Chapter 129: The Perfect Cure For The Sufferings Of Life
“Jason thinks my final shot choice was terrible, but luckily, I made it.”
Xu Ling talked about his own final layup buzzer-beater like this.
Garnett, who looked like he wanted to kill someone during the game, also gave Xu Ling extremely high recognition.
“I’ve seen a lot of players in this league, but few play as well as Eli, you know what I mean? He’s just a rookie, yet he’s already one of the best offensive players in the league. He wrecked us tonight!” Garnett said with emotion, “He’s the real deal star!”
Compared to the tense atmosphere during the game, the post-game between the Grizzlies and Celtics was very subdued.
The victors weren’t showy, and the losers were convinced.
However, this was perhaps because they all understood that this was their last meeting of the season.
The Celtics wouldn’t waver in their championship belief over losing one game, and the Grizzlies wouldn’t lock in a playoff spot just because they beat the league’s number one team.
The road is still long; there’s no need to obsess over one night’s win or loss.
The next day, the buzzer-beater Xu Ling shot in the TD Garden continued to send shockwaves through the basketball world, like a boulder thrown into the lake’s heart, with ripples spreading to every corner.
Senior reporter Jesse Leils from San Antonio wrote proudly on Twitter: “Since the Grizzlies’ opener buzzer-beater against us, I’ve been emphasizing that Eli is the next great player. Now, this has become league consensus. That cold-blooded killer instinct in crunch time is a gift from God that can’t be taught.”
Even the usually arrogant Boston, this city proud of its sports tradition, had to lower its proud head and acknowledge Xu Ling’s performance.
Boston’s flagship media《Boston Globe》 unusually featured a large photo of Xu Ling calmly turning away after the buzzer-beater on the front page of the next day’s sports edition.
The lush green background contrasted sharply with his stern figure, and the headline carried a complex respect: “How the Regicide Dominated the TD Garden.”
Even the most stubborn, arrogant Celtics diehards flooded Xu Ling’s Twitter comments. Their tone still carried the rough, unrestrained Boston edge, but it was worlds apart from the pre-game insults.
“You’re a fucking tough bastard!”
“Well done, Chinaman, see you in the playoffs.”
“Hey, next time can you not fucking pretend we don’t exist?”
Between the lines, you could still taste that deep-rooted arrogance, but they no longer denied Xu Ling’s strength—this alone was the highest level of recognition.
That said, media outside Boston hadn’t forgotten how the Celtics had previously positioned themselves as “Eastern Conference bosses,” looking down on the Western Conference pack.
Especially after they ended the Rockets’ shocking 22-game win streak and effortlessly crushed the Hornets at home, the narrative of “Eastern Conference strength surpassing the West” and “Green Army represents a higher competitive level” was rampant, with arrogance making the entire West uncomfortable.
So, what now?
The Grizzlies beat the Celtics on the road, and they’re currently only ninth in the West—doesn’t that say something?
Maybe the Celtics aren’t that strong?
The Western media’s counterattack is about to begin, but these trivial matters have nothing to do with the Grizzlies.
They don’t even want to get involved; beating the Celtics is certainly exciting, but on the same night, the Nuggets also beat the Eastern Conference powerhouse Detroit Pistons on the road.
The confidence the Nuggets gained in Detroit was no less than what the Grizzlies got from beating the Celtics.
They still trail the Nuggets by one win.
They still need to keep chasing, keep fighting.
In the morning, the Grizzlies boarded the team private jet for the return trip.
The next opponent is the Los Angeles Lakers, who are fading from playoff contention—this is their third meeting this season, but unlike the previous two, it’s no longer a spotlight game.
The only gimmick is Pau Gasol and Mike Miller returning to Memphis, but aside from local media, no one elsewhere would care.
The plane soared above the clouds, and Xu Ling sat by the window.
Beating the Celtics, especially buzzer-beating like that in the TD Garden, felt really good.
He skimmed the post-game public opinion; his heart wasn’t much stirred.
His thoughts returned to that final possession. The instant Pierce was shaken, Garnett’s help defense shadow, and the subtle touch adjustment after the in-air contact.
Then, Xu Ling fell asleep.
This was a good thing; in the NBA, great players either have incredible energy or excellent sleep quality.
Xu Ling was the latter.
Afternoon, Memphis, Grizzlies training hall.
Since they face the Lakers at home tomorrow, Mark Cuban didn’t let the players relax.
They haven’t entered the playoffs yet; the battle for the spot with the Nuggets continues—now it’s about who breaks first.
Xu Ling was one of the first to arrive at the arena.
After simple warm-up stretches, he began personal shooting practice.
Unlike usual, assistant coach Dave Joerger stood beside him, verbally reviewing several possessions from last night.
“Look here, Eli,” Joerger pointed to the outside, “when you’re running off-ball using Darko’s screen, Garnett’s switch position. Next time, you can add a reverse fake move to create a more comfortable half-second of space.”
Xu Ling nodded, dribbling while mentally simulating the details Joerger described. What he pursued wasn’t simple scoring, but how to score more efficiently and consistently under higher intensity defense.
Compared to Iavaroni, Joerger was a details guy.
He liked using a few signature possessions to review an entire game, and Xu Ling found this kind of review very useful.
This increased Xu Ling’s respect for Joerger day by day.
Clearly, on a personal level, Joerger was obviously better at helping him improve than Iavaroni.
However, Xu Ling’s personal awareness hadn’t inflated to the point of thinking he could handpick the team’s coaching staff.
Trevor Ariza walked in full of energy. He was key to beating the Celtics last night, earning tons of praise for his efficient 18 points off the bench.
“Hey, ‘Boston Nightmare,’ how’s it feel?” Lowry teased with a smile.
Ariza gave a shy smile and waved it off: “Don’t mess around; it was everyone’s effort.”
With that, Ariza went to Xu Ling’s side and began shooting warm-ups.
“Eli, I dreamed of your buzzer-beater again last night!” Ariza said while dribbling, “It was so awesome!”
Xu Ling teasingly asked: “In your dream, did my buzzer-beater go in?”
“No.” Ariza admitted honestly, “Darko grabbed the offensive rebound and passed to me in the last second, then…”
“Then you missed?” Xu Ling finally turned around, raising an eyebrow at him.
Ariza scratched his head embarrassedly: “Don’t know, because I woke up after that.”
That was pretty lifelike.
After all, most people wake up disappointingly before the main event in wet dreams, so this basketball version was the same.
Ariza tried several shots, but the basketball kept brushing past the rim.
His shooting form looked a bit stiff; clearly not a natural shooter. After several bricks, he frustratedly slapped the ball, the poor touch involuntarily reminding him of his struggles over the past three years.
After being drafted by the Knicks in the 2004 draft, he thought he’d found the dawn of his career, only to step into a quagmire.
Rookie season on the bench, and the second year he ran into one of the NBA’s nightmare coaches—Larry Brown.
This Hall of Fame coach rejected Ariza’s basketball philosophy in a nearly humiliating way. When Ariza aspired to be a 3D player, Brown dismissed it as “pipe dream,” claiming it was a delusion he could never achieve.
Imagine a young player not yet established in the league being completely negated by such an authoritative coach—what a devastating blow to his confidence? Ariza’s shooting belief collapsed entirely, leaving only mechanical shots, and in what should have been a growth sophomore season, he regressed across the board—minutes plummeted, shooting percentages cliff-dived.
Brown, endlessly feuding with Isiah Thomas, treated Ariza like a victim of water hell, warning him: “Never shoot in front of me, never.”
Ultimately, Brown left New York with an eight-figure buyout, and the dismal Ariza was packaged as a chip and sent to Orlando.
With the Magic, he still couldn’t escape Brown’s curse, failing to make a single three-pointer all season.
Then Ariza bounced like a ball to Los Angeles, yet still got no opportunity with the Lakers, until he arrived in Memphis in that league-changing four-team trade.
Four years, four teams—this was the standard resume of a player about to be discarded by the NBA.
Until last night, when he scored 18 in the TD Garden.
But now, the continuous clangs seemed to mercilessly remind him: that was just a fluke.
Just as frustration welled up, he heard Xu Ling beside him say: “Maybe you should ask Dr. Ross for a peanut butter and jam sandwich again.”
Ariza was stunned at first, then remembered that before last night’s game, he had indeed eaten Dr. Ross’s special sandwich and delivered his career-best performance.
“You’re right,” Ariza nodded emphatically, the gloom vanishing from his face, “Looks like I’ll make this my lucky recipe.”
This might be why Xu Ling didn’t like jam sandwiches—because they’re sweet enough to make Ariza forget the pain Larry Brown caused him.
This absolutely wasn’t a strategy worth promoting, but sweetness is indeed the most straightforward way to combat life’s bitterness.
