The Whip of the God of Basketball - Chapter 347

Marne-Pete has been busy with his small bar business recently. Since ending the amateur boxing business and switching to live sports, the popularity of this small bar has slowly grown again, because the Celtics’ performance in the finals is so outstanding.

On the night of the third game in Los Angeles, it was more than seven o’clock in the evening Western time, and it was already more than ten o’clock in the evening in Boston, but this did not stop the enthusiasm of Boston fans. A large number of Celtics fans in the Southern District flooded into Pete’s bar to watch the game together on the bar’s TV.

The third game was the most thrilling and intense game played by the Celtics in the playoffs. When the team fell behind in the first half, beer sales in the bar surged because fans needed alcohol to calm their nervousness. mood. By the time the Celtics were catching up in the second half, the noise in the bar almost overturned the top.

And when Karl Malone ended up due to injury and Arenas made a crucial three-pointer, Pete could even feel through his small bar that the whole of Boston was boiling. This is a completely different feeling from last year’s finals, and the championship is close at hand.

Therefore, on the night when the fourth final is about to begin, Pete must prepare for the spectacle rally tonight, prepare a lot of alcohol and drinks, and set up his small bar, not only to celebrate the Celtics championship, but also to do a good job. Make a fortune.

“Hang the flag higher, higher… Put the flags of FO and FO aside, yes, don’t block the sight of the guests.” It was past four in the afternoon, and Pete was hanging flags in the bar with the clerk. There are imitation Celtic championship flags, and there are also the “Fo, Fo, Fo, Fo” flags painted by Pete himself. In short, he wants to make this place full of championship atmosphere.

At more than seven in the evening, more than two hours before the start of the game, it was completely dark. One after another, young fans began to drink and chat in the bar, while waiting for the game to start together. Pete feels quite satisfied. The money earned in the finals these days is higher than the income in the previous two months.

So Pete can no longer sit in a daze on the highchair as before. He must greet the guests with the bartender and mix drinks behind the bar.

At this time, a middle-aged man with a big belly sat in front of Pete, took off his hat, exposing a bald head and said: “A cup of agave, preferably Mexican.”

The young people who come to the bar will either drink beer directly or order a cocktail for excitement. Only such a middle-aged person will order the tequila directly, and from his clothes and temperament, Pete can tell that this is a rental Car driver.

“How is the business these days? There will be more customers on rainy days. Drinking can make it difficult to go to work.” Pete asked. The two are about the same age and can talk. At the same time, he handed him a glass of Agave made in Mexico.

“Do you know what I do? This is my first time here… this ghost place in the Southern District.” The middle-aged man said as he drank the wine he had passed over, his tired face immediately eased. , Exudes a unique brilliance.

“I see a lot of people, and I can always tell his profession, especially in places like bars. I have only looked at one person completely in my life, and the others are okay.” Peter finished speaking to the middle-aged man. Here comes a cup.

This time, the middle-aged man didn’t drink it all at once, but put the wine glass to his mouth and slowly tasted it, savoring the unique taste of tequila.

“I came here when I heard that it was possible to watch NBA games. I would rather give up my business in the second half of the night. I remember that many bars in Boston used to watch NBA live broadcasts at night. At that time, it was Most’s commentary. Turn off the sound of the TV.” The middle-aged man mentioned the history of basketball in Boston. At that time, Johnny Most was a basketball commentator for Boston Radio. Boston fans have been used to his voice since the 1960s. So even if there was a live TV broadcast and the TV station had a special commentary, Bo Bostonians still used to turn off the TV sound, turn on the radio, and watch the TV broadcast while listening to Most’s voice.

Speaking of this ancient memory, Pete also smiled. It seems that both of them are old fans of the Boston Golden Age. When such old fans meet, there are always endless topics and endless stories to tell. Before the bar was full, Pete chatted with him.

“Seriously Marco, I didn’t expect to see the Celtics look like this now. I will be completely desperate after going through the 90s.” Pete said. The middle-aged man was named Benjamin Marco. An ordinary taxi driver in Boston.

“Me too. For a long time, I could only brag with passengers in the car and talk about the glory of the Celtics in the past. Every year I buy tickets for important Celtics games. Do you know me? I’ve been saving money, hoping to go to the Garden Arena to watch the finals one day. But in 2000, I gave up this hope. I took the money to buy a car I like…Haha, so now I can only go to The bar is watching the game!” Marco laughed self-deprecatingly. Tickets for the Celtics finals are already hard to find, and according to the current situation, the finals will not return to Boston.

Pete smiled and leaned over to Marco and whispered: “You know, my bar used to be an amateur boxing place. Over there, where the seats are now, is a boxing ring. I make money by holding boxing matches and gambling… …Later we had a boxer here who offended the underworld in the Southern District. Frank, did you know? That guy escaped from his birth and sent himself to prison to escape. Guess what?”

Faced with Pete’s sale, Marco hurriedly asked: “What? Does this have anything to do with the present? Is he dead?”

Pete smiled mysteriously and said: “Of course he was not dead. If he died, there would be no Celtics now. He is now the head coach of the Celtics, Fox Leon.”

Hearing this, Marco looked shocked, while Pete showed a satisfied smile. He has always been quite proud of this little secret. He enjoys the surprise when others know this secret, as if telling others that he knew the assassination of Kennedy. Like the murderer.

But soon Marco recovered his calm. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tequila. He also approached Pete and said, “Actually, I also have a little secret. I once sent a passenger to Kyle three years ago. The headquarters building of the special people. At the time, he said he was a Celtic staff member. I was very impressed with this passenger. He had black hair and looked a little gloomy but very energetic. Because he was a Celtic Staff, so I waived his fare… Then I saw him on TV and the news and recognized him at a glance.”

Listening to Marco’s narration, Pete didn’t look like a lie, and he also knew who Marco was talking about.

“It looks like we are very fate, because of the Celtics, because of Fox-Leon…Come, toast, and hope that our dreams come true tonight~www.mtlnovel.com~I hope the glory will return to Boston.” Pete held up. The glass in his hand, and Marco drank it.

At ten o’clock in Eastern Time, the TV station focused the camera on the Staples Center Arena, thousands of miles away, and the game was about to begin. In the fourth game of the 2004 finals, the O’Brien Cup was placed on the side of the court by the staff.

Countless fans are watching this game, especially in Boston, which is destined to be a sleepless night. The North Shore Garden Arena was full without a game. The big screen broadcasted the live footage of the game. Tens of thousands of fans were concerned about the fate of the Celtics through the live broadcast.

The Boston Police Department all worked overtime tonight, no one rested, and guarded the streets of Boston. Once the game is over, the Celtics win the championship, and the parade and carnival will be inevitable.

Reed Auerbach stayed in his Boston apartment. In his small study, he turned on the radio, lit a cigar, lay on a comfortable leather chair, and watched the entire game. The doctor told Auerbach not to stay up late, but tonight, Auerbach knew he was destined to sleepless.

“That kid, is this finally going to be done? Hey… I think it’s still like dreaming…” (To be continued.)