I am Really an Insider

Wayne looked at the text messages on his phone, and to be honest, he was a little panicked.

The area around Twist is not like the college town of Stillwater, nor is it like the large rural area of ​​Indianapolis.

Those two places are relatively simple, but here there is a mixture of good and bad, with everyone.

As we all know, the Pacers and the New York Knicks are mortal enemies.

The two teams met several times in the playoffs in the 1990s, and sparks flew every time.

New Yorkers always feel that they are from a big city, and they always have a kind of superiority towards the Pacers. They often insult Pacers players with titles like "hillbilly".

Although the last time the two sides met in the playoffs was already a millennium ago.

However, over the past few years, the hatred between fans and teams on both sides has not been completely diluted.

Until now, Reggie Miller can still be ranked in the top five most hated players by New York fans.

Be confident, top three!

Could it be that some extreme New York fan threatened him because he was selected by the Pacers?

But this guy is too audacious, and he actually asked me to call him?

Out of curiosity, Wayne called.

Is it possible that he can come along the phone line and chop me?

Then, a hoarse voice came from the phone: "Yo, Wei! Haha, you really called me. Do you know who I am?"

"How did you know my phone number?" Wayne didn't answer the question. Instead, he asked the other party a question.

"I asked for it for Larry Bird. Isn't this just a matter of minutes?"

Wayne: "???"

Can a New York fan ask Larry Bird for his phone number?

It's obviously impossible.

So, the caller, based on his voice and tone

"I'm Ron, yes, I was the best defensive player last season. At the same time, I'm also your good big brother in the future.

You’ve come to New York, don’t you want to meet your future big brother in advance? "

Sure enough, an epoch-making man appeared!

Speaking of which, this is Wayne's first contact with his teammates from the Pacers.

"Uh, of course, Ron, thank you for inviting me out." Of course, the big socialite Wayne would not refuse Artest's kind invitation.

Badges or not, fetters or not, the main reason is to have a good relationship with teammates.

If you have a better relationship with Artest now, it will be easier to persuade him during the Auburn Hills incident.

Unite all the forces that can be united, and it will be easier to get along in the team.

"Well, let's go watch tennis tomorrow afternoon. The US Open is about to start, and the tennis courts will definitely be busy.

I said, you should know tennis, right? "

"Yes, I understand a little bit, I understand a little bit." Wayne responded awkwardly. In fact, his understanding of tennis was limited to the basic rules.

"Then, just come to see me in Queensbridge tomorrow. I'm afraid your kid will die on the streets. Don't go to Queensbridge. We'll meet at Arthur Ashe Stadium."

After hanging up the phone, Wayne was still a little confused.

Artest actually likes to watch tennis?

It's not like his style.

Or should I say, this guy is just there to join in the fun.

At this time in late August, the US Open is probably the most popular and watched by the most people.

Could it be that he couldn't bear the loneliness and wanted to take a few shots at the scene?

Originally, Wayne's plan was to run away after filming the commercial, but now the plan has changed and he has to stay in New York for one more day.

In the evening, Wayne also made a point of looking at the history of the US Open over the years so that he and Artest wouldn't have to stare at each other in embarrassment tomorrow and say nothing.

At noon the next day, Wayne showed up at Arthur Ashe Stadium on time.

When Wayne checked the information yesterday, he learned that this arena is named after the famous black American tennis player Arthur Ashe.

There were many people at the scene. Although Wayne was wearing a pair of sunglasses, his height was so eye-catching that he would still be recognized by fans from time to time.

After taking 5 photos and signing countless names, Wayne finally walked into the arena through the VIP channel.

Hey, this is the trouble of being the MOP of the Final Four.

When I used to watch tennis matches on TV, I always felt that the tennis court was not that big.

But in fact, Arthur Ashe Stadium has 23,000 seats, which is more seats than many NBA teams' home stadiums.

In the VIP restaurant, Wayne saw a very conspicuous and strong man sitting on the bench.

He was wearing a white vest and blue jeans, and his thick arms made people nervous.

This look looks a bit like the protagonist of the GTA game that Wayne played in his previous life.

After confirming that it was Artest, Wayne walked up to say hello.

However, Artest did not find Wayne.

He stared ahead distractedly, as if he was distracted.

Wayne even walked up to him, and he didn't react at all, as if he was temporarily closed into his own world.

"Ron?"

Wayne shouted, and Artest slowly turned his head to look at Wayne.

After staring at Wayne for about two or three seconds, Artest's eyes regained their vitality and were no longer so dull.

"Hey, what's up!" Artest's voice was very strong. Those who didn't know better thought the two were causing trouble on the street.

Even saying hello seemed like a fight.

"Hello Ron." Wayne extended his right hand to Artest, but Artest bumped fists with Wayne.

"When did you come?"

"Well, I've been standing next to you for a few seconds."

"Really? Fuck, the draft report said you are 2.06 meters tall. Are you kidding me? You can cut the net off without climbing the stairs." Artest stood up and found that the gap between himself and Wayne was more than 5 centimeters. .

"Actually, I'm a little taller than reported."

"How much higher?"

"About five centimeters." Wayne answered truthfully.

"Haha, you are in the business, kid. This league is full of lies. Come on, let's go to the stands. Front row tickets. Remember to smile when the cameras sweep over the stands."

After Artest finished speaking, he walked towards the stands in a good mood.

Wayne followed, scratching his head.

This guy is so dull one second, but he is in a good mood the next second.

The mood changes too quickly.

Normal people's emotional changes are gradual from 1 to 100.

But Artest, he seems to be able to go from 1 to 100 directly.

Yes, this guy often loses control of his emotions on the court. Isn't that the same reason?

From 1 to 100, it explodes. His mood changes so quickly that people are caught off guard.

Wayne was really afraid that this guy would suddenly quarrel with the people around him later.

After the two sat in the stands, Wayne realized that there were quite a few celebrities in the front row.

After all, tennis is a sport with a high degree of commercialization and is very popular around the world.

"How do you feel about this team you joined?" Before the game started, Artest and Wayne started chatting word by word.

"You are the first teammate I have met, so I don't have any feelings about the Pacers yet."

"Aren't you afraid of the pressure? Very few lottery picks will directly join a championship team. You know we are a championship team, right? Indianapolis is not a place to mess around."

"Well, I should be able to adapt. After all, I was also a champion in college."

"Hahaha, just like Bird said, you are quite confident. However, confidence is not enough in the NBA. Have you seen the Eastern Conference finals last season? This is a real fucking battlefield."

After Artest finished speaking, two players appeared on the tennis court.

Wayne was a little stunned. He didn't expect that the first person to tell him this was Artest.

At first, Wayne thought it would be Reggie Miller who would come and tell him this, or maybe even O'Neal Jr.

But it was Artest, the most unreliable of the three, who reminded himself to be prepared.

this

"The game is about to start, Wayne, I'm so excited!" Artest said, patting Wayne's back hard.

Wayne almost died on the spot.

Damn, you're using so much force, you must be used to hitting people!

Although Wayne was speechless, he couldn't just fight Artest for 300 rounds, so he could only helplessly turn his head and look at the court.

As a result, on the court, Wayne saw an old acquaintance, or to be precise, a familiar stranger—Maria Sharapova.

It turns out this is Sharapova's match.

Yes, it's the US Open now, no wonder she's in New York.

Artest took off his sunglasses at this time and looked like he knew the game very well: "Wei, who do you think will win?"

"Sharapova, after all, she just won Wimbledon."

"Oh? Really?" Artest's reaction was dull.

Is that so? You don’t know. Do you really like watching tennis?

Wayne thought that Artest would analyze the pros and cons of the two for him next, but in the end, Artest fell silent.

Why does Wayne feel like this guy is really just here to join in the fun!

"Wei, do you know what is the most important thing when watching a tennis match?" After a moment of silence, Artest spoke earnestly.

"What?"

"Come on, close your eyes."

"ah?"

"Listen to me, Wei, close your eyes."

"Oh," Wayne was speechless. Artest wasn't trying to trick the rookie in front of so many people.

At this time, the game on the tennis court had begun, and Sharapova also let out her signature roar while hitting the tennis ball.

"How's it going? Do you feel it?"

"What does it feel like?" Wayne was going crazy. At this time, Atai Zhenima was like a lunatic.

"Pay attention, Wei, and listen carefully. Before watching the game, let's listen to the most charming roar on the earth. It is the essence of the tennis game!"

Everyone in Wayne was dumbfounded. Is this the essence of the tennis game that Artest said?

Xiu'er, your talent in basketball is a waste!

It would be a shame if you don't do some other research with your imagination.

In fact, before Artest played basketball, he really thought about doing something else.

At first he thought about being a drug addict, but on the day of his first transaction, his legs were so trembling that he ran away. He was not the type to do this at all, so he had no choice but to change his route.

Later, he wanted to be a rapper, but his "natural sound" almost caused his neighbors to smash his stereo several times.

Forced to have no choice, Artest embarked on the road of basketball.

It's a waste of talent, it's a waste of talent.

Wayne opened his eyes speechlessly, while Artest beside him had a look of enjoyment.

Mr. Ron's understanding of tennis is truly unique.

After that, Wayne and Artest watched a tennis match like this.

The game was very tough. Sharapova, who had just won the Wimbledon championship, was in a tough fight in the first round.

Toward the end of the match, Sharapova hit a powerful shot that bounced off the ground and flew straight into the stands.

Wayne watched the fluorescent-colored tennis ball coming towards him, and quickly reached out to catch the ball, thus avoiding being hit in the head by the tennis ball.

The big screen at the scene also gave a close-up of Wayne and Artest beside him.

"Wei, look, we were caught on camera, hahahaha. Do you know, this game is broadcast live across the United States! You have made money, this trip is not in vain!" Artest said, and gestured to the camera Scissorhands.

After Sharapova saw the familiar faces on the big screen, she couldn't help but start looking for "old acquaintances" in the audience.

Wayne waved slightly at Sharapova and dropped the tennis ball again.

After a short interlude, the game continued.

This small interruption seemed to change Sharapova's luck, and her subsequent matches became smoother and smoother.

In the end, Sharapova took advantage of the east wind at Wimbledon to defeat local Laura Granfor, ending the anxious match and advancing to the next round in a thrilling manner.

"Hey, it's a pity." Artest shook his head, not knowing whether he was regretting that the American player was eliminated, or regretting that he could no longer hear his charming roar.

At the end of the game, Wayne and Artest stood up and planned to leave the arena directly.

Seeing Artest still looking like a "knowing football player", Wayne was so impressed that he couldn't help but admire him.

At this moment, Sharapova ran under the Wayne stands, yelled, and threw a tennis ball up.

"Thank you for the lucky ball."

After that, the sweaty tennis girl left and prepared to be interviewed by reporters.

Wayne caught the tennis ball and shrugged.

Lucky tennis ball?

Speaking of which, it seems that the game really started to turn around when I dropped the ball.

"Hey, do you know that big girl?" Artest narrowed his eyes, as if he was looking at Wayne again.

"It's not like we know each other, we just shot an advertisement together yesterday."

"Tsk, tsk, if I were you, I would call her right now and ask her to go out to celebrate tonight. Bet $5,000 that she won't refuse you."

"Too bad I don't have her phone number."

"Hey, you are a failed man. Forget it, go to a nightclub to have fun at night, I will show you around New York."

"Thanks Ron, but I have to go back and continue training tonight. Besides, I can't drink casually now. Next time, next time."

"Training? It's a holiday now, right?" Artest's tone was surprised. Is there really a fool in this world who doesn't relax during the holidays, but instead trains harder?

"In order to become as strong and powerful as you, I just have to spend more time."

"Hahahaha, there are not many people like you who talk nicely now. Come on, let's give those sissies in the Pistons a hard time in the new season! Well, before the start of the new season, I will personally test your training results."

"Well, that's what I'm here to do."

The two waved goodbye outside the arena. Looking at Artest's strong back, Wayne sighed.

This beast directly determines the fate of the team next season.

If you don't get stronger, you won't be able to stop a fight when the time comes.

Wayne seemed to feel the pain in his muscles at the thought of opening a safe passage between Ben and Artest.

"Ding~"

As soon as Artest left, the system prompt sounded in Wayne's ears.

What's the job this time?

Today’s reward list has been postponed to the afternoon