Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 429: Chapter 365: The Ceiling Depends on Yao Ming

In May, Phoenix was already under a scorching sun.

But outside the clinic’s main gate, reporters and protesting music fans still swarmed.

Beneath a tall palm tree, a small patch of shade offered some relief. A few reporters gathered, chatting idly.

"I wouldn’t believe it if you told me no one organized this," one of the reporters muttered, jutting his chin toward the protesters at the clinic’s main entrance.

With the blazing sun overhead and the ground temperature approaching a hundred degrees Fahrenheit, these people were still holding up all sorts of protest signs and shouting slogans from time to time. "Tireless" didn’t even begin to describe it.

All of it was for their deep, burning "love" for Michael Jackson.

A few of the reporters scoffed. One of them said, "But Chen is pretty ruthless himself."

To deal with these protesting fans, Chen Yu had slyly submitted an application and had a batch of tall, shady trees outside the clinic’s main gate chopped down overnight.

Now, there wasn’t even a place to find shade. They could only bake in the sun.

Chen Yu had even set up sun umbrellas outside the walls on either side of the gate for the police patrolling the scene, and provided free iced drinks.

When the police were happily sipping their iced drinks and eating from fruit platters, who knows how furious those protesting fans must have been.

"Did you see the game yesterday? I can’t believe the Lakers lost that badly," a reporter from the Salt Lake City Tribune griped.

The reporters present shared a knowing look and glanced at one of their own.

This one was from Los Angeles.

His expression was a little unnatural. He retorted indignantly, "It wasn’t that bad. They only lost by 12 points."

"Ha, so how many points did you want to lose by?" the griping reporter shot back with a sneer, not letting him off the hook.

A reporter from the Minnesota Star Tribune chimed in wryly, "If O’Neal hadn’t been out, it wouldn’t have been a simple 12-point loss. It would have been 22, maybe even 32."

The Los Angeles reporter’s face grew grim.

points?

’That’s going too far!’

"You just wait. The Lakers will definitely win the second game," he argued weakly.

Just as they were talking, a motorcade suddenly appeared on the distant road, approaching at lightning speed.

They were all black Chevrolet Suburbans, more than a dozen of them, and they roared up to the clinic in an instant.

The motorcade screeched to a halt in front of the protesting fans.

The doors of the two front vehicles flew open. A group of bodyguards in black suits got out and immediately moved forward, clearing the protesters to the sides of the road.

"Looks like the Secret Service."

The reporters exchanged glances, instantly energized.

Working with the local police and the clinic’s security, the motorcade cleared a path and, without stopping, roared through the iron gate and disappeared inside.

Leaving behind the crowd of protesters and the reporters, who just stared at each other in bewilderment.

"Randolph."

At the entrance of the medical center, Chen Yu met the man in charge of the Secret Service team.

He was the head of the operations division. Chen Yu had met him before during a trip to the White House.

In his early forties, tall and powerfully built, he looked like he had been in the Delta Force.

Since the President was coming for surgery, security was essential.

The war was over, but the situation was still chaotic.

"Chen, you’ve really created a huge headache for us," Randolph couldn’t help but complain as he followed Chen Yu toward the medical center.

And this was just for local anesthesia. If it had been general anesthesia, it would have been even more troublesome.

Chen Yu smiled and said, "I’ve already prepared the relevant documents. You can start your work whenever you’re ready."

Next, the Secret Service would vet everyone in the clinic, including staff and patients, and implement a new security plan.

And that was just for the clinic; the travel route had to be planned as well.

It was all very tedious and complicated.

That’s why Randolph was genuinely curious why Chen Yu had insisted the President come to Phoenix for the surgery.

"Randolph, don’t look at me like that. Anyway, I don’t believe he’s coming all this way just for the surgery," Chen Yu said.

The surgery was one thing, but there was definitely official business involved too.

The presidential election was next year, and just last week Chen Yu had seen a news report saying he was preparing to run for reelection.

So, it was only natural for him to make an appearance in Arizona, a traditionally red state.

Randolph sighed and said no more.

「The next day was game day.」

Just after noon, Chen Yu drove from the clinic to the arena.

The main gate was now crowded with Secret Service agents. The protesters had long been cleared out, leaving only the assembled reporters.

Seeing Chen Yu’s car, a horde of reporters rushed forward.

Washington had already publicly announced that Chen Yu would be performing surgery on the President. Since it involved the President, the story naturally drew maximum attention.

Chen Yu didn’t stop, driving smoothly all the way to the arena.

Unexpectedly, a large number of reporters were waiting to ambush him here too.

"Chen, you’re all over TV today." When he reached the office area, he ran into Jim Boylan, who greeted him with a smile and a joke.

Late yesterday, after Washington’s announcement, the evening and morning news on local television were filled with reports about Chen Yu performing surgery on the President.

It was no exaggeration to say that Chen Yu was all over TV.

Just as Chen Yu was about to reply, he noticed Skiles’s office door open in the distance. The team’s assistant coach, Roger Reed, walked out first.

Skiles followed behind him. The two were talking about something, and finally, Skiles hugged Roger Reed.

"What’s wrong with Roger?" Chen Yu asked.

’Something seems to be up.’

Boylan glanced over and sighed. "Roger’s wife was diagnosed with cancer. We just found out. He might have to resign next season to go home and take care of her."

Chen Yu was surprised. He hadn’t heard anything about this.

As he recalled, Roger’s wife was a few years older than him, in her sixties, and baked amazing cookies.

"That’s a real shame," Chen Yu remarked with a sigh.

Work was important, but family was more important.

Chen Yu walked over and chatted with Roger for a bit, expressing his sympathy.

He was quite composed about it, saying they caught it early, so it probably wasn’t too serious.

After watching him leave, Chen Yu went into the office and talked with Skiles for a while.

He asked about O’Neal’s recovery.

The original plan was for him to return for the game on the 9th, but plans were just plans. Whether it was actually feasible depended on Chen Yu.

"No problem."

Chen Yu’s words were a great relief to Skiles.

Even though they had a big win against the Lakers in the first game, Skiles still felt uneasy with O’Neal out.

Especially for away games.

"By the way, are you still in touch with Plessey?" Skiles suddenly asked after they had chatted for a bit.

"Paul?"

Chen Yu paused, then asked Skiles what he meant.

Skiles said, "I saw a scoop in the Sentinel. It says the Magic’s management is planning to replace their head coach. They’re questioning whether Plessey can lead the Magic to a championship."

The Magic have the best front line in the league. They’ve had a great record in the East these past two years, and they made it to the Finals again last year.

Unfortunately, they still ended up getting swept.

With no major changes possible to the current roster, the Magic’s management believes that to take the next step, the problem isn’t the players, but the head coach.

Paul Plessey is decent and hardworking, but he was originally an assistant coach, working under Doug Rivers. There’s still a gap between him and a true head coach, so they want to replace him.

"I think he’s pretty good. If the Magic really do change coaches, I’d like to ask you to help me invite him to the Phoenix Suns," Skiles said.

With Roger resigning, the coaching staff will be short-handed.

And Skiles really appreciates Plessey’s defensive expertise.

He himself built his career on defense and still firmly believes that defense is what will forge a Sun Dynasty.

"Let’s talk about it if he actually gets fired," Chen Yu said.

It was too early to be talking about this.

Besides, Chen Yu genuinely felt that compared to defense, the Phoenix Suns should focus more on optimizing and improving their offense.

Defense depends on resources, and the Phoenix Suns weren’t lacking in defensive assets.

Their offense, on the other hand, was too simplistic and lacked a system. Sometimes you can’t just rely on superstars to solve everything.

At 7:00 PM, the second game between the Phoenix Suns and the Lakers began.

Chen Yu sat with Nelson, looking up at the scoreboard.

to 51.

With less than two minutes left in the second quarter, the Phoenix Suns were surprisingly down by 5 points.

SMACK.

Yao Ming, who had turned perfectly under the basket, extended his arm and slapped the basketball out of Marion’s hands.

It was a solid block.

"Chen, is there something wrong with Arvydas’s leg?" Nelson asked in a low voice.

He felt that Sabonis seemed to be struggling to run.

Chen Yu glanced at the clock again but didn’t say anything.

Two minutes passed quickly.

Although Hardaway hit a long two-pointer, the Phoenix Suns were still down by 4 points at halftime.

"Let’s go," Chen Yu said, immediately heading back to the locker room.

As soon as Sabonis entered the locker room, he slumped into his seat.

He was drenched in sweat and clearly exhausted.

Chen Yu handed him a sports drink and, while he drank, immediately started working on his legs to relieve the accumulated fatigue in his calf muscles.

There was no injury. He was just tired.

In today’s game, Jackson had made two obvious adjustments.

First, he had Horry and Yao Ming switching on defense a lot.

When Sabonis moved out to the perimeter, Yao Ming no longer rushed to follow him. Instead, he would often switch with Horry and continue to patrol the paint.

Sabonis drew out to the perimeter not only to set screens for the guards but also to open up space in the paint.

With a big man like Yao Ming standing in the paint, it severely restricted the Phoenix Suns’ ability to drive to the basket.

And Horry’s help defense awareness and switching ability were among the best in the league.

This tactic made things very difficult for the Phoenix Suns in the first half.

At the same time, the Lakers had clearly picked up the pace.

Sometimes, they wouldn’t even wait for Yao Ming; Kobe would just grab the ball and push the fast break himself.

This forced the Phoenix Suns to rush back on defense.

All this back and forth took a significant toll on Sabonis.

After all, he was 39 years old and riddled with old injuries.

Meanwhile, in the visitors’ locker room, the atmosphere was much more relaxed.

"Phil, our plan worked. Did you notice? Sabonis can barely even run anymore," Lambis said smugly.

But Jackson shook his head.

"It’s not a success. Don’t forget, the Phoenix Suns have Chen Yu."

Jackson glanced at Lambis. ’Have you forgotten how those two old guys, Olajuwon and Ewing, played the entire game last year like they were cheating?’

’It was all because of Chen Yu.’

He could guarantee that when they came back from halftime, Sabonis would be lively and jumping around again.

"What’s giving me a bigger headache right now is how to activate Yao."

Jackson looked over at Yao Ming.

This was only the second round. If the Lakers were going to make another run for the championship, they couldn’t rely on Kobe alone.

Yao Ming had to step up and shoulder some of the pressure.

You could say that the Lakers’ ceiling wasn’t determined by Kobe, but by Yao Ming.