The game was over, and the entire US Airways Center had become a sea of celebration.
Hardaway leaped onto Chandler’s back, excitedly waving his arms at the stands and interacting with the fans.
In sharp contrast were the members of the Spurs, who looked as if they’d just lost their parents.
’Down 0-3... it’s really over!’
Popovich stood on the sidelines, his mind a complete blank.
Before the series started, he had figured the Phoenix Suns wouldn’t be an easy opponent. After all, they had spent big money this season to keep Chandler, and they’d also made adjustments, trading for Livingston to patch up their weakness on the perimeter.
’But the Spurs upgraded their roster, too!’
’Was that sixty-million-plus payroll for nothing?’
So, Popovich had initially thought that while it might be a tough victory, the Spurs would definitely be the ones to win in the end.
’Who would have thought the Spurs would just collapse like this? Getting steamrolled 3-0 without any warning, having the floor wiped with them yet again?’
At that moment, he couldn’t quite figure out where, exactly, the Spurs had gone wrong.
’So he developed a fadeaway jumper. So what? You think you’re channeling Michael Jordan now?’
’Even if you were Jordan incarnate, that’s just an improvement in your individual skill. It shouldn’t have such a massive impact on the outcome of the game, right?’
A nudge from Callesimo brought Popovich back to his senses. He turned his head to shake hands with Skiles.
"By the way, Scott, how come Chen didn’t come today?" Popovich asked suddenly after they shook hands.
It was a Suns home game, yet he hadn’t seen Chen Yu in the stands.
Skiles replied automatically, "He had something to take care of today, so he couldn’t make it."
Popovich just said, "Oh," and turned to leave.
The next morning, Popovich drove Duncan to Chen Yu’s clinic bright and early.
He had taken the initiative to bring Duncan to Chen Yu for treatment.
For the past two seasons, Chen Yu had basically stopped helping any teams with post-game physical maintenance.
Especially during the playoffs, he wouldn’t even help his own team, the Suns.
Popovich could understand that; it would be a bit of an unfair advantage.
But he had come today anyway.
His reason was perfectly legitimate. ’Duncan sprained his ankle before and you treated him. A few days have passed, so isn’t it reasonable to come for a follow-up?’
Then, during the check-up, as long as Duncan asked nicely, he could get Chen Yu to give him a quick massage to relieve some fatigue. It would be a simple favor.
’It didn’t even have to be that complicated. He could just say his leg or knee was hurting and ask for some treatment.’
The key was to have a reason to be there—a reason Chen Yu couldn’t refuse.
"Tim, can’t you even crack a smile?" Popovich complained in the car.
"We’re about to ask the man for a favor, and you can’t even put on a happy face."
Duncan said, "Greg, I get it. I’ll play the entire next game."
He knew he was Popovich’s last resort, and he understood what his coach wanted from him.
"That’s different."
Popovich shook his head. Anyone could play the whole game, but just surviving on the court for forty-eight minutes was completely different from playing the whole game full of life and energy.
"Besides, it’s not just about this one game. There are three more after this."
’If he plays the whole game without Chen Yu’s help to relieve fatigue, he’ll be completely spent for the one after that.’
Duncan gave a bitter smile.
’If we don’t win the next game, there won’t be three more games to worry about.’
The car soon arrived at the clinic.
"Why are there so many reporters!" Popovich immediately ducked his head.
’Sneaking off to Chen Yu’s clinic during a series break... even an idiot would know what we’re up to.’
Reporters had practically blockaded the clinic’s main entrance. Several news vans were parked nearby, and many of the journalists were broadcasting live.
"They don’t look like American reporters," Popovich muttered, sneaking a few glances.
He saw the BBC logo and felt slightly relieved.
’It’s probably something soccer-related.’
He didn’t follow soccer, so he had no idea what was going on. He had his driver get out to clear a path.
The two of them entered the clinic without a hitch.
Lexi was waiting for them at the entrance to the medical center. After greeting them, she explained that Chen Yu wasn’t available at the moment.
"Is it an important patient? Someone from the soccer world?" Popovich asked curiously.
Lexi nodded. "Wayne Rooney. He’s a very famous player from the United Kingdom. Have you heard of him?"
Popovich shook his head, indicating he had never heard the name before.
That’s right. Eriksson’s world had come crashing down once again.
The core forward of his National Team, Wayne Rooney, was injured.
On April 28th, local time in the United Kingdom, Manchester United played an away match against Chelsea.
The match was set to decide the Premier League champion early, so both sides played ferociously.
In the end, Chelsea shut out Manchester United 3-0, successfully defending their Premier League title ahead of schedule.
But no one cared about Chelsea’s title anymore. The nerves of every fan in the United Kingdom were on edge once again because, in the 78th minute of the match, Rooney was brought down by a tackle from Portuguese international Ferreira.
Ferreira hadn’t done it on purpose. He was going for the ball and had made contact with it first, but in the process of his slide, he caught Rooney’s right foot.
Rooney immediately clutched his right foot, unable to get back up, and was stretchered off the field.
He took the team bus back to Manchester overnight, and just yesterday, the test results came back.
A metatarsal fracture!
Eriksson’s words had become a self-fulfilling prophecy; England was truly under the metatarsal curse.
The critical issue was that it was already April 30th, and England’s first group stage match was scheduled for June 10th.
That left only a short 40 days.
Factoring in his return, regaining his form, and training with the team, Rooney would be lucky to even make it back for the knockout stage.
And that was assuming England could even advance from the group stage.
So, as soon as the injury was confirmed, Eriksson had only one thought: get to the United States immediately.
He had to find Chen Yu and replicate Beckham’s miracle from ’02!
Inside the examination room, Eriksson, Rooney, Rooney’s agent, and a player representative from Manchester United were all staring nervously at Chen Yu.
"Wait!"
Just as Chen Yu finished looking at the X-rays and was about to speak, Eriksson suddenly shouted, stopping him.
"Chen, my heart can’t take this!" he exclaimed, clutching his chest. "How about you just give me a signal with your eyes, or a smile? For example, blink twice if you can tell me Wayne will be okay?"
Chen Yu looked at Eriksson, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
"Sven, the last time I was in the United Kingdom, you said you had a prized bottle of red wine you wanted to share with me. I was too busy to take you up on it then. Well, this time, you’re really going to have to thank me properly. I suppose you could say I’ve saved you once again."
Eriksson’s eyes widened.
Rooney, sitting in his wheelchair, also widened his eyes and asked impatiently, "Chen, can I make it back for the group stage?"
He wasn’t afraid of being injured.
Fractures were all too common for professional athletes.
But for the injury to happen at this particular time was just brutal.
Chen Yu nodded.
Back in ’02, Beckham was injured on April 11th.
Shortly after, on April 24th, Neville was injured.
Although their injuries were only thirteen days apart, Beckham made it to the World Cup, while Neville did not.
This was because the location of their injuries was different. Beckham had injured his second metatarsal, while Neville had a fracture at the base of his fifth metatarsal, which required a longer healing time.
So, while timing was one factor, the specific location of the injury was also crucial.
Rooney, however, was lucky. He had injured the fourth metatarsal of his right foot, and the injury wasn’t particularly severe.

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