"But this is the cruelty of competitive sports. The winner is king, and the loser is reduced to a background. No one can change it."

When the reporters heard the hint of loneliness and sadness of the hero's late life in Griffin's words, they were also a little silent.

He was also the darling of the Los Angeles media and a hero in the spotlight.

Enjoying the flowers and applause.

But now, apart from occasionally showing a hint of majesty and barely reminding the world of the White Monster of the past, he mostly serves as a foil to the Big Three.

After the reporters were silent for a moment, one reporter asked again:

"Then do you want to say a few words to the king?"

Griffin pondered for a moment and shook his head for the third time:

"I have no friendship with him. Today is the first time I met him. I have nothing to say to him. I am simply a bystander, admiring the rise, bloom, and brilliance of this new star... Damn,

How the hell do I look like a poet."

One sentence broke the sad atmosphere of the scene.

Many media people laughed out loud.

A moment later, a reporter asked Jordan:

"Judging from the results, you were ejected today, which affected the trend of the game and even directly affected the outcome of the game. If you had not been ejected, you would have been under the basket and grabbed the most important rebound in the game.

It could very well be you. Do you regret your impulse?"

Little Jordan pinched the corners of his eyes with his right hand and said with a wry smile:
Chapter completed!