The Whip of the God of Basketball

Marne-Pete has been very busy with his small bar business recently. Since it ended its amateur boxing business and switched to sports broadcasting, the popularity of this small bar has slowly grown again because the Celtics performed so well in the finals.

On the night of the third game in Los Angeles, it was past 7 pm Western time, and it was already past 10 pm in Boston, but this did not dampen the enthusiasm of Boston fans at all. A large number of Celtics fans in the South End flocked to Pete's bar to watch the game together on the bar's TV.

The third game was the most thrilling and intense game played by the Celtics in the playoffs. When the team fell behind in the first half, beer sales in the bar surged because fans needed alcohol to calm down their nerves. Feeling. When the Celtics caught up in the second half, the roar in the bar almost blew the roof off.

And when Karl Malone left the game due to injury and Arenas made a crucial three-pointer, Pete could even feel it through his small bar that the whole of Boston was boiling. This is a completely different feeling from last year's finals. The championship is already close at hand.

Therefore, on the night when the fourth finals is about to begin, Pete must prepare for tonight's game-watching gathering, prepare a lot of alcohol and drinks, and decorate his small bar, not only to celebrate the Celtics' championship, but also to have a good time. Make a fortune.

"Hang the flag higher, higher... put the FO and FO flags to the side, yes, don't block the customers' view." It's about four o'clock in the afternoon, and Pete is hanging flags in the bar with the clerk. There are replicas of the Celtics championship flag, and there are also "Fo, Fo, Fo, Fo" flags painted by Pete himself. In short, he wants to fill the place with a championship atmosphere.

It was around 7 o'clock in the evening, more than two hours before the start of the game, and it was completely dark. One after another, young fans began to come to the bar to drink and chat, while waiting for the game to start. Peter felt quite satisfied. The money he earned during the finals in the past few days was higher than his income in the previous two months.

So Pete can no longer sit in a high chair in a daze like before. He must greet the guests with the bartender and mix drinks for the guests behind the bar.

At this time, a middle-aged man with a big belly sat in front of Peter, took off his hat, revealed his somewhat bald head and said, "A glass of tequila, preferably from Mexico."

Young people who come to the bar either drink beer directly or order some cocktails for excitement. Only such middle-aged people will order tequila directly. And from his clothes and temperament, Pete can tell that this is a rental. car driver.

"How is business lately? There will be more customers on rainy days. It's hard to go to work after drinking." Peter asked. The two were about the same age and could chat. At the same time, he handed him a glass of Mexican agave wine.

"Do you know what I do? This is my first time here...this ghost place in the South District." The middle-aged man said as he drank the wine he was handed, and his tired face immediately relaxed. , exuding a unique brilliance.

"When I meet a lot of people, I can always tell what their occupation is, especially in places like bars. I have only completely misjudged one person in my life, and the others are fine." After Peter finished speaking, he gave the middle-aged man Got a drink.

This time, the middle-aged man did not drink it all in one gulp, but put the glass to his mouth and slowly tasted it, savoring the unique taste of tequila.

"I came here after I heard that you can watch NBA games here. I would rather give up doing business in the middle of the night. I remember that many bars in Boston used to be able to watch NBA live broadcasts at night. At that time, Mostert was still the commentator. We would Turn off the sound on the TV and watch." The middle-aged man mentioned the basketball past in Boston. At that time, Johnny Most was the basketball commentator on Boston radio. Boston fans have been accustomed to his voice since the 1960s. So even though there was live TV later and the TV station had special commentary, Bobon people were still used to turning off the TV sound, turning on the radio, and listening to Most's voice while watching the TV broadcast.

Pete also smiled when he mentioned this ancient memory. It seemed that both of them were old fans from Boston's golden era. When such old fans meet, there are always endless topics and stories to tell. While the bar was still not full, Peter chatted with him.

"To be honest Marco, I didn't expect to see the Celtics look like this now. After experiencing the 1990s, I would have been completely desperate." Pete said, the middle-aged man's name is Benjamin Marco. A regular taxi driver in Boston.

"Me too. For a long time, I could only brag to the passengers in the car about how brilliant the Celtics were in the past. Every year I would buy tickets for important Celtic games. Do you know that I I have been saving money, hoping to go to the Garden Arena to watch the finals one day. But I gave up this hope in 2000, and I used the money to buy a car I like...haha, so now I can only go to Watching the game at the bar!" Marco said with a self-deprecating smile. Tickets for the Celtics Finals have long been hard to get, and judging from the current situation, the Finals will not return to Boston.

Pete smiled, leaned forward and whispered to Marco: "You know, my bar used to be an amateur boxing venue, and over there, where the seats are now, is a boxing ring. I make money by organizing boxing matches and gambling... …Then we had a boxer here who offended the South Side underworld. Frank, you know what? That guy escaped, got himself sent to jail, and guess what?”

Facing Pete's betrayal, Marco hurriedly asked: "What? Does this have anything to do with now? Is he dead?"

Pete smiled mysteriously and said: "Of course he didn't die. If he had died, there wouldn't be the current Celtics. He is the current Celtics head coach, Fox Leon."

Hearing this, Marco looked shocked, while Pete showed a satisfied smile. He had always been quite proud of this little secret. He enjoyed the way other people were surprised when they knew this secret, just like telling others that he knew the assassin of JFK. The same as the murderer.

But soon, Marco regained his composure. He cleared his throat, took a sip of tequila, and also approached Peter and said: "Actually, I also have a little secret. Three years ago, I sent a passenger to Kyle At the headquarters building of the Celtics, he said at the time that he was a staff member of the Celtics. I was deeply impressed by this passenger. He had long black hair and looked a little depressed, but very energetic. Because he was a Celtic staff, so I waived his fare... Later I saw him on TV and the news and recognized him at a glance."

When Peter listened to Marco's narration, he didn't look like he was lying, and he also knew who Marco was talking about.

"It seems that we are very destined, because of the Celtics, because of Fox-Leon... Come on, have a drink. I hope your dreams come true tonight, and I hope glory returns to Boston." Pete raised the glass in his hand and said Marco drank it all in one gulp.

At ten o'clock Eastern time, the TV station focused its cameras on the Staples Center Arena thousands of miles away, and the game was about to begin. In the fourth game of the 2004 Finals, the battle that decided the championship, the O'Brien Cup had been placed by the staff on the side of the court.

Countless fans are watching this game, especially in Boston, and it is destined to be a sleepless night. The North Shore Garden Arena was full without a game, and the big screen broadcast live footage of the game. Tens of thousands of fans were concerned about the fate of the Celtics through the live broadcast.

The Boston Police Department is all working overtime tonight, no one has a break, and is guarding the streets of Boston. Once the game is over and the Celtics win the championship, parades and carnivals will be inevitable.

Reed Auerbach stayed in his Boston apartment. In his small study, he turned on the radio, lit a cigar, lay on a comfortable leather chair, and followed the entire process of the game. The doctor had long told Auerbach not to stay up late, but tonight, Auerbach knew he was destined to have no sleep.

"That boy, are you finally going to finish it all? Hey...it still feels like a dream..."