God of NBA point guards

Chapter 62 Assassin: Iron Fist is too tender, I want to deal with Jordan myself
"Crack! Crack!"

Zhou Quan stretched out his hand and patted Jordan's old face twice, and said with a smile, "Oh, Michael, you've already left, what are you doing when you come back?"

"you?"

The pain subsided a little, and Jordan was about to regain his breath, and his liver hurt from this sentence again.

"Don't worry, I didn't use much force, and the pain will pass after a while. You should thank me for showing mercy." Zhou Quan said with a smile.

After speaking, he shouted at the rest of the Bulls: "Do you want to fight? If you don't fight, get this guy away. I'm merciful. It shouldn't affect his game."

Pippen and others hurried up and moved Jordan aside, and sat against the wall, while Zhou Quan turned and left.

"Fake Oil! Iron Fist, this alliance has me without you."

Jordan, who came back slowly, wiped away his tears and snot, stared at Zhou Quan's back and cursed.

"Michael, are you okay? It seems that Iron Fist did not lie, he really kept his strength, he broke two bones of the postman with one punch that day." Pippen said.

Jordan glared at Pippen. Could it be that he has kept his strength, and I still have to thank him?
He opened his mouth, wanting his teammates not to say the embarrassing thing just now, but he closed his mouth again, he really couldn't open that mouth.

Because not all of his teammates have a good relationship with him. Even Pippen has a mediocre relationship in private.

As for Grant, he bullied him badly and was afraid of him, so he didn't dare to turn against him.

What happened just now is likely to spread in a short time.
Xie Te, when he thought of this, he regretted to death, he really shouldn't have come back just now.

He sat here for another ten minutes, and only left with his teammates when his body was almost recovered.

"Oh, what luck to meet a bull."

On the way back to the locker room, they bumped into a few more reporters.

A reporter asked: "Michael, Iron Fist arrived just now, did you see him?"

"No, don't mention that rookie in front of me." Jordan said angrily.

"Michael, don't you admire him very much?" The reporter asked in surprise.

"When did I say I admired him?" Jordan asked angrily.

"You once said something like 'I praise Iron Fist', and the media reported it, and you can't deny it." The reporter said.

"Then I take that sentence back."

With cold words containing hatred, Jordan's blood-red eyes stared at the few reporters, and the reporters couldn't help but feel the suffocating pressure.

"I'm going to score 50 points on that rookie tonight, and I'll do it."

In anger, Jordan put down a harsh word, then pushed the reporter away and left.

"50+? There was a good show tonight, they must have had a conflict, and it was serious."

"They were mortal enemies. Except for the last game, Lambiel and Thomas were not there. Which game between them in these years was not a battle of life and death?"

"For sure, the Pistons' current record has rushed up, and the Bulls feel threatened. Their relationship will not get better, and they will go back to the past."

"Then tonight will be another epic battle."

"Yes, Michael Jordan will not allow the Pistons to stand up again, he will do everything in his power to knock the Pistons down."

"I don't know if the smiling assassin will return to the starting lineup? Without him, I don't think the Pistons can beat the Bulls now."

"In fact, he is no longer good, otherwise he will be swept away? It is a good choice for the Pistons to choose to train Iron Fist."

After the Bulls players left, a group of reporters talked a lot.

Jordan, with a face like a steel plate, returned to the visiting team's locker room, threw the suit into the trash can without saying a word, sat there like a volcano about to erupt, making the Bulls' locker room look like a dead person, no one Dare to speak.

"how?"

The head coach Phil Jackson who came in found that the atmosphere was not right and asked immediately.

"Uh, coach, we just met an iron fist," Grant said.

"A conflict?" Phil Jackson asked hastily, his face tightened.

"Small conflict, it's all right," Grant said.

Jordan heard the skirmish and shot Grant a hard look.

Grant didn't care. The relationship was not good. He had already made up his mind to leave the Bulls as soon as the contract ended.

Jackson breathed a sigh of relief, and said: "Except for that locker room fight and the fight with the postman last time, Iron Fist didn't have any other violent behavior during this period, and his defensive style is also different from the previous Bad Boys. Not belonging to the Bad Boys Legion, we don't have to maintain such a tense relationship with him to avoid conflicts."

Jordan snorted coldly, that bastard from Iron Fist really didn't belong to the Bad Boys, but he was more domineering than the Bad Boys, and he lost face just now.

Jackson said with a smile: "It's a pity that our draft is too late, otherwise I have selected him last time, and I am confident that I can complete the dynasty."

"Without him, we can certainly complete the dynasty."

Jordan snorted coldly, and said with absolute self-confidence: "I said, this is the beginning of an era, and this is my era."

A bad thought rose in Jackson's heart, because the strength of his main point guard was not enough to face Iron Fist!

The last time they faced off was the Iron Fist in their debut, Paxson couldn't handle it, let alone the current Iron Fist?

Jordan stood up at this moment, staring at everyone with a pair of red eyes, and said in an extremely stern tone: "We have defeated the bad boy army, and we must not allow them to get up again, absolutely not.

From now on, starting from this game, we will treat it as a war as before, and if they fall, we will fall. "

The murderous sound turned the bull's locker room into a gladiator room full of great pressure in an instant, and a slaughter was about to begin.

In the locker room of the home team, Isiah Thomas found Chuck Daly, and the two came outside to communicate about the upcoming game.

This was a common thing in the past, and they would even communicate before each game. Daly was responsible for arranging tactics, Thomas was responsible for executing tactics, and the cooperation complemented each other.

But that was before. After Thomas returned from his comeback, this was the first time he communicated with Daly before the game.

Daly understands very well that this is because the opponent is the Bulls, Michael Jordan, the sworn enemy of the Pistons and the Smiling Assassins.

"Coach, I hope to return to the starting lineup tonight. I want to deal with Michael Jordan myself. Iron Fist is still too young. He can't do anything to that guy."

Daly couldn't help but fell silent.

He remembers very clearly that in the four games swept by the Eastern Conference Finals, Thomas averaged only 16.5 points per game, and his shooting percentage barely reached 40%. The best game reached 29.75%, and his strength has reached its peak. Now Thomas is not Jordan's opponent at all. If he faces him head-on, he can only end in humiliation.

(End of this chapter)