Chapter 202: Winner in Life! Kobe's Praise!
After the buzzer-beater dropped, Chen Yan didn't even have time to celebrate.
It wasn't that he didn't want to show off—he simply couldn't. Before he could react, his teammates mobbed him, tackling him to the floor in a wave of cheers and laughter. The entire Western Conference All-Star bench stormed the court, jumping, yelling, and piling on top of him.
Across the floor, the Eastern Conference players wore mixed expressions of disbelief and frustration. It might have been an exhibition game, but losing to a buzzer-beater always stung. No one liked watching victory vanish in a blink.
On the broadcast, the NBA commentators were still in shock.
"Wow! What a finish!" one exclaimed. "From my angle, Paul was passing to Anthony—but Chen Yan cut in like lightning and intercepted it mid-pass!"
"Even if Melo had made that shot, they would've just forced overtime," the other replied. "But Chen's three sealed it on the spot! That's ice-cold!"
The crowd was still roaring when Commissioner David Stern made his way onto the court, smiling as he adjusted his tie. The game was over, but one more highlight remained—the MVP announcement.
Everyone already knew who it would be, but tradition demanded ceremony.
Stern lifted the microphone and began, "For the 2007–2008 NBA All-Star Game, the Most Valuable Player award goes to…"
He paused, letting the suspense hang for a second longer.
"Chen Yan!"
The arena erupted.
Chen Yan had finished with 33 points, 5 rebounds, and 4 assists—a dazzling performance that made him the clear choice.
As the crowd's cheers thundered, he lifted the silver MVP trophy high above his head, a grin spreading across his face.
It was his second major award, following his Rookie of the Year MVP. As the flashbulbs burst around him, Chen couldn't help but imagine the future—Regular Season MVP? Finals MVP? Time would tell.
The host stepped forward, handing him the microphone.
"Chen, you've just earned the MVP in your first All-Star appearance. How does it feel?"
Chen smiled modestly. "We played great tonight. Everyone worked together for the same goal, and we did it. I'm thankful to my teammates, the coaches, and especially the fans. Without them, this wouldn't have been possible."
The fans laughed knowingly. He might've been grateful, but everyone watching knew the truth—no one believed in that final shot except Chen himself.
"That's incredible," the commentator added from the booth. "Winning MVP among this kind of talent is no small feat. He's not only the youngest player to ever win All-Star MVP, but also the first international player in history to do it!"
Back home, fans exploded in pride.
As Chen walked toward the tunnel, he stopped by the courtside seats and kissed Taylor Swift in front of the cameras.
MVP trophy in one hand. Superstar girlfriend in the other.
The audience went crazy.
"This," one fan shouted, "is what it means to be a winner in life!"
Others laughed, turning off their TVs. "The game's over, man—no one wants to watch you feed us this much romance!"
After the celebration, Chen faced the post-game press conference, surrounded by flashing cameras and teasing smiles.
A reporter smirked. "Chen, before the game, you said you were just here to have fun. So how do you explain walking away with the MVP?"
Chen chuckled. "We have an old saying in in my home—'When you plant without intent, the willows grow.' I guess that sums it up pretty well tonight."
Laughter filled the room.
Another reporter leaned in. "What does hitting that buzzer-beater in the All-Star Game mean to you personally?"
Chen shrugged. "It means… I hit a buzzer-beater."
The entire press room burst out laughing.
A third reporter raised his hand. "That last possession—why steal the ball from your own teammate? What was going through your head?"
Chen's grin widened. "Melo was at the free-throw line. If he hit it, we'd go to overtime. If he missed, we'd lose. Neither sounded good to me."
It was pure Chen logic—he didn't want to lose, and he definitely didn't want overtime.
"Chen," another asked, "will you wear those same protective sleeves in future games?"
He shook his head. "No, those were just for tonight. My All-Star limited editions."
The crowd chuckled again. For him, the sleeves were just props—cool to look at, but annoying to wear.
"How about your opening performance during the pregame show?" someone else called out.
Chen tilted his head in thought. "Nine out of ten."
"Why not ten?"
"Because giving myself ten feels a little arrogant."
Laughter echoed once more as the interview wrapped up.
Meanwhile, in another corner of the arena, Kobe Bryant was finishing his own media session.
Even though he'd barely played due to injury, reporters still surrounded him. His influence hadn't dimmed one bit.
"Kobe, you look pretty happy tonight," a reporter said. "What's the reason?"
Kobe smirked. "Winning, of course. That always feels good. And seeing Chen win MVP makes it even better. He used some of the moves I taught him—it's like a piece of me won, too."
The crowd of reporters laughed.
"Kobe," another asked, "why'd you only play three minutes tonight? That's not like you."
Kobe chuckled. "Actually, it's exactly like me. My hand's still not right, and if I go out there half-speed and someone beats me, I'll be hearing about it all season. So if I don't play, no one can say they beat me."
He gave a sly grin, and the whole scrum burst out laughing.
"Are you considering surgery?" someone else asked.
Kobe shook his head. "Nah. The West is too competitive this year. The standings are tight—we can't afford to lose focus. So no time for surgery. Just tape it up and keep playing."
Then came the question everyone was waiting for.
"What do you think about Chen's shot at the end?"
Kobe's grin widened. "The kid's got guts. But if I were in that situation, I'd have made the same call."
The follow-up was quick. "Then how about LeBron passing the ball three times in the final minutes?"
Kobe shrugged. "LeBron and I just play differently. Chen's like me—he takes the moment head-on. LeBron dominates in his own way. Both styles win games."
It was a perfect diplomatic answer. Kobe had been around long enough to dodge any media traps.
Finally, one reporter asked, "Be honest, was that buzzer-beater lucky?"
Kobe paused, then smiled faintly. "I don't think so. Chen just took the shot. God took care of the rest."
He looked away with a quiet laugh.
Tonight, even Kobe Bryant—the fiercest competitor in the league—couldn't help but tip his hat.
Half-joking or not, he'd just become a Chen Yan fan.
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