Just as Chen Yu picked up Ronaldo and Batty to head for their hotel, another trio arrived in Phoenix by plane.
The leader, a man in his fifties, briskly carried his own large suitcase. His signature bald head identified him as the NBA’s renowned "golden whistle," Joseph Joey Crawford.
The other two accompanying him included a tall man named Michael Henderson, who stood over six-foot-three.
This was his second year as an official NBA referee, and his face was perpetually stern.
The last man was Tom Washington, a black man with a serious-looking pencil mustache. He had been in the league for 11 years and was highly experienced.
A car was waiting to pick them up, and the trio quickly arrived at a hotel near the US Airways Center.
The three first took a moment to unpack their personal luggage.
They would be officiating two games in Phoenix and staying for at least three days.
Once settled, the three gathered in Crawford’s room to watch game footage on a laptop.
It was footage from the Western and Eastern Conference Finals.
As referees, their job wasn’t as simple as just showing up to the arena and calling a game. Like the teams, they had to do a great deal of prep work before officiating each game.
For example, they had to know in advance if there was any bad blood between players on the opposing teams.
This was extremely important. Players with a history of conflict were prone to getting emotional on the court and making overly aggressive moves. If not controlled—for example, by issuing a warning right at the start—it could easily lead to major trouble.
Especially in the Finals, a game broadcast and watched worldwide, they would all inevitably be punished if a fight broke out.
This part was actually easy to handle. Veterans like Crawford and Washington, having been in the league for so many years, knew all about the petty squabbles between players.
Next, they had to review recent game footage of both teams to see which players were easily agitated or might have been instructed by their head coach to intentionally target opposing players.
They had to flag these players in advance and pay close attention to them during the game.
Finally, the three of them needed to discuss the officiating standards for this game, where to focus their attention, and so on.
It was not a simple job. A rookie like Michael Henderson barely dared to offer an opinion, spending the entire time listening and taking notes.
"Shouldn’t be a problem," Crawford concluded in the end.
The Suns and the Magic were old rivals from last year.
And O’Neal, Hardaway, and even head coach Skiles were all former Magic players.
Also, thanks to Chen Yu, Hill, Tracy McGrady, and Hardaway all had good relationships with each other.
Hardaway was even Tracy McGrady’s idol.
And Hill was famously one of the nicest guys in the league.
As long as the team leaders kept their cool, it was hard for a game to get out of hand.
After the meeting, Crawford dragged Washington to the hotel gym for a workout.
Keeping up with the players running back and forth for an entire game was physically demanding work.
It wasn’t until after four in the afternoon that they gathered their gear and left for the arena.
The game was at 8:30 PM. Barring any special circumstances, they would typically arrive at the arena three hours early.
It was already 5:00 PM when they arrived at the US Airways Center.
The trio went backstage, changed into their referee uniforms, and then had a brief video conference with their superior, Stu Jackson, the league’s head of officiating, to discuss and confirm the details of their planned officiating standards.
"Joey."
At the end of the video conference, Stu Jackson suddenly stopped Crawford and told him to give him a call.
Crawford was a bit puzzled, but he took out his phone and called Jackson.
The call connected.
Stu Jackson’s tone was complicated. "Joey, there’s a situation. I need you to find Tyrone in a bit and tell him that for this game, we don’t want Chen on the bench. And especially during halftime, he’s not allowed in the team’s locker room."
Crawford was stunned.
The Tyrone Stu Jackson mentioned was the Suns’ team representative.
They typically represented the team, communicated with the official NBA representatives, and supervised the scorer’s table.
"Stu, what do you mean?" Crawford didn’t quite understand.
Chen Yu was the Suns’ team doctor. Forbidding him from entering the locker room was completely unheard of.
Stu Jackson said, "It’s exactly what I said. In other words, during this game, we don’t want Chen providing any medical assistance to the team. Of course, if a player is accidentally injured, that’s a different matter."
Crawford still didn’t understand his explanation.
’A team doctor who can’t provide medical services? Then what’s the point of having a team doctor?’
In the NBA’s decades-long history, there had never been such a precedent.
Stu Jackson could also tell Crawford was confused. He paused for a moment before saying, "This is from headquarters, Joey. This is the Finals. We want it to be played fairly and squarely. And you should be aware that Chen has a special ability... he can help players rapidly recover their stamina during halftime."
Crawford frowned.
He actually did know about this.
It had started last year.
Those two old-timers, Ewing and Olajuwon, would sometimes play nearly the entire first half. He’d be on the sidelines thinking it was incredible, as he could clearly see they were exhausted and gasping for breath.
But after halftime, they would come back full of energy and then play the rest of the game.
In fact, the same thing had happened during this year’s playoffs.
Crawford remembered a media report claiming that Chen Yu used physical therapy and massage techniques during halftime to help these veterans quickly recover their stamina.
It was incredible, and he had no idea how Chen Yu did it.
But for the world’s top doctor, having such an ability didn’t seem that strange.
Stu Jackson continued, "We believe this is a method that undermines the fairness of the game. So, we’re going to try something in this game. We’re requiring that Chen not provide this kind of help to the team. You’ll need to communicate this to the Suns in a bit. It would be best if you could speak with Chen face-to-face to ensure he doesn’t do it."
Crawford cursed silently.
’Talk to Chen Yu face-to-face? Not to mention whether he’d even give me the time of day... why don’t you guys go yourselves?’
’It’s something that could be handled with a phone call, but they’re insisting I do it in person. They’re clearly using me as a shield.’
"Stu, this is completely unreasonable. How am I supposed to talk to Chen about this?" Crawford tactfully refused.
He had no desire to be the bad guy, especially since Chen Yu had helped him with the wear-and-tear issues in his own knees, caused by years of running up and down the court while officiating.
It was safe to say that no one in the league wanted to get on the bad side of Chen Yu, a top orthopedic and sports medicine doctor.
Because no one could guarantee they wouldn’t need Chen Yu’s help in the future.
Stu Jackson heard the resentment in Crawford’s voice and said, "Don’t worry. Even if Chen gets angry, he won’t blame you. He’ll blame me at worst. I’ll explain it to him after the game."
’Like hell he will,’ Crawford thought. He asked one last time if he could get out of it.
After receiving a negative answer, Crawford hung up the phone, his expression a mixture of conflict and frustration.
Seeing Washington getting ready to go to the court to warm up, he quickly followed, planning for the two of them to go together later.
It was better for two people to take the blame than one.
When they reached the court, some of the Suns players were already warming up.
Crawford glanced around but didn’t see Chen Yu on the sidelines.
He gritted his teeth, grabbed Washington, and found Nelson on the sidelines.
Chen Yu was running a little late today. He and Ronaldo didn’t leave the hotel until after six o’clock. By the time they arrived at the arena, Beckham, J Kidd, and the others were already there.
"Where’s Kobe?" Chen Yu saw Yao Ming but couldn’t find Kobe.
Yao Ming said a bit awkwardly, "He said he had an upset stomach and wanted to rest at the hotel."
Chen Yu shook his head to himself.
’Upset stomach, my ass. He just doesn’t want to see the Suns win.’
’That damn pride of his.’
After asking a staff member to take Ronaldo and his group to the courtside seats, Chen Yu headed to the locker room with J Kidd.
Nelson was standing at the entrance to the locker room. As soon as he saw Chen Yu, he immediately walked over.
After a quick hug with J Kidd, telling him to go into the locker room first, Nelson pulled Chen Yu aside. His expression was grave as he said, "Chen, Joey just spoke with me. He said the league is forbidding you from entering the locker room during the game."
"Huh?"
Chen Yu was stunned for a moment.
’Who? Crawford? He’s a head referee. He can keep me off the court, but what gives him the right to ban me from the locker room?’
"What’s that supposed to mean?" Chen Yu asked in a low voice.
Nelson repeated what he had been told, concluding, "That’s exactly what he said. I asked for the specific reason, but he wouldn’t say. He just said he was following league instructions and was only the messenger, and that he didn’t know the reason either."
Chen Yu cursed under his breath. ’Like hell he doesn’t know.’
"I’m going to find him."
Chen Yu started to head backstage.
But he stopped after just a few steps.
"I’ll call David."
Chen Yu immediately pulled out his phone and called Stern.
’Crawford is just a referee. It’s pointless to ask him.’
"He’s not answering my call?" Chen Yu scoffed.
He tried again, but there was still no answer.
’What time is it even? He’s definitely not asleep yet.’
Chen Yu then called all the vice presidents in one go—Granic, Silva, and a few others.
Not a single one of them picked up.
’They’re doing this on purpose!’
Nelson’s face was tense, and he didn’t dare say much.
Chen Yu thought for a moment, then called Mark Tatum.
He was Chen Yu’s inside man at the New York Headquarters, so to speak.
’There must be some gossip in the office.’
This time, the call went through.
After a while, Chen Yu hung up.
"What’s the situation?" Nelson finally asked nervously.
Chen Yu snorted. "What do you think?"
Banning him from the bench during the game, and especially from the locker room during halftime—it was too targeted. Chen Yu didn’t believe for a second that Nelson couldn’t guess the reason.
Nelson sighed. "Chen, should we try to explain it to the league?"
He knew, of course, that Chen Yu’s physical therapy and massages were incredible, that he even had some kind of unbelievable ability, but he didn’t think it was a problem.
’Without a unique skill like that, how could he become the world’s top doctor? How could so many teams be clamoring for him?’
Most importantly, it benefited the Suns, so why would he say anything?
But he never expected the league to target Chen Yu like this in the first game of the Finals.
"Would explaining do any good?"
Chen Yu’s face was dark. Tatum had indeed heard some office rumors. It was obvious that Stern was the one who had given the order.
’Now he’s got a guilty conscience, so he’s not answering my calls.’
Nelson sighed again and asked Chen Yu what he was going to do, and whether he would still go to the sidelines.
Chen Yu frowned. He crossed his arms and thought for a moment, then said, "I’m going. Why wouldn’t I?"
Chen Yu wanted to see if Crawford would actually dare to eject him from the game, and what the league could really do to him.

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