Chapter 870: Chapter 47 Continue Sleeping_2
The last time he had just apologized to the entire nation over the spitting incident, and now he might have to apologize again very soon.
But first, he needed to figure out how to get out of this mess because tomorrow was the Western Conference Finals.
After sobering up at the police station, he deeply regretted his actions and immediately called his lawyer for advice. If the other party pressed charges, Barkley could face up to nine months in jail.
"Nine months? The West Finals will be long over by then—it’ll even be next season already!"
Since the lawyer couldn’t get to Portland right away, Barkley mulled it over and decided to call Gan Guoyang to bail him out of the station.
Gan Guoyang was woken up by the call in the middle of the night. Recently, he’d been sleeping alone because his wife was pregnant. Suppressing his anger, he answered the call. Upon learning that Barkley had gotten himself into trouble, he scolded Barkley furiously over the phone, then got out of bed, got dressed, woke Quentin up, and drove to the Portland Police Department to bail him out.
Gan Guoyang posted a $500 bail for Barkley and greeted the Portland Police Department Chief. Originally, Barkley was supposed to be released in the morning, but thanks to Gan’s intervention, he was released immediately.
In the car, Gan Guoyang listened to Barkley recount what had happened. Barkley explained in vivid detail why he hit someone and what those people had said to provoke him.
Frowning, Gan Guoyang asked, "Charles, you already have a family and kids. Why are you still out drinking with another woman?"
Barkley replied, "We were just having drinks! Those bastards thought I was going to sleep with her. For God’s sake, I’m not that kind of person!"
Gan Guoyang didn’t believe a word of Barkley’s excuse. He said, "The West Finals are around the corner, and you’re this cocky? Not resting up properly? You think you can beat me? I should’ve left you in that police station so you couldn’t play, and that way, I wouldn’t have to beat you too badly!"
Barkley spread his hands and said, "I just wanted to relax a little. I’ve been training like crazy over the past couple of days. This won’t affect my performance in the game."
"And another thing—I have to ask—why on earth would you strip off your clothes in a fight? Are you insane?"
"I didn’t want their blood to stain my clothes. And as it turned out, I was right—I broke his nose."
Gan Guoyang shook his head, at a loss for what to do with a friend like this. Quentin drove Barkley back to his hotel.
As they parted, Barkley thanked Gan Guoyang, saying that without him, tomorrow’s game would’ve been a real problem.
"If you think getting out of jail means tomorrow’s game won’t be a problem, you’re dead wrong. Go clean yourself up and get some rest—you’d better be ready for a good thrashing."
By morning, news of Barkley hitting someone and being taken to the police station had already broken across the media, especially since the person Barkley hit was a veteran who had just returned from the Middle East.
Barkley was unaware of this at first. However, the public reaction wasn’t too dramatic. For one, people were already used to Barkley pulling stunts like this. For another, James Carter and his group had been the ones provoking him first, making plenty of racist and insulting remarks. Frankly, they had it coming.
Reportedly, James Carter had said something like, "Lee-Anne, you’re with Barkley—are you trying to see what it’s like to sleep with a big black rooster?"
In response, when Barkley beat him up, he yelled, "This is what it feels like to sleep with a big black rooster!"
Of course, Barkley never admitted to saying that—people chalked it up to rumor and hearsay.
By nightfall, Barkley, now fully sober, joined his teammates at the Memorial Coliseum.
Oddly enough, the pre-game drama seemed to have boosted morale throughout the Suns. Barkley wasn’t discouraged at all. If anything, he was more fired up than ever.
"Tonight, I’m going to crush Ah Gan!" Barkley declared in the locker room.
Right after saying that, he added, "Don’t let that get out, don’t let that get out."
At 7 p.m. Pacific Time, both teams took to the court. As the epic "Sunrise" music played, Gan Guoyang and the Trail Blazers players made their entrance.
Since last season’s playoffs, the Trail Blazers had maintained an unbeaten streak at home during the postseason. No one had been able to conquer the Memorial Coliseum.
The rabid Portland fans had turned this arena into the best home-court atmosphere in the entire NBA. Tonight, they all wore red T-shirts, transforming the arena into a sea of red.
Team owner Tang Jianguo, wearing a conspicuous red tie, sat in a prominent, highly visible spot. The camera frequently cut to him, and he sat there with his chin high, his expression full of pride.
Gan Guoyang, however, had a trace of fatigue in his eyes. He hadn’t slept well the previous night because of Barkley’s drama, which could slightly impact his performance in the game.
In this playoff run, Gan Guoyang’s scoring output had noticeably declined compared to last season—not because he had regressed, but because his teammates had stepped up their game significantly.
Many times, Gan Guoyang willingly passed the ball and played team-oriented basketball, giving Porter, Lewis, Petrović, Sabonis, and others opportunities to shine.
The Trail Blazers were stacked with talent. From the starters to the bench, everyone was a top-tier player capable of carrying the team on their own.
Former Trail Blazers coach Jack Ramsey had commented during a game broadcast, "This Trail Blazers team, even without Ah Gan, would still be a Finals-caliber squad. They absolutely have the potential to make it to the Finals."
"But with Ah Gan, they’re not just championship-caliber—they’re dynasty-caliber. He’s the perfect cornerstone."
Unlike Jordan, Gan Guoyang had an exceptionally close relationship with his teammates.
Porter, Kossie, Thompson, Curry, and others had all battled alongside him for many years. They were not just teammates—they were great friends.
