Chapter 82: Drag Them All Down
The media room in the FedEx Forum was brightly lit with a crowd of people.
Compared to usual, there were clearly many more reporters today, all pointing their cameras at the protagonist on stage.
“Eli, congratulations on your big victory. From the game, you completely suppressed KD. Was this a strategy you set up before the game?” Richard Man from New York eagerly threw out the question.
“Strategy? No, we just executed our normal tactics. As for the matchup result, I think it depends more on the players’ focus and desire to win in the moment.”
ESPN reporter Dick Denny asked: “How do you evaluate Kevin Durant’s performance tonight? Do you think this matchup has put an end to the debate over Rookie of the Year?”
Xu Ling barely thought about it and just smiled as he replied: “Kevin has extraordinary talent; his shooting touch is a gift from God. It’s just that tonight, his gift happened to expire, but no matter, after a good night’s sleep, he’ll still be that Kevin Durant.”
Sometimes, the lives of NBA players are just like Hollywood stars.
Especially those method actors who get lost in their roles, like Heath Ledger. The cost of portraying the greatest Joker in history on screen was isolating himself for months, believing he was the Joker, writing a Joker diary, showing up on set just like the Joker—these all became an immortal performance, but he never came out of it.
By now, Xu Ling’s public image was similarly fixed: he was an arrogant person, someone who wouldn’t allow others to challenge him, someone who did what he said, someone who couldn’t get along with teammates he didn’t like for even a month without it blowing up into “it’s him or me,” someone arrogant to fans, someone who showed no restraint in front of reporters.
Such a villain image was extremely popular among teenagers; he had a unique “coolness,” while for middle-aged and older people, they saw shadows of many sports and Hollywood stars in Xu Ling. Sports reporters said he was as rebellious as Allen Iverson, as arrogant as Stephon Marbury.
Entertainment news loved comparing him even more to Hollywood’s bad boys. Like Russell Crowe, he wouldn’t hide his temper in front of the media; even if he flipped out or smashed things in public, he had to prove he did what he said. Like Sean Penn, he was always hostile under the spotlight, not giving reporters any good face, which instead made him seem real. Some even directly compared him to Robert Downey Jr. on the basketball court: spoiled by talent in his youth, defiant, indulgent, constantly in trouble, yet carrying the innate charm of a screen protagonist—even if you hated him, you had to admit you couldn’t help but watch him.
The media’s endless narratives collectively shaped Xu Ling’s current vivid public image.
His agent suggested he do this, and Adidas encouraged him to do so.
Xu Ling saw this villain shell as his protective coloration. Sometimes even he himself couldn’t tell if it was his true nature or if he was immersed in the fun of playing the villain.
So, when asked about the Rookie of the Year race, he gave this response:
“Rookie of the Year is just an award set up by the media,” Xu Ling said flatly but pointedly. “My goal has never been that trophy, but to lead this team into the playoffs. If I happen to win an award along the way, that’s fine too.”
After the interview, Xu Ling ran into Kevin Durant in the corridor; he was preparing to do his own interview.
“Everything okay, KD?”
Xu Ling asked considerately, like a polite host.
Durant kept a straight face, but inside he was utterly disdainful. Why was this Chinese guy pretending they were close? From the first day they met, the other had shown malice toward him on the court. Why could he act like nothing happened after the game?
“Not bad,”
Durant wanted to say a few polite niceties, but Xu Ling’s face pulled him back to the game, with images flashing in his mind of the other scoring over his head, the FedEx Forum erupting in piercing “Lord Eli” screams—these things all made him uncomfortable, giving him a strong sense of imbalance. Even though he’d accepted that Xu Ling was currently above him, he still wouldn’t lower his stance.
“Every corner of Memphis,” Durant unwittingly voiced his inner thoughts, “isn’t like Seattle, full of vitality.”
Durant paused, then said bluntly: “I don’t like it here.”
Xu Ling now suspected that Durant’s straight-talking BOY image was the embodiment of his inner demon. He acted like he didn’t know what he was saying, but it was clearly an intentional glare at Memphis.
This was the statement of losing the game but not the battle.
But as a volume scorer on a league-bottom team, what right did you have to say these things?
“Of course,” Xu Ling’s tone was mild, almost like an elder’s. “Memphis really isn’t like Seattle; there aren’t so many blanks that need to be filled with future imagination.”
Durant naturally understood the mockery in Xu Ling’s words.
But Xu Ling wasn’t done: “Compared to Seattle, Memphis is more pragmatic; we only celebrate good things that have already happened. Like tonight’s victory. I hope you and Seattle fans can soon experience this real happiness in that vibrant city.”
“Go on, KD. The reporters are waiting to hear your growth insights.”
Like how you stayed in during garbage time down by 30, elegantly dropping 22 on our third string—those media bootlickers who kiss Nike’s ass would love to hear that.
Durant said no more; the last bit of fake friendly atmosphere between him and Xu Ling was shattered by his own honesty.
After Durant walked away, Roderick Craig beside Xu Ling sneered: “I really don’t know what he’s smug about. Seattle, that vibrant city? How does he say that with a straight face? They’re about to lose their team!”
“Why didn’t you say that just now?” Xu Ling gave Craig a look. “Your line is way better sarcasm than mine; I even suspect he didn’t get what I said.”
They walked toward the locker room while chatting, when Craig suddenly remembered something and said: “Why does it seem like every player under Nike doesn’t get along with you?”
“How could that be? I think LeBron is pretty friendly to me.”
“That’s because you hadn’t signed with Adidas yet then.”
Besides, they wouldn’t forget what happened when Xu Ling was negotiating with Nike.
The next day, 《Memphis Commercial Appeal》 used a highly provocative front-page headline 《Judgment Day: Memphis’s “Lord” Baptizes the “Holy Infant”》 to report last night’s game. The article detailed how Xu Ling suppressed Kevin Durant from technique to psychology, and wrote: “It’s time to stop all discussion about ‘ROY.’ Eli Xu wins in the present; he has not only redefined the Memphis Grizzlies but also redefined the rookie benchmark.”
Even Kevin Durant’s biggest supporter, Bill Simmons, publicly shifted his stance: “I must correct my viewpoint. I once defined Eli as an excellent troublemaker, but now I have to admit—he’s an excellent troublemaker who brings victories. What he did to KD last night was cruel and merciless, yet completely effective. The Rookie of the Year suspense ends here.”
Naturally, Nike wouldn’t sit idly by as Durant’s public opinion environment continued to deteriorate. Even if they weren’t in a favorable position now, they had to make their voice heard.
As a recognized “Xu hater,” Chris Sheridan still held a critical attitude toward Xu Ling, but in his latest article, he played a game of dodging the main issues: “Eli’s post-game remarks lacked the most basic respect for his opponent, exposing flaws in his character—and this is exactly the problem we’ve always worried about. Does achieving results in sports justify all of a person’s bad behavior?”
Xu Ling’s camp had long been dissatisfied with Sheridan.
As soon as the article was published, Roderick Craig immediately retweeted the link on Twitter and directly @-ed Sheridan’s account, writing: “Since you, hypocrite, are so keen to discuss ‘character’ and ‘misdeeds,’ why don’t we talk about Kobe and the Eagle County incident? Let’s chat about whether a person who was ultimately cleared by legal proceedings but deemed guilty by countless people still deserves to be seen as a superstar—or do you only dare to go after rookies and not question those established superstars?”
One remark stirred up a thousand waves.
Kobe being dragged in was innocent-level collateral damage.
But Chris Sheridan never hid his identity as Nike’s mouthpiece; his articles clearly conveyed the will and direction of this sports giant. When he spoke against Xu Ling, he represented Nike’s attitude.
The people around Xu Ling were long tired of the endless cycle of proving their innocence. They knew this rhetoric all too well: emphasize facts when they’re in your favor, talk principles when facts aren’t, muddy the waters when neither works—this playbook never failed across industries.
Always playing passive defense won’t win the public opinion war.
Craig’s impulsive remark actually succeeded in expanding the battlefield, pointing the spear at Nike’s top star and igniting another round of fierce debate. Strategically, it was undoubtedly an effective defensive counterattack.
Only, as Xu Ling’s close friend and number one supporter, the hate he attracted would ultimately mostly transfer to Xu Ling himself.
In other words, even though Xu Ling hadn’t formally met Kobe yet, or even played the Lakers, he might already have a Kobe with a bad impression of him, plus a bunch of Lakers fans who wished he’d disappear immediately.
“Nice job, man,” the next day, Xu Ling said to Craig. “You’ve taken a big step forward in the cause of ‘helping me become the most hated guy in the league.'”
Craig chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the slight dissatisfaction in Xu Ling’s tone, and said like a goofy guy: “No need to be polite, Eli. No matter how hard they curse, they can’t crawl through the internet to hit us! Besides, the more they hate you, the more successful we are. After all, no one wastes time hating an irrelevant person.”
Xu Ling looked at his trouble-stirring appearance and could only shake his head with a wry smile.
