Chapter Ninety-Two: Listening to Trash Talk Live

Because both sides were in desperate need of Michael Wu, and things almost escalated into a brawl in the training facility, Coach Frank Vogel ultimately decided to let Michael train alone, while the rest of the players were split into two teams for an intra-squad scrimmage.

“Michael, remember the details I mentioned to you this morning. As you increase your training load, don’t neglect those key areas,” Vogel reminded him before he left. “Sometimes, it’s the details that make all the difference.”

“I understand, Coach Frank. I’ll pay attention to those details,” Michael nodded to his head coach, then cast a longing glance at his teammates, who had already begun scrimmaging. “But coach, can’t I join them?”

“I really want to test my progress in a real game setting.”

Ever since his last game—arguably the best performance of his career—Michael had been unable to shake the thrill of dominating on the court. Whether it was soaring for alley-oops, putting pressure on defense, or nailing mid-range jumpers, he yearned to relive that exhilarating feeling.

Of course, there was also his trademark gift of the gab.

Just yesterday, after their win over the Dallas Mavericks, a reporter—never one to shy away from stirring the pot—caught up with Harrison Barnes for an interview and went straight for the jugular.

“Harrison, you’ve been outstanding this season, but tonight you ran into some serious trouble, didn’t you?” The reporter’s eyes glinted with mischief.

“Maybe so. I have to admit my shooting was off tonight,” Harrison Barnes shook his head at the camera. “You know, I’m used to the rims in Dallas. The ones in Orlando feel like someone put a manhole cover on them.”

“But Michael gave you several feet of space, and you still couldn’t make a shot?”

The reporter didn’t spare Barnes’ feelings in the slightest.

“Hey, man, have you ever played basketball?” Barnes retorted, unfazed. “Do you know what a defender’s secret weapon is, besides tight coverage?”

“Trash talk!” Barnes answered his own question, visibly annoyed. “That kid from Orlando runs his mouth like a machine gun. He talks so much nonsense, it really throws off my rhythm!”

“I can’t wait to face him again in Dallas. Next time, I’ll let my scoring do the talking—and shut him up for good!”

Barnes’ interview clip immediately set off a wave of online discussion. Everyone was dying to know what exactly Michael had said on the court.

“I always see Michael chattering nonstop in highlight videos, but I’ve never been able to make out what he’s saying. Can anyone read lips and decipher his trash talk?”

“It’s tough, but I bet he brought up last year’s Finals—that’s a stain on Harrison’s career he’ll never live down!”

“Oh man, if Michael actually said that, he’s a master of the art! That’s trash talk at its finest!”

“I think I need to buy a ticket and see this kid’s antics up close!”

American fans were abuzz. Trash talk had always been a beloved topic among basketball enthusiasts, and a rookie who could dish it out from day one was a rare and fascinating spectacle.

“This next game is the perfect chance to see it firsthand. Michael’s next opponent won’t tolerate that kind of talk on his home turf!”

Plenty of diehard fans announced they’d be attending in person to witness Michael’s trash talk, and recommendations for the next game were quick to follow:

Orlando Magic at home versus the Milwaukee Bucks!

“Welcome to Orlando!”

Monday, November 21st—Amway Center was packed with fans eager for tip-off, and the courtside commentators were doing their best to whip the crowd into a frenzy.

“Tonight marks the Magic’s third consecutive home game. They’ve won the previous two. Now, the only question is—can they make it three in a row?”

“That’s right. The Magic are the talk of the league lately, and their second-round gem from the draft, Michael Wu, just showcased his talent in the last game. I’m sure many in attendance tonight are here just to see him play!”

The commentator’s words had barely faded when the crowd erupted with cheers. As he said, they were here for Michael.

“Listen to these fans—Michael has become Orlando’s new darling, and it only took one game,” the commentator continued, flipping through the stat sheet. “Few would have believed that the Michael who went 9-for-12 in the last game hadn’t even seen the floor the game before. In fact, his season average is still pretty modest!”

“True, Coach Frank will definitely rely on him tonight. But I doubt he’ll repeat that breakout performance,” the other commentator laughed. “Because tonight, their opponent has a monster on the roster!”

“Giannis Antetokounmpo!”

“In their last matchup in Milwaukee, Giannis scored six straight points in the closing moments, but still couldn’t secure the win. Tonight, you can bet he’s out for revenge!”

The Greek Freak, Giannis Antetokounmpo, possessed a center’s height, superhuman wingspan, staggering athleticism, and a natural’s instincts. By all accounts, he was among the most gifted players in the league.

So far this season, Giannis—nicknamed the Alphabet—was averaging 21.8 points, 8.2 rebounds, 5.4 assists, plus 1.8 steals and 2.2 blocks per game. His stats were comprehensive, his performance all-around; he’d become an undeniable force in the league.

Lined up at small forward, he was exactly the player Michael would be matched up against tonight.

“Michael, you see that freak over there?” Serge Ibaka couldn’t help but steal a few glances at the other end as the Magic went through their pregame warmups. “That guy’s taller than I am and plays small forward—and even brings the ball up the court!”

“He’s got insane athleticism, too. Incredible hops. He’s even competed in the dunk contest!”

Ibaka paused, then added, “Of course, I’ve been in the dunk contest too.”

“Well, man, that just means he’ll be your nightmare as well.”

Listening to his teammate sing Giannis’s praises, Michael just smiled. “I’m only responsible for handling their bench.”

“Uh…”

Michael’s reply left Ibaka momentarily speechless. He scratched his head, wiped his brow, and returned to the bench.

Seeing the team’s veteran at a loss for words, Michael couldn’t help but chuckle. But at the same time, his gaze drifted across the court—just as a massive figure soared into the air!