Chapter 21: Adverse Effects

This conflict immediately cast a shadow over Tang Bei’s prospects.

As a Chinese player trying to break into the NBA—a league dominated by Black and White athletes—he was inherently at a disadvantage, and to top it off, he had antagonized the league’s emblematic figure.

Starting that afternoon, negative stories about Tang Bei began flooding various media outlets.

Especially in Los Angeles, the local press, eager to defend Lakers legend Jerry West, sensationalized the adverse reports surrounding Tang Bei.

At this point, someone stepped forward to lament Tang Bei’s violence to the Los Angeles Times—a former CBA Seaweed Team backup power forward named Chris Ander.

“That damn guy injured me just to steal my spot. Because of that, I lost my position and was dropped by the Seaweed Team. It’s utterly unfair to me...” he grieved.

Another figure came forward, granting interviews to outlets like the Chicago Sun-Times, whose influence dwarfed Chris Ander’s a hundredfold.

He was the anticipated number one pick in the NBA draft, even more popular in the NCAA than Shaquille O’Neal, and a member of the national team—Kristen Leitner.

“He’s a jerk. When we met, he didn’t say a word and just punched me.”

“Yes, he punched me without any reason, and I didn’t do anything to provoke him. I suspect he has violent tendencies.”

“I wasn’t even prepared; otherwise, I would’ve shown him.”

“I believe he hit me to injure me, hoping to boost his own draft stock. He’s despicable.”

Kristen Leitner’s interview made front-page headlines in several media outlets and was widely reprinted.

For many Americans, a Chinese player who had gone to the U.S. and defeated two White players—one of whom was a household NCAA star—was simply unacceptable.

Suddenly, Tang Bei, practically unknown in America, became infamous overnight, seeming to be cast as a national enemy.

Eric Fleischer, upon seeing these reports, grew anxious.

Though black and red are both vibrant colors, this negative publicity would almost certainly harm Tang Bei’s draft outlook, likely in a profoundly detrimental way. Immediate clarification was necessary.

He hastened to call journalists he knew to clear the air.

But his influence paled in comparison to Jerry West and Kristen Leitner, and his efforts had little effect.

Even when he claimed that Leitner had used racial slurs against Tang Bei, it didn’t help; Leitner’s history of racial discrimination had already been reported and was nothing new.

That evening, the Bulls hosted the Knicks for Game 5 of their second-round series, tied at two games apiece. This game was crucial.

Outside the hotel, Tang Bei boarded the team bus and stopped beside Kristen Leitner.

“What do you want?” Leitner asked, his heart pounding with fear as he sensed Tang Bei’s fierce gaze, fearing a slap. He scrambled toward Robert Horry, nearly sitting on his lap.

“Hey, young man, don’t cause trouble. Find a seat,” a staff member urged.

“Tang, don’t let him affect your draft,” John Liu quickly translated and advised, prompting Tang Bei to take a seat.

Meanwhile, Kristen Leitner was breaking out in a cold sweat.

“Hey, scoot over a bit,” Robert Horry said disdainfully, nudging the human-shaped bundle off his lap.

“Fuck!” Leitner cursed inwardly. If this were the Duke locker room, he would have unleashed on Horry.

Returning to the Chicago Stadium, Tang Bei was energized by the packed stands.

Playing before such a crowd felt exhilarating.

At 7:40, he started the game.

Tang Bei spotted the Knicks’ towering center, the gorilla-like Ewing.

Then, he saw the league’s current superstar—the flying Michael Jordan.

Last season, Jordan had finally overcome the Pistons hurdle and led the Bulls to their first championship, solidifying his status as the league’s top active player. Now, brimming with confidence and ambition, he was determined to defend the title.

His entire being radiated a regal aura.

Tang Bei felt an immense spirit and vitality emanating from Jordan.

Such a man, once at peak fitness, would possess boundless energy.

Tang Bei was only nineteen and not yet at his physical prime; Jordan was clearly in his prime.

The game ended with the Bulls victorious, 96 to 88, an eight-point margin.

Jordan scored 37 points with an impressive 51.7% shooting.

Ewing contributed 25 points but, as a center, managed only 45% shooting, inferior to Jordan’s efficiency—a deserved defeat.

Tang Bei sensed a completely different competitive atmosphere than in the CBA.

First, the intensity of the confrontation.

The CBA was competitive but could not match the NBA’s level. This game’s interior was a brutal brawl.

When Jordan drove into the paint, he was repeatedly knocked down.

The Knicks’ number 34 played aggressively, almost like fighting rather than defending the ball—each block seemed aimed at the man, not the ball.

If a Bulls player dared to go for a dunk, even Jordan might be elbowed off mid-air.

Next was talent.

The CBA was mostly composed of players discarded or overlooked by the NBA. The difference in natural ability was glaring; NBA athletes seemed capable of almost supernatural feats.

Then came technique and tactical systems.

The skills and strategies displayed by these two teams—from offense to defense—were leagues beyond the CBA.

If the Seaweed Team faced either of these squads, they would be utterly demolished.

Especially Michael Jordan: despite the Knicks’ fierce double-team defense, he still scored 37 points at a higher shooting percentage than Ewing, proving his claim as the league’s top active player.

After the game, several rookies approached Jordan to greet him.

One was Kristen Leitner, who, with some reserve, said, “Hey, Michael, I’m Kristen Leitner. Soon, I’ll be your teammate.”

“Take this,” Jordan said, scrutinizing Leitner before chewing gum and tossing him a sweat towel.

Leitner caught the towel, immediately hit by the pungent odor of sweat, feeling annoyed but concealing it.

“Kid, I heard you got beaten up?” Jordan’s energy was boundless; even during the crucial Game 5 of the second round, he made time for other pursuits like gambling and golf. He had just seen the related news.

Leitner’s face darkened quickly, aggrieved: “I never expected him to strike. Honestly, the guy’s crazy.”

“Heh!” Jordan glanced toward the stands and soon spotted the anomaly among the rookies—Tang Bei.

Their eyes met, and between these two powerful spirits, a spark seemed to ignite.

“Kid, don’t complain. You should’ve hit back.”

Sensing Jordan’s steely resolve and fierce competitive spirit, he shot Tang Bei a sharp glance before looking away.

“I will,” Tang Bei replied.

Leitner looked at Tang Bei with venom; he had never been slapped before, and he vowed he would settle this score eventually.