 44%.

In today's game, that's the normal level for a star player, but it's not considered efficient.

Yu Fei was planning to just say hello and then go take a shower, but Hamilton, curious as a child, stared at him, "Are you the 'Anti-Mike' rookie?"

"Anti... Anti-Mike?"

Hamilton laughed heartily, "Kwame says you don't like the old man, and indeed you've never approached Michael, so everyone thinks you're 'Anti-Mike'."

What everyone thinks isn't important, what matters is what Jordan thinks.

"The person who spread this rumor must be an antichrist deserving of crucifixion," Yu Fei said righteously, "I've always been a fan of Michael. My home is filled with a lot of his game tapes; how could I be 'Anti-Mike'? It's the person who spread this rumor to drive a wedge between me and Michael who is the real 'Anti-Mike'!"

Hamilton was greatly surprised, as if he was a single-celled organism, "Oh, is that so? You, a Seattleite, are a fan of Michael's?"

"First, I'm not from Seattle, second, I truly am a fan of Michael's. If there could only be one Jordan fan in the United States, it would have to be me."

Yu Fei spoke with such conviction he almost believed himself, and Hamilton took his words at face value, reaching a consensus on the spot.

The real 'Anti-Mike' is the one spreading the rumors.

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