The Best Point Guard

Randolph was ecstatic. He spread his arms, feeling like he could do anything tonight. He was like an eagle soaring through the sky, able to swoop down and snatch any chick it desired.

"Kevin Garnett, that mega-contract of yours should be mine! You’re the real overrated cancer. The Minnesota Timberwolves got totally screwed over by you. They spent all that money and got nothing to show for it, all while making you a superstar. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

Zach Randolph taunted Garnett relentlessly.

He was a petty man. If someone pissed him off with a single word, he’d hold a grudge for a lifetime.

Garnett was so furious he was grinding his teeth. He immediately demanded the ball to take on Randolph one-on-one.

But Garnett wasn’t a great isolation scorer. His career-high in a single playoff game was only 35 points. What did that prove? It proved he wasn’t a high-volume scorer. The role he was best suited for was being a team’s number two.

CLANK!

His turnaround jumper clanked off the iron.

And the rebound was grabbed by Su Xi.

Su Xi grabbed it and raced down the court, driving into the paint before kicking the ball back out. Randolph caught it in the corner and shot again... SWISH!

The three-pointer was good.

There was nothing Garnett could do to stop him.

He’d never expected a big bruiser like Randolph, who was supposed to be banging in the paint, to be running out to the three-point line and shooting.

And sinking them with such accuracy, no less.

’How the hell am I supposed to guard this?’

Garnett wasn’t the only one mulling over this question. Popovich, Shaquille O’Neal, and others were all thinking the same thing.

They were all serious title contenders, and they were all wondering how they would handle the Knicks. It was a question they had to consider seriously. The Knicks were already number one in the regular season. While basketball pundits were still nitpicking their flaws, with the addition of Zach Randolph, the Knicks’ roster was genuinely strong. Moreover, Randolph had now developed a new offensive weapon.

’So, how would you defend them?’

The elites were thinking about the future.

Tracy McGrady, on the other hand, was cursing the present reality. ’Damn it, why is everyone trying to steal my All-Star MVP? Garnett, are you trying to mutiny?’

Tracy McGrady started hogging the ball, stubbornly forcing one-on-one plays.

Garnett was also pissed off; he wanted to take on Randolph one-on-one as well.

The West was down by ten or twenty points, yet they were already starting to fall apart with infighting.

That just meant the East could continue to cruise to an easy victory.

Isaiah Thomas stood on the sideline, striking poses. His biggest hope for the game was to get a few classic photos of himself.

After all, this was the first time in his career he had coached an All-Star team.

In the past, while he had led his teams to decent records, he had never finished first in the conference by the mid-season break.

As time ticked by, the outcome of the game became crystal clear.

Only Tracy McGrady refused to give up. He was still dreaming of a miracle. ’What if I score 60 points in 60 seconds?’

Garnett was fuming, too. He couldn’t stand seeing Randolph enjoying his moment of glory.

Popovich, however, had given up long ago. He stopped calling plays and instead focused his full attention on Randolph’s performance.

Randolph’s point total soon surpassed 60.

The MVP award was a lock.

With two minutes left in the game, the Western Conference Team, trailing by 28, called a timeout. Popovich began to make substitutions.

Meanwhile, an interesting scene was unfolding on the Eastern Conference bench.

Isaiah Thomas turned to LeBron and the others. "Well, it looks like garbage time is here. Do you guys still want to play?"

Thomas’s words were tantamount to rubbing salt in the wounds of James and the All-Stars from the Pistons and the Heat.

Instantly, they all glared at him.

’I’m the damn Chosen One, and you dare to humiliate me like this?’

’That’s right.’

Thomas met their stares unflinchingly. His expression made his message clear: ’That’s right, I’m just that kind of classless asshole. If you’ve got a problem, do something about it right here and now.’

James conveyed their protest with a resolute glare; they did not want to go back in.

Isaiah Thomas didn’t get angry. "Fine. I gave you your chance. Refusing to play is on you."

"Zach, there’s a little over a minute left. You’re only seven points away from 70. Go pad your stats."

Thomas said with a grin, "Seventy points in an All-Star Game, you’d be the first in history. It’ll go down in the record books; no one will be able to touch that. It’s a huge slap in the face to everyone who ever laughed at you."

Randolph eagerly agreed.

The exchange between the two infuriated James and the others. They couldn’t believe Isaiah Thomas could talk about padding stats so calmly and naturally.

’How can a person be so utterly shameless?’

Still, if Randolph really did manage to score 70 points, he would absolutely go down in history. From now on, any mention of the All-Star Game would have to include him.

This was a stark contrast to Randolph’s dismal reputation from just a month ago, when he was treated like a rat that everyone wanted to beat.

BEEP!

The whistle blew, and the game resumed.

As expected, the West had lost all will to fight. Even the defiant Tracy McGrady was sitting on the bench.

Randolph had no qualms whatsoever. He was already notorious, so he didn’t care about a "don’t burn your bridges" mentality. Both he and Isaiah Thomas shared the same "I don’t give a damn" attitude.

Randolph succeeded. With Su Xi’s help, he heaved up five three-pointers in the final moments, making two of them, and also scored a layup.

He reached the 71-point mark.

When the final buzzer sounded, Randolph, in a frenzy of excitement, ripped off his jersey and sprinted around the court, screaming his lungs out.

He even climbed onto the scorer’s table. His nearly three-hundred-pound frame made the entire platform wobble as he shouted, "Fat guys can be great! Fat guys can be great! I’m the MVP! I’m the MVP!"

His unbridled energy was like that of a death metal frontman.

Houston had become his home court.

Even the TV commentators had to admit that Zach Randolph had truly found himself with the Knicks. He had become the biggest surprise of the season.