Lin Yu, who had been leaning back on the bench, saw this turn of events, and his eyes turned red. He jumped up from the bench.
Lin Yu had a special bond with Big Ben, not just because he was the first player he had recruited.
Big Ben's honest and straightforward personality made it hard not to like him. He was Lin Yu's first player and also the first friend he had made since crossing over.
Seeing Big Ben suffer such a grave injustice, Lin Yu lost his temper. If anything happened to Big Ben, he vowed to dedicate his life to one thing: making Mason suffer worse than death.
Flying Car on the court wore a ferocious expression. Just half an hour ago, he had solemnly promised Big Ben he would protect him.
Whether driven by his innate sense of justice or a desire to honor his promise, Flying Car couldn't stand idly by.
"Damn you! Filthy scum like you belong in hell!"
Flying Car shoved Mason and unleashed a torrent of curses.
Mason, towering a full head above the shorter Flying Car, wore a cruel, mocking grin.
"Rod, I might not be your match in the draft, but in a fight? Think you can handle one punch from me?"
Flycar and Little Mason were actually rookies from the same draft class, both entering the league in 1988. Flycar was a first-round pick, while Little Mason was a third-rounder.
Back then, a third-round pick was equivalent to an undrafted free agent today.
"Cough..."
Big Ben, on the floor, began coughing violently. Flycar hurried over to check on him.
"You okay, Ben?" Flycar asked anxiously.
"I'm fine."
Big Ben staggered to his feet, his gaze drifting toward the sidelines as he searched for Lin Yu.
When their eyes finally met, he saw the sheer relief in Lin Yu's eyes.
Lin Yu exhaled deeply. Thank goodness Big Ben was built like a tank—if it had been Legler taking that elbow from Little Mason, he might have ended up with broken ribs.
Recalling Mason's viciousness, Lin Yu had no intention of letting him off!
He made only one gesture—a barely perceptible nod toward Big Ben.
The two shared an unspoken understanding. Lin Yu knew why Big Ben had risen and sought his gaze: he was asking if he could retaliate.
And Lin Yu's nod gave Big Ben a clear answer: Retaliate!
The next instant, Daben seemed to receive some signal, pulling the flying vehicle behind him before lunging toward Little Mason—a hook punch aimed straight for Mason's face.
Even though Mason had braced himself and dodged, the punch still swept across his bridge of the nose.
With otherworldly power, that single swipe inflicted chilling damage. Fei Che, watching from a short distance, could clearly hear the crisp crack of Mason's nasal bone shattering.
Blood instantly streamed down Mason's face. With his savagery unleashed, there was no way Da Ben would stop there.
He unleashed a flurry of punches, hammering into Mason's ribs.
The motorcycle rider froze in terror. Staring at Daben, who looked like a rabid tiger, he only wanted to flee as far as possible, terrified of being caught in the crossfire of Daben's fists.
He was a veteran who had witnessed countless on-field altercations over the years, but he had never seen anything this pretty, unrestrained.
Typically, a fight starts with some trash talk, followed by a few shoves back and forth. Then teammates rush in, and after a flurry of wild punches, the brawl is over.
But after getting up, Big Ben only said, "I'm fine," skipping the shoving phase entirely. His fist, as big as a clay pot, came crashing down immediately.
Little Mason couldn't react fast enough and got hammered right then and there. Fei Che watched from the sidelines, hearing only the dull thuds of Big Ben's fists connecting with Mason's ribs.
In that instant, a thought flashed through Fei Che's mind: he needed to come up with a fitting nickname for Big Ben. After all, this was his locker room ally.
"Bone Crusher."
The first thing that popped into Fly's mind was Onsler's nickname, and he realized it fit Big Ben perfectly....
Watching Little Mason get beaten up, the Hornets players couldn't just stand by. They rushed forward.
Legler and Fly quickly stepped in to hold back the Hornets players, afraid Big Ben would get overwhelmed in the melee.
Webber also wanted to intervene. After all, as the nominal leader of the Bullets, he had to stand by his teammates during such an on-court confrontation.
But Howard deliberately tugged at Webber's jersey, clearly signaling him to mind his own business.
This subtle gesture caught Lin Yuling's attention, instantly plunging his impression of Howard to a freezing point.
Having played alongside Yao Ming for three years—during which the Rockets also featured the veteran Dikembe Mutombo—Howard earned the nickname "Uncle Howard" among Chinese fans.
Most domestic fans held favorable views of Uncle Howard, and Lin Yu was no exception.
But Uncle Howard's actions just now instantly erased any goodwill Lin Yu had toward him. Ben Wallace had been elbowed—as the team's power forward and Wallace's frontcourt partner—not only did he not charge in to defend Wallace, he didn't even budge.
He could have helped Wallace, yet he pulled Webber back to stop him?
Lin Yu could guess why he did this—it was likely because he felt the connection between Big Ben and the fast break threatened his and Webber's standing on the team.
Their offensive impact wasn't significantly affected in the last game against the Celtics, but their rebounding numbers took a hit. Webber, who averaged 10 rebounds per game, only grabbed 6 in that matchup, while Howard, who also averaged 10 rebounds, dropped to 5.
Tonight, it wasn't just rebounds—their offensive involvement had evaporated, and their stats had plummeted.
One or two games might be manageable, but if this continued, especially for Howard, holding a hundred-million-dollar contract while averaging just 13 points and six rebounds per game would make him the league's biggest laughingstock.
Lin Yu recalled the old saying: There are no wrong nicknames, only wrong names. Uncle Howard's moniker was "NOOK"—suggesting corners, secluded spots, or the back of a chair. His scheming was indeed rather sinister.
Even if Lin Yu disliked Uncle Howard now, he couldn't really do anything about it.
The referee blew his whistle and rushed to the brawl, separating Big Ben and Little Mason.
True to his reputation as the notorious New York veteran, Little Mason still had the strength to fight back even as blood poured from his face and Big Ben delivered repeated blows to his ribs. The two wrestled fiercely.
It took three referees and players from both teams to finally pry them apart.
The head referee's call came as no surprise: both Big Ben and Little Mason were ejected from the game.
Both men knew this outcome was inevitable. After exchanging a glance, they each turned and made their way back to the locker room.
Onseld abruptly left his seat and hurried toward the locker room. Mason's elbow earlier had left him deeply troubled.
After finally securing a sharp-shooting big man like Davis, if Mason were to sideline him, Onseld would absolutely refuse to let Mason leave Washington.
Lin Yu sighed. Being a coach was truly a tough job, far more difficult than being a player.
Since his arrival, he'd been racking his brain daily over the next move. Just six days in, and Lin Yu felt like he'd lost countless brain cells.
If everything went according to plan, it would be manageable. But life was unpredictable. Tonight's on-court altercation meant that even as the victim, Big Ben would likely face suspension.
With Big Ben suspended, how could they possibly face the Hawks?
The odds were already slim, and without Big Ben, they'd be halved.
Lin Yu had envisioned sweeping all three games for a perfect record, but that now seemed virtually impossible.
After the ejections, the game continued.
Riding the momentum built over the first three quarters, the Hornets couldn't mount a comeback in the final period. The Bullets secured a 97-91 home victory.
Legler went 10-for-17 from three-point range tonight, shooting an impressive 59%. He also hit 1 of 3 mid-range jumpers and 2 of 2 free throws, finishing with a career-high 35 points.
It's a shame he didn't break the NBA single-game three-point record.
The Express's stats were also incredibly impressive: 24 points, 20 assists, two rebounds, and two steals—truly Hall of Fame-caliber point guard numbers.
To date, only 30 players in NBA history have recorded 20 points and 20 assists in a single game, with the vast majority coming from John Stockton, Magic Johnson, and Kevin Johnson. Flyer's performance tonight stands shoulder-to-shoulder with these legendary greats.
Lin Yu had no time to exchange pleasantries with his teammates. He was deeply concerned about Ben Wallace.
The game had just ended, and Lin Yu didn't even shake hands with opposing coach Cohns; instead, hurrying straight back to the locker room.
He assumed Ben must be in the worst possible mood. After taking such a vicious elbow from Mason on the court, he was likely facing a suspension—how could he possibly feel good?
Yet as Lin Yu approached the locker room door, he heard nothing but laughter and cheerful chatter inside.
"Huh? Ben, you're okay?"
Lin Yu entered and asked in puzzlement.
"What could be wrong? Look at Big Ben's frame—not even the Belgian Blue bulls are as strong as him."
"He gave that kid a proper beating out there, cementing his reputation as a tough guy. Who's gonna mess with Big Ben now?"
Ancelot burst into laughter, his earlier worried expression completely gone.
"What about the suspension? Mason got hurt pretty badly. The league's probably gonna slap him with a hefty fine, right?"
"It's no big deal. Back in the day, Karl Malone nearly elbowed Isaiah Thomas to death on the court—forty stitches—and he only got a one-game suspension."
"Ben Wallace isn't a superstar like Malone so that the punishment might be a bit harsher, but it won't be too extreme. I'd guess two games max."
Onseld waved dismissively, unconcerned.
Lin Yu relaxed. Thinking about it, it made sense. If Malone nearly killed someone and only got one game, Big Ben's situation was far less severe. He shouldn't face too many games.