Champion Creed-Chapter 1468 - 459: Champion Creed (Part 4)

At 34, the King of New York Bernard King underwent surgery without the team’s consent and was abandoned, retiring. A year after his retirement, he went to his backyard to shoot hoops every day, stopping only after scoring 345 points, because he deeply regretted not reaching a career total of 20,000 points, falling short by just 345 points, and this was the only way he could console himself.

In the last five years of his career, Moses Malone wandered around like a beggar, willing to play as a substitute, so much so that people forgot he was a superstar.

Another Malone, the Mailman, became a sidekick to Kobe in his later years, lacking the persona of the 90s’ powerhouse, and ultimately did not earn a championship.

Stat-obsessed Wilt Chamberlain became a defensive blue-collar player who averaged fewer than 10 shots per game in his final years, scoring only 12 points per game in his championship-winning season.

In the audience, Shaquille O’Neal found himself in a similar situation in Dallas, and beside him, Patrick Ewing’s twilight years were practically a joke.

As for Hakeem Olajuwon, he retired with a championship, seemingly glamorous, but that year saw him as nothing more than a backup beside Roger, despite being the strongest center of the 90s.

As for that number 23, fans who watched late-90s games should know how that period was a huge insult to his terrifying pride. The passionate story of leading the Hawks back to the playoffs in the 21st century seemed more like a consolation prize for MJ, ensuring he wouldn’t leave the spotlight as the top failure.

These dazzling names all indicate that throughout NBA history, few superstars can retire gracefully.

Most of them always attempt to maintain their dignity but fail.

Year after year, they miss shots they once made, and finally come to realize "I truly can’t go back," and retire in melancholy.

The glorious stories of most superstars, no matter how radiant the peak, ultimately end in tragedy.

But Roger played out a completely different script.

In the final battle of his career, at the age of 33, on the stage of the finals, he had the chance to score 61 points.

This is why the fans were so excited. Roger scoring 61 points? Not unusual. But a retiring superstar scoring 61 points? That’s exceptionally rare.

Bill Simmons simply couldn’t think of a more perfect ending.

Even years later, when Kobe Bryant scored 60 points in his retirement game, it couldn’t compare, because the significance of a regular season game and the finals is completely different.

At the free throw line, the whole crowd was chanting MVP.

Some stubborn New York fans still wished that number 14 would perish, but their boos were completely overshadowed.

Roger looked up and saw the signs held up by fans behind the backboard.

"I have cancer, but I persevere for truth."

"Hey Roger, I traveled 1,100 miles to see you."

"I’m only 178 cm tall, but I won’t give up basketball, just like you didn’t give up in high school."

"Undisputed GOAT."

Roger smiled. He could win a championship, empower others, and earn astronomical amounts of gold.

His career had no regrets.

"Roger, under the cheering, takes his first free throw... makes it, 60 points! God, the New York Knicks are trailing by 8 points. If Roger scores one more, they’re practically strangled! Second throw, 61 points! 61 points! Roger is just a minute away from his 12th championship!" Mike Breen trembled all over; this was a great performance that lasted fifteen years.

The New York Knicks called a timeout, Roger, with a calm smile, bowed to the on-site fans.

His expression showed no murderous intent, just a calm smile.

He was declaring, I’m the greatest bastard of this era!

I’m the God of this court!

In the luxury box, Michael Jordan sighed deeply.

Once, he hoped Roger would reach the twilight of his career and be defeated by someone even more of a bastard than him, letting him taste everything he had suffered.

But now, Michael Jordan knew his wish had fallen through.

Roger not only left an unsurpassed career.

He also left an unsurpassed silhouette.

Roger’s wish came true; 73 wins, MVP, scoring title, opening streak record, undefeated playoffs win, final game 61 points... this was his dream season, the ending he fantasized about years ago.

He would not leave like those predecessors, in regret and lost dignity.

He would leave with his head held high, overlooking the world.

He did it.

A minute later, the electronic buzzer sounded.

All the fans around the world raised their arms, celebrating the perfect curtain call of a great performance.

Teammates rushed to Roger’s side, embracing the legend.

Bill Russell stood up, ready to present Roger with his twelfth FMVP trophy.

This meant that Roger officially surpassed Bill Russell in the total number of championships, becoming first in history.

Roger broke free from the crowd; he still had one more thing to do.

He jumped onto the scorer’s table, spread his arms amid the confetti — this was his most enjoyable moment of a long season.

From now on, he no longer needed to do this. Because he no longer needed to climb the peak; he himself was the summit.

Roger raised the O’Brien Trophy and FMVP trophy; at this moment, single-game 61 points no longer mattered. Because without any data embellishment, he was synonymous with basketball.