Chapter 157 Let Us Be Silly Together

"What kind of offense is this? He is a player who needs to score against defense. The more defenders on him, the higher his shooting percentage, and vice versa. What the hell kind of persona is this?"

Barkley could not help complaining as he talked, finding such a setup utterly bizarre.

If opponents simply left David Stern—no, Star Xinghui—completely wide open every single time, how on earth was he supposed to shoot?

Because of Star Xinghui's absurd persona, a hilarious scene unfolded on the court once again.

Star Xinghui shouted at the sophomores, "Defend me, please!" Yet not a single person paid him any attention. They completely left him open and tightened their defense on everyone else.

Seeing the shot clock running out, Star Xinghui 'reluctantly' heaved an airball.

The other players intentionally put no effort into rebounding, so the ball naturally ended up in Andrew Bogut's hands.

Within two possessions, the spectators had already memorized Bogut's persona, finding it immensely amusing.

It was the sophomore's turn to attack, and Ben Gordon drove for a dunk, only to completely miss and fly past the rim.

His persona was supposed to be that of a dunking master. When Barkley read out this persona, the audience burst into laughter.

After all, the spectators were very familiar with Ben Gordon; he was averaging 17 points per game that season and already showing star potential.

At the same time, everyone knew that Gordon's athletic ability was merely average, that he rarely dunked, and that he made his living through jump shots.

Consequently, having his persona turn out to be a dunking master was utterly comical.

Even more side-splitting was the fact that Gordon missed his very first dunk attempt. Was this supposed to be a dunking master?

Seeing this, the crowd more or less understood that this group of players was deliberately putting on a show—and a completely illogical comedy show at that. They were just having fun.

Yet, not many viewers minded.

Because the comical scenes these players enacted, combined with their hilarious personas, created a tremendously comedic effect when put together.

The freshmen attacked, with Star Xinghui handling the ball once again, and once again he was left completely unguarded.

The audience chuckled anew. In official games, Star Xinghui had always been a heavily guarded shooter; when had he ever been left as wide open as this?

Yet, despite being completely unattended, Star Xinghui wore an expression of intense struggle, too afraid to shoot.

Next came an even more hilarious spectacle.

Bogut, Chris Paul, and Nate Robinson suddenly ran over, grabbed the players guarding them, carried them right in front of Star Xinghui, set them down, and surrounded him.

The condition of facing a defender was now met—three of them, in fact.

Star Xinghui happily took the shot, and it went in.

"......"

The spectators were dumbfounded.

Good grief, they never in their wildest dreams imagined that Star Xinghui's special ability could be utilized this way.

However, wasn't this technically a foul?

What about the referees?

The referees were signaling that the basket counted, causing the audience to collapse with laughter once more.

"What the fuck, you can actually do that?!"

Barkley covered his face, laughing.

He was thoroughly defeated. He genuinely wondered just how abnormal Star Xinghui's brain must be.

No normal person could ever come up with such a crazy idea.

At that moment, Kenny Smith chimed in with a deadpan expression, "Although we all know they are performing, everyone must not think this kind of act is easy. If Star hadn't made that shot just now, it would have equaled a failed performance because it didn't match his current persona. But he made it, and that is no easy feat."

The audience, understanding Smith's remark, nodded involuntarily. That was indeed true.

"A clutch player, truly reliable."

The spectators sighed with emotion.

The freshmen had used an outrageous method to help Star Xinghui score.

Next, it was the sophomores' turn. Dwight Howard directly picked up Ben Gordon and sprinted to the rim, assisting him in completing a dunk.

"......"

The audience was speechless.

Fortunately, the crowd was already growing slightly accustomed to it, so this time they didn't laugh quite as excessively.

If they kept laughing like this, they wouldn't be able to take it anymore.

On the court, Star Xinghui was actually arguing with the referee, insisting that Howard had traveled.

The audience was blown away once again. They desperately wanted to ask him: where is your face?

You literally had your teammate carry someone over to guard you, yet you're complaining that the other person fouled? Outrageous.

"I didn't even have the ball in my hands, what kind of travel is that? If I'm not traveling, what am I supposed to do, hop around the court?"

Howard retorted while jumping up and down.

In the end, the referee ruled the basket good, and because Star Xinghui had falsely accused an innocent man, he was slapped with a technical foul.

With even the referees joining in the chaos, the audience had long since grown numb.

The freshmen attacked, and Nate Robinson tried to drive, only to find himself trapped in a double-team.

With no teammates around to receive a pass, he looked ready to turn the ball over.

The audience blinked in bewilderment. Why had things suddenly turned serious?

Please don't, we still want to watch those clowns goof around.

Many viewers cried out in their hearts.

As it turned out, they had worried for nothing. Until the second half arrived, how could the game possibly be played seriously?

Nate passed the ball to Luther Head on the bench, then shook off his defender, ran into open space, received the return pass from Luther Head, and slashed to the rim for two points.

The referee once again signaled that the basket counted.

"If official games could be played like this, I suppose basketball would become a lot more interesting," a spectator remarked.

Regrettably, his comment failed to win the agreement of the surrounding crowd.

Such clownish antics were fine to mess around with during the All-Star weekend, but they should never be pulled in official games. Official matches should remain centered on true competition and kept serious.

The sophomores attacked.

Barkley: "Nate is still trying to block shots. He has attempted it three times and failed every single one. Is he really the block champion?"

Possession turned over, and the freshmen attacked.

Chris Paul continued to post up against Howard. This time, Howard feigned a slow reaction, and Paul executed a fadeaway jumper, looking ready to complete the shot.

Seeing this, the audience was almost moved to tears. Did this brain-dead persistence finally yield a reward?

As it turned out, Nate Robinson materialized out of nowhere and stuffed Paul with a massive block.

Then, mimicking Kevin Garnett, Nate beat his chest wildly, looking incomparably excited.

"Good lord, so his title as the block champion refers to blocking his own teammates? Does that mean Ford's steal title also requires him to steal from his teammates?"

Barkley bantered, and the audience roared with laughter.

The sophomores attacked, with Howard shooting a three-pointer from the perimeter.

He jumped and released the shot.

Star Xinghui rushed forward, and as the two landed, their fingers interlaced.

Star Xinghui had made a mistake the day before; he was on the same team as Chris Paul, so guarding Paul to pull off that comedic bit had been slightly inappropriate.

Thus, this particular script ultimately fell into Howard's hands.

With their fingers interlaced and hands held, the two walked leisurely toward the sophomore half-court with strolling steps, resembling newly minted lovers taking a walk in the setting sun.

The problem was that the two of them were full-grown men. Their gay-vibe antics directly caused over a hundred people in the arena to spit out their drinks, soiling their clothes or faces.

Fortunately, all the spectators knew they were acting; otherwise, they would have instantly lost countless fans.

"Oh, stop it, my eyes! Will all children under eighteen please close your eyes immediately? This is not suitable for you to watch."

Barkley laughed as he complained.

Following that, both sides played a few more possessions, continuing to flesh out their respective personas.

At the same time, they utilized their bizarre personas to generate contrasting comedic effects.

When two-thirds of the first half had elapsed, both teams began making substitutions.

After all, according to the plan, the second half had to be played seriously, with all the comedy confined to the first half.

The few players on the bench who hadn't played yet also needed a chance to make their appearance.

After the substitutions, attentive viewers noticed that the sophomores actually had six players lingering on the court.

And then, they casually played two possessions as if nothing was amiss.

Freshman coach Brett flew into a rage. After his protests to the referee proved ineffective, he stripped off his outer suit jacket.

Good grief, the fellow was actually wearing a basketball jersey underneath.

A suit jacket paired with a basketball jersey?

Before the audience could ponder it further, Brett had already sprinted onto the court, attempting to help his team play defense.

Five-on-five had turned into six-on-six, leaving the spectators entirely speechless.

Soon, the first half came to an end.

Just when the audience assumed the second half would continue in the same vein, both teams suddenly straightened up after the intermission and began playing a normal game, exceeding everyone's expectations.

Yet, they found themselves utterly satisfied.

Star Xinghui knew very well that too much of a good thing could be counterproductive.

The audience had laughed enough in the first half and already built up a certain immunity. Continuing the comedy in the second half wouldn't yield the best results.

On the contrary, returning to a normal game would leave the audience with a lingering sense of nostalgia.

Moreover, basketball was ultimately a competitive sport; perpetual comedy felt inappropriate and strayed somewhat from the core purpose of the game.

Going all out with a real contest in the second half was the only way to embody the true charm of competitive basketball.

In short, this shift in style at this exact moment was pitch-perfect.

"Brilliant, truly brilliant," David Stern muttered to himself.

If the second half had continued as a comedic performance, Stern would have acknowledged Star Xinghui's talent, but he wouldn't have given such high praise as he did now.

Right now, everything Star Xinghui had done—his grasp of the rhythm—seemed utterly flawless in Stern's eyes.

At any rate, he couldn't think of a better way to handle it.

"This little guy is going to put an old man like me in a tight spot."

Stern felt a slight sense of helplessness.

The All-Star Game was the day after tomorrow, and in such a short span of time, he couldn't think of a way for the main event to outperform the Rising Stars Challenge.

When the star-studded main game ended up receiving lower praise than the rookie showcase, he would inevitably become the target of mockery.