nba championship predators

Chapter 545 Surprised Iron Crotch Kungfu

Robert Horry was assessed a flagrant second-degree foul and was ejected.

Amidst the frenzied boos of the fans in the American West Arena, Horry ran out in a panic, afraid that if he ran too slowly, a wine bottle would be thrown down...

Popovich is a veteran film star, he is cheap and good-looking, his face is not blushing, his heart is not beating, and he is still spitting at the referee:

"Blind Doug, my big radish was unintentional, it can't be called a malicious foul..."

The corner of the referee's mouth twitched and his eyelids twitched.

If it wasn't for the Western Conference semifinals, I really want to kick this old man out!

You have to figure it out!

The buddies are biased, not because they love the Spurs, but because they hate the Suns too much!
Don't be proud of being favored, okay?
At this time, the genius doctor Carter had already led his team and carried Nash away on a stretcher.

From the beginning to the end, Nash did not open his eyes. He looked very painful, and his life and death were uncertain.

Zhao Ke began to worry.

Madan, isn't this crotch protector from Putian?
The crotch protector is of course no problem.

This is Mili's family, not Huaxia, and the Putian family has not yet extended its claws abroad.

Probably, Zhao Ke had some misunderstandings about the crotch protector.

Wearing this thing can indeed play a protective role, but it would be too false to say that it can completely avoid injury and not feel pain.

Among other things, even wearing a bulletproof vest and being shot will cry for a long time.

It's just iron pants.

It's not that I have practiced iron crotch skills!

Popovich is still chattering with the referee, D'Antoni is still scratching his head, who should be replaced?
At this time, the big screen in the American West Arena suddenly cut to the player tunnel.

Before, the big screen had been scrolling and playing the slow motion of Nash's injury just now, so suddenly everything and the screen dimming attracted everyone's attention.

At the end of the player tunnel, a man stood there—

Steve Nash!

The fans all screamed:

"Oh sweetie, that's great, he's still alive..."

Nash had just walked out of the locker room, clearly still in pain.

After walking a couple of times, he stopped again.

Bending down, put your hands on your knees to breathe.

Through the big screen, everyone saw Nash's difficulties.

Gradually, the American West Arena became quiet, and the fans stared at the big screen silently, praying silently, hoping to see Nash come out strong and okay.

After a while, Nash straightened up and stomped his feet.

Why stomp?

Don't ask me, ask God of Examination.

Nash took a firm step again, and this time he didn't stop, walking along the player tunnel to the court.

The fans stood up, clapped and shouted loudly:

"MVP, MVP, MVP..."

Nash stopped on the edge of the court, waved to the fans who loved him, and suddenly screamed again...

D'Antoni came forward and asked with a look of surprise:

"Steve, are you okay?"

There was a honey smile on Nash's face behind the mask, and said:

"It's okay, Dr. Carter has checked it, everything is normal, it's just a little pain. It's much better now!"

Stoudemire stared at Nash's nest in disbelief.

Everyone saw that Nash was pushed into the air, so it's okay, this is too weird!
Stoudemire turned into a cat staring at the crotch, Nash had a chill, rubbed his arms, and quickly broke the news:

"Amalei, I'm actually wearing a crotch protector today, so I'm fine. My structure is the same as yours, so don't be envious!"

Stoudemire smiled embarrassedly, rubbed the back of his head, walked over to give Nash a big hug, and said in a low voice:

"Fake oil, we are all worried to death..."

Nash patted Stoudemire on the back:
"It's okay, Amare. Come on, let's make the Spurs cry together!"

The Spurs look good over there.

Popovich stopped harassing the referee. He stared blankly at the revived Nash, feeling cold in his heart.

The tricks were exhausted, and BigShotBob was lost, you are alive and kicking there, you are worthy...

Ah, are you sorry?

The Spurs generals stopped making noises, laughed, and imagined the future.

In this world, there really are——

Iron crotch skill?
Mama, I want to go home.

This is a fantasy world, and I'm a Muggle!

Nash's "Return of the King" undoubtedly greatly improved the morale of the Suns, and at the same time severely suppressed the arrogance of the Spurs.

Two free throws, for Nash, who made 90.6% of his free throws, that is two points and one throw!

Seven seconds later, Amare Stoudemire was hanging on the rim.

It's not two points and one throw, but two points and one dunk.

Four points to the account!

The Suns have already led by 13 points!

In the second half, the Suns' overall shooting percentage rose to 63.6%, and their three-point shooting percentage was as high as 66.7%.

The clang of iron was already there, but the Spurs were even worse.

The overall shooting rate was 44.4%, and the three-point shooting rate was 33.3%. No one could save them.

The final score was:
81:111
The Spurs lost by 30 points, lost and lost, and there was no reasoning!

Steve Nash is not a clay figurine, he has a temper.

He was beaten like a rag doll by the Spurs in the last game, and he endured it.

This is a series, and as the most important core technology of the Suns, he has to stay on the court. What if he can't bear it?
But this time, even bombs came!

Why endure a moment of calm and take a step back to open up the sea and the sky?
That's all fart!
In fact, in this real world, the real chestnuts are:
The more you forbear, the more your opponent will push forward. If you forbear for a while, you will kill him, and take a step back!
At the post-match press conference.

A reporter from San Antonio asked:
"We all saw you lying on the ground in pain, and that resulted in the expulsion of Robert Horry. But after that, you were unscathed, were you blown up, were you flopping, were you acting?"

Nash broke out directly.

He stood up abruptly, rubbed his crotch for a while, took out the crotch protector, and slammed it in front of the reporter:
"Keep your Titanium Doug eyes wide open, that's why I'm still alive!"

As he spoke, he took out a headband, mask, shoulder pads, elbow pads, wrist pads, knee pads, ankle pads, and braces from his backpack, and threw them at the reporter one by one.

"If I didn't have these things, I would have been crippled a long time ago, and I would be a fucking ball!"

"Do you still have humanity, do you still have heart!"

The reporter from San Antonio trembled and couldn't speak a word.

In the NBA, Nash is considered thin.

But among ordinary people, Nash is a first-class muscular man. If he punches him, this reporter will probably cry for a long time...

"As a star, is it a crime not to be able to guard me? Do I have to wear a helmet and shoulder pads to play when I go to San Antonio next time?"

"Who will keep me safe, the referee, or these protective gear, or wait for me to fight an eye for an eye, an eye for an eye?"

"I hope the league can hear my voice. This is the NBA, not Sanda, free combat, or hooliganism. Please return basketball to a pure land!"

"Please be human!"

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(End of this chapter)