Chapter Sixty-eight: The Young Lord's All-Out Brilliance

“Russell has finally returned to the court. Oklahoma needs their leader to step up now and deliver salvation!”
At the commentary table, Charles Barkley was the first to speak. “This is the most basic thing every MVP-level player should be able to do!”
“For once, I think Charles is absolutely right. Coach Billy Donovan is sending Russell in at this moment to do exactly that,” Shaquille O’Neal replied, his tone serious. “Honestly, I can’t wait to see how Russell performs in this situation.”
“So far this season, he’s never been down nearly twenty points at this stage of a game!”
Just as O’Neal said, although the Thunder had faced plenty of strong teams this season—like the Los Angeles Clippers led by Paul and Griffin, the Minnesota Timberwolves with their trio of young stars, and the Golden State Warriors now boasting Kevin Durant—the Thunder might lose or fall behind in these matchups, but it always happened after the fourth quarter. Now, in Orlando, this game was only at the start of the second quarter.
On the giant screen at Amway Arena, the score was a glaring 33 to 15. The crowd’s cheers rang out thunderously, and everyone knew the momentum was entirely in the hands of the home team, the Orlando Magic.
The goddess of victory seemed to have forsaken Russell Westbrook’s team!
But there was one man who refused to accept that.
The camera shifted from the commentary table back to the court. The Thunder inbounded the ball, and Russell Westbrook took it at the baseline. With a quick glance at the defense, he suddenly exploded with power, his whole body brimming with energy as he charged down the court!
Meanwhile, the Magic players were still lazily jogging back, and with Russell’s terrifying speed, their entire defensive line was scattered in an instant!
He soared through the paint, rising above everyone, slamming the ball through the hoop with ferocious force!
Landing with a triumphant sweep of his arm, he exuded an air of dominance that left the entire arena gasping in astonishment.
“A violent blitz! Russell Westbrook capitalized on the Magic’s lapse in transition defense, and this attack took him less than six seconds!”
Kenny Smith, himself once a point guard, knew how difficult it was for a point guard to drive coast to coast for a dunk. He couldn’t help but praise Russell’s full-court solo slam. “This is insane! Russell truly is a beast!”

“This is only the beginning, Kenny, just the beginning!” Charles Barkley, as if revived by Russell’s dunk, straightened up in his seat. “Russell will never stop his mad performance. From now on, this game will be unlike any other!”
Perhaps Westbrook’s attack had been so swift that it left the entire Magic team dazed—even Wu Rui felt bewildered.
“He’s just too damn fierce…” Regaining his composure, Wu Rui still found it unreal. “Bismack, does that guy have rocket boosters in his legs?”
“Definitely not, Michael,” Biyombo beside him swallowed hard. “Man, I can assure you, this is the Russell you were hoping to see—giving it his all.”
“There’s nothing more wholehearted than this.”
Just as Biyombo said, Westbrook’s return in the second quarter was nothing like the first. He no longer worried about his assists; he focused solely on attacking, eyes locked on the basket and nothing else!
Using a screen, he took one step past his defender, pulled up for a jump shot—two points!
He crossed over DJ Augustin, drove into the paint, didn’t shy away from the big men leaping out to contest him, battled through contact, and, nearly off balance, laid the ball in while drawing a blocking foul!
“Russell Westbrook scores two and draws the foul!” Charles Barkley nearly leapt from his seat at the commentary table. “It’s Russell’s show time!”
In just one minute, while Wu Rui was tightly guarded and the rest of the Magic cooled off, Westbrook single-handedly scored six points. If he made the free throw, it would be his seventh this quarter—he had singlehandedly put the Magic through a 7-0 run!
Amway Arena fell silent. The smiles on the home fans’ faces froze, many clutching their heads in disbelief at what was unfolding before their eyes.
“Michael, if this is the exciting part you mentioned, maybe you need to go take a cold shower to calm down,” Bismack Biyombo said, scalp tingling at Westbrook’s display, glancing from the opponent about to shoot free throws to Wu Rui at his side. “I’d rather not see this kind of excitement.”
“It’s not funny at all.”
Wu Rui could only force a bitter smile. He hadn’t expected Russell to come out guns blazing—was this really the same player who’d been sitting on the bench for so long?
Compared to the first quarter, his state was night and day!

In the first quarter, Russell was two for five, scoring only five points. Yet in just one minute of the second, he went three for three, notched six points, and with the free throw, he was set for seven this quarter.
As expected, Westbrook stepped to the line, took a deep breath, adjusted slightly, and nailed the free throw!
22 to 33—Russell single-handedly cut the deficit to eleven!
“Hey, kid, if you’re my fan, I hope I haven’t let you down,” Westbrook said as he passed Wu Rui, high on adrenaline. “Don’t worry, the best is yet to come!”
“Russell, honestly, when you’re not padding your stats, you’re a true scoring machine.”
Russell bantered, and Wu Rui replied honestly, but that was all he could say.
“Padding stats?” Russell smiled at Wu Rui’s words. “Kid, I am everything for this team. I have to do my best, or we won’t win.”
“You don’t understand that yet. If you get the chance, I hope you can carry a team yourself someday.” Russell seemed about to say more, but hesitated, leaving Wu Rui only a meaningful look before turning to defend.
His words left Wu Rui deep in thought. Did he really not understand yet?
If possible, he hoped he could carry a team alone someday, too.
“Michael, what did Russell say to you?”
As Wu Rui pondered, Biyombo patted his back after inbounding the ball. “It wasn’t trash talk, was it?”