He knows very well that this transaction is likely to happen because Rick Sund has no capital to refuse.
With those few misfits he has, Camby is the best he can get.
But, that kid was obviously so outstanding before, why has he fallen to this state now?
If he can be effective, things should be better.
At this mont, Dikembe Mutombo stepped into the training ground, greeting everyone with his Cybertron accent: "Good morning, guys, it’s two days until we hear Tim Duncan’s cold jokes!!"
He laughed heartily, revealing a black hole among his previously neat teeth.
That was knocked out by Little O’Neal yesterday.
"Morning Dikembe, did you feel it on the way here? The wind is a bit strong today." Roger teased Mutombo who had a lisp.
"Alright, I’ll get my tooth fixed after training today. I heard on the radio this morning that Reggie Miller got five stitches? Well, this is nothing then."
Everyone chatted casually, Marcus Camby sat on the bench hesitating for a long ti, and finally clenched his fists and walked towards Mutombo: "Dikembe."
Mutombo looked up and was a bit surprised to see Camby, not expecting him to talk to him proactively.
"I thought you didn’t know anymore."
"Alright, now isn’t the ti to talk about this. For old tis’ sake, help out."
"Old tis, huh?" Mutombo laughed contemptuously.
Marcus Camby couldn’t stand Mutombo’s sarcastic tone and attitude, but he had to ask for help.
"Dikembe, you have a good relationship with Roger, tell him to give 15 minutes of play ti each ga. If I don’t play, no team will want to trade . I don’t want to see him, and he’s annoyed by too. Leaving early will be good for everyone."
Unfortunately, Roger heard Marcus Camby and Mutombo’s conversation. His face instantly turned ominous from having been chatting with others, and he shouted at Camby.
"What can you do with 15 minutes? Continue padding your stats, then wait for so blind team to take you away? Screw that, no one in my team can go on the field with such a disrespectful attitude towards victory! Either you give your all for those 15 minutes, or sit on the bench. I don’t mind if you can’t get traded, I’m not bothered at all because I don’t care about you."
Roger would rather see Marcus Camby not play for a minute than send him to pad his stats.
Not to ntion 15 minutes, even soone padding stats for 10 minutes on the court is a disdain for others’ efforts, it’s a desecration of victory.
Thus, under no circumstances would Roger let Marcus Camby play, unless he seriously intended to play well.
Marcus Camby, after listening to Roger, started to lose his emotional stability again. He’s always had a fiery temper, frequently clashing with opponents during the Knicks period.
So the previously calm Camby beca irritable upon hearing Roger’s firm response: "You think this feels good? Arbitrarily controlling soone’s destiny has made you feel accomplished? Do you seriously think you’re a god?"
As Camby raised his voice, the atmosphere in the training ground instantly beca tense.
Mutombo quickly stopped Camby: "Alright, idiot, you’ve ssed up again!"
"Is it wrong not to want a stat-padder on the court?" Roger didn’t intend to calm things down, walking up to Camby and staring him straight in the eyes.
"Stat-padder? You have no idea what others have been through, and you accuse with a superior attitude. I gave everything for the Knicks, yet my na wasn’t even on the Defensive Player of the Year ballot! I gave everything for the Knicks, and they didn’t hesitate to choose Yao Ming, throwing into this hellhole! I’m fed up, why do I have to be the one to sacrifice?"
The emotional Camby shouted while grabbing Roger’s collar.
Everyone instantly crowded around, trying to separate the two.
Stephen Jackson was already grabbing a broom, ready to beat up Camby.
In the Bay Area, Stephen Jackson is another Andrae Patterson for Roger.
Stoudemire imdiately held Stephen Jackson around the waist, knowing his temper; once he starts, Camby will definitely get hurt.
Others went to separate Roger and Camby, the concerned parties.
But the more they pulled, the more Marcus Camby held onto Roger: "Tell , why do I have to make those sacrifices!?"
Roger looked at him coldly, like looking at an unreasonable fool: "It’s none of my business, no one is asking you to sacrifice. But if you don’t let go, Marcus, I promise, you’ll be the next Scottie Pippen!"
"That’s enough Marcus!" Mutombo shouted, grabbing Camby’s jersey and forcefully pulling to separate the duo.
This ti, the force of the pull was so great that Camby fell to the ground.
Camby still wanted to get up, but Mutombo directly pressed on his shoulder, as the angry elder walked up to Camby, shouting at him.
"I’m extrely disappointed in you! What’s wrong with you!? Why do you play ball!? Is it for the Defensive Player of the Year trophy? Is it for stats?"
"Huh, you’ve won exactly four Defensive Player of the Year awards, got a max contract, you certainly can preach to with impunity." Camby mocked him.
"Screw you Marcus, I don’t play ball just for four lousy trophies!
Why do I play ball? For slam dunks, for jump shots, for amazing passes. To win one-on-ones on the court, to be a hero on the court, to be the key player. To create the legendary Black Eight miracle, and for the potential during my 76ers period. To fight back against opponents, to give back to my hotown. To pierce barriers, to chase dreams, to be soone who changes the ga, changes destiny!
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