Chapter 40: The Supersonics Strike Again! Jordan Goes Into Rage Mode!

After experiencing two consecutive losses in early December, the Bulls finally found their rhythm again, embarking on a new winning streak. This time, they once again reached a nine-game winning streak. As they hit this milestone, the United Center in Chicago braced itself for a formidable opponent.

The Seattle SuperSonics, a Western Conference powerhouse that had defeated them over half a month ago, had arrived in Chicago. Speaking of the SuperSonics, one must mention their star duo: "The Reign Man" Shawn Kemp and "The Glove" Gary Payton. This ace combination featured a power forward who could fly and dunk with the most ferocity in the 90s, and a guard known for being the only player in the 90s capable of making Michael Jordan look like Kobe Bryant.

Under their leadership, bolstered by two-time All-Star Detlef Schrempf, other seasoned veterans, and a roster of capable players—especially after the arrival of top-tier head coach George Karl—this team had finally reached its full potential. They had achieved 55 or more wins for four consecutive years, including a 63-win season where they clinched the top seed in the West. In the 1994-1995 season, all three of their core players were named to the All-NBA Team.

Unfortunately, they had never managed to break through to the NBA Finals, with their best performance being a trip to the Western Conference Finals. Last season, the 57-win SuperSonics were upset by the 48-win Lakers, suffering a 1-3 "gentleman's sweep" in the first round. Payton, known for his elite defense, was completely dismantled by Nick "The Van Crazy" Van Exel—a series that remains arguably the most embarrassing of his career.

After that failure, the SuperSonics management took stock and acquired former All-Star Hersey Hawkins to bolster their offense, launching another championship campaign. Their victory over the Bulls at home in late November was their most brilliant performance of the season so far. It was after that game that the SuperSonics' morale soared; they hadn't lost a single game from November to mid-December, racking up a 15-game winning streak. Now, they sat firmly at the top of the Western Conference, outperforming powerhouses like the Spurs, Jazz, and Lakers.

Tonight presented the perfect opportunity to further their quest for the league's best record. A sweep of the Bulls would not only boost their morale but also brighten their championship prospects. It would also allow them to surpass the Bulls in the standings and become the true league leaders.

With the team in such excellent form, the notoriously loud-mouthed Payton gave an interview shortly after arriving in Chicago. He boasted, "I know, I know 95% of this league is afraid of Jordan, so afraid they don't even dare to match up with him. But honestly, I'm not afraid of him at all! I can handle him! And I believe that if there's one person in this league who can handle him, it's me!"

"Let's wait and see! We'll take down the Bulls tonight, and I’ll take down Jordan! And if they make it to the Finals, I'll take them down again! You can pass this on to Jordan. Honestly, I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Oh, and if you're passing it on, do me a favor and add one more thing: The basketball court is no longer for you, Michael! Go back to playing baseball! Of course, that's assuming anyone even wants a scrub like you on the baseball field!"

Payton's incredibly arrogant remarks inevitably caused an uproar. That night, countless media members and fans kept their eyes glued to their television screens. They wanted to see if Jordan really couldn't handle Payton anymore, or if Payton’s big mouth would lead to a brutal thrashing at Jordan’s hands.

Inside the Bulls' locker room, the atmosphere was as somber as a funeral. No one dared to speak, let alone crack jokes as they usually did. The reason? Jordan, eyes wide and silent, radiated a murderous intent so thick it was almost tangible. He had been thoroughly enraged by Payton's words. The king of the court had made up his mind to teach Payton a lesson tonight.

"Make way, please make way! I can't see where I'm going!" Lin Tian's voice suddenly cut through the silence. He pushed open the locker room door, and his appearance immediately grabbed everyone's attention. Lin Tian had actually pushed a cart inside, and on it sat Payton—well, to be precise, a punching bag with a life-sized photo of Payton pasted onto it.

"Michael, want to let off some steam?" Lin Tian said with a smile. "I figured you wouldn't be happy, so I had this portrait made on short notice! Cost me a fortune! Come on, throw a few punches and feel better!"

Everyone was stunned. Making a joke with Jordan at a time like this? Lin Tian must be crazy! He was definitely asking for trouble! Wasn't he afraid Jordan would take his frustration out on him? Well, he wasn't afraid. He could handle himself.

Then, to everyone's surprise, Jordan stood up with an unfinished slice of pizza, slammed it directly onto 'Payton's' face, and delivered two heavy punches to the bag. Seemingly not satisfied, he lifted his left leg and unleashed a flurry of flying kicks. Even after knocking 'Payton' to the ground, he didn't stop, stepping firmly on the bag.

"Thanks, that felt good! Tonight, Payton will be in even worse shape than this punching bag!" Jordan said. Still clearly unsatisfied, he grabbed another slice of pizza and smashed it onto the bag before declaring with satisfaction, "Tonight, if you don't beat the life out of these Seattle guys—if you don't make them suffer—don't bother showing up for practice tomorrow!"

"Beat them to a pulp! F***! This league has really forgotten about me! First that Anderson guy, now Payton! Do they really think winning one game makes them invincible? I'll show him just how big the gap is between him and me!"

After spitting on 'Payton's' face, Jordan led the way out of the locker room.

The United Center was exceptionally frantic tonight. Chicago fans were already known for their fervor and passion. Tonight, faced with such a provocation from their bitter rivals, they unleashed 120% of their energy and volume to cheer for their team. They wanted to see their Bulls brutally dismantle this group of arrogant invaders.

When Jordan led the Bulls onto the court, the deafening boos instantly transformed into earth-shattering cheers. Jordan ignored the roar of the crowd, walked straight up to Payton, and said nonchalantly, "Don't tell me you're not guarding me tonight."