All morning, Gan Guoyang stayed ho with his wife and child.
Wang Fuxi was two months pregnant, and her pregnancy symptoms were becoming increasingly severe.
During the week in Chicago, Wang Fuxi only managed to watch the third and fourth gas. By the fifth ga, her body couldn’t take it anymore.
After returning to Portland, she vomited nonstop and lay in bed, drifting in and out of sleep. Her mother-in-law took care of everything at ho.
His son, Gan Wenshan, could already talk, but he didn’t seem to have any interest in basketball. Instead, he had a special fondness for soccer.
Soon after learning to walk, he was already kicking the ball around the house, endlessly having fun.
Gan Guoyang didn’t force him to love basketball. If he could contribute to Chinese soccer in the future, it would be considered an act of kindness and virtue, bringing honor to the family.
Gan Guoyang ate a lot for lunch; his appetite had always been impressive. His boundless energy didn’t co from nowhere.
Being able to eat and burn energy showed that his body was a highly efficient machine for transforming, storing, and releasing energy.
After lunch, he took a short nap. Around one o’clock, he headed out, and on the way, Gan Guoyang suddenly told Quentin to speed up, driving to the maximum allowable speed.
"Sonny, you don’t like driving fast."
"I know. Right now, I want you to speed up. Go as fast as you can."
As he said this, Gan Guoyang grabbed the car’s door handle, signaling that he was ready.
Quentin stepped on the gas, and the speed surged. The powerful acceleration pressed Gan Guoyang back against the seat, making his breath quicken and his heart race as he held tightly onto the handle.
Quentin kept flooring the gas pedal while checking the rearview mirror, asking, "Sonny, is this speed okay?"
Gan Guoyang clenched his lips and, after a long pause, managed to squeeze out, "No problem."
So, Quentin continued accelerating, racing wildly down Portland’s elevated highways.
Quentin had been with Gan Guoyang for years and valued his job deeply.
Gan Guoyang treated him like family. As a driver and bodyguard, Quentin’s driving skills and marksmanship were top-notch.
Quentin was also very familiar with Portland’s traffic patterns and police shift schedules. He pushed the car to its fastest speed while managing to not get caught by the cops, heading straight toward the morial Coliseum.
The road wasn’t empty, but Quentin’s exceptional driving allowed him to weave through the traffic. His constant braking and accelerating left Gan Guoyang dizzy in the back seat.
Finally, after exiting the highway and entering the city, the car slowed down. At that mont, Quentin heard a "bang" from the back seat — Gan Guoyang had actually torn off the door handle.
"Sonny, are you okay?"
"You should ask if the car can handle . I’m fine, just... a little dizzy. Slow down."
"Why torture yourself like this, boss?"
Quentin shook his head. He knew Gan Guoyang feared nothing — except this kind of acceleration.
Roller coasters and fast cars were nightmares to Gan Guoyang, but today he had chosen to confront it head-on.
When they arrived at the morial Coliseum and got out of the car, Gan Guoyang planted his feet onto solid ground and let out a big sigh of relief.
"Quentin, I just wanted to challenge my fear to clear my mind a bit. But let tell you, next ti I make this kind of request, you must refuse firmly, no matter how much I command you, OK?"
Quentin shrugged and muttered, "I knew it..."
Gan Guoyang was the first player to arrive at the morial Coliseum. Outside the player’s tunnel, a large number of reporters were already lying in wait.
They sward him, snapping pictures nonstop. The flashing lights and microphones surrounded this soon-to-be-crowned superstar as he moved forward.
Ah Gan’s fifth championship wasn’t guaranteed, but it was already as good as in the bag. The Finals montum was entirely on the Trail Blazers’ side.
The Bulls showed faint traces of regal confidence, but against the more experienced Portland Trail Blazers, they still seed too raw.
Once inside the locker room, with the door closed, Gan Guoyang finally had a mont of private space. He changed into his workout clothes, relaxed, watched so ga footage, and prepared for tonight’s showdown.
"I thought coming early would give so peace and quiet, but I was wrong. It’s not 1986 anymore." Gan Guoyang said to Rick Adelman, who had also arrived early.
Today’s NBA is invaded by the dia everywhere.
In the past, even for major gas, if Gan Guoyang arrived early, the arena would be empty and quiet.
Back then, he could run laps on the court, practice his shooting, and soak in the ga’s atmosphere ahead of ti.
During those quiet monts, he would ntally visualize the ga, preparing psychologically and tactically.
Now, it’s no longer possible. People are everywhere — caras everywhere, flashing lights everywhere.
Aside from the small locker room or the small space inside the car, there was no private sanctuary outside of ho anymore. Everything was exposed to public scrutiny.
Adelman said, "That’s different now, but what’s the sa is — we’re taking the championship."
With that, the two n laughed. A wave of confidence filled the Trail Blazers’ locker room.
Adelman understood the source of that confidence — it ca from Ah Gan.
Since Gan Guoyang joined the Trail Blazers, he brought with him a sense of vibrancy and confidence.
Adelman still rembered Ga 5 of the 1986 Finals, the most critical ga of the series.
In the face of adversity, Gan Guoyang put on a phenonal individual performance to secure the victory and set the tone for the series.
From then on, Ah Gan never let the Portland people down.
They would lose gas — no one wins all the ti — but he never disappointed.
Failure and disappointnt are two different things.
Jordan likewise didn’t disappoint — in all five gas, win or lose, Jordan perford exceptionally well.
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