After defeating the Pacers, the Wizards'' morale soared, and with two more victories, they weed thest day of 2001 with a 16-13 record.


    On December 31, 2001, Wizards owner Abe Pollin hosted a banquet for the yers and coaching staff.


    At the banquet, Pollin raised his ss and self-deprecatingly said, "At the beginning of the season, I predicted that we would make the yoffs. At the owners'' meeting, almost everyoneughed at me. Now look at where we are? Where are we?"


    Wes Unseld chimed in, "We''re fourth in the Eastern Conference, Mr. Pollin!"


    "Fourth in the Eastern Conference!" Pollinughed, "Fourth in the Eastern Conference! We can do better! As long as we''re under the outstanding leadership of Michael and Doug, we can do even better!"


    Then, he began thanking specific people, especially the two he made a point of singling out.


    He praised Jordan as the best leader the Wizards had ever had after Unseld, and that His Airness, nearly 40, was still an example to everyone.


    "We all know, without Michael, we wouldn''t havee this far!"


    Yu Fei listened silently to Pollin''s words, with thoughts asionally popping into his mind.


    Without Jordan, we wouldn''t havee this far? What about without me, with my average of 16 points, 6 rebounds, and 6 assists per game?


    Then, Pollin thanked Collins: "Doug is a smart coach. He has done a remarkable job," especially in undermining Kwame''s confidence and haphazardly arranging the starting lineup, in which he truly excelled. "He loves to work hard and I love him for it. Every day he shows the yers what''s most important. What''s most important, huh? Kneeling down and calling Jordan ''daddy''?" It''s relentless defense, teamwork, and hard work! From the past few games, you can see they''ve all learned!"


    Collins was moved, as if his work had been recognized.


    "Of course, this would be impossible without the effort and dedication of other yers... Am I up next? Come on, thank me thoroughly, don''t be shy." "Rip, I really like this young man, he reminds me of the almost extinct ''Greatest Generation''. He works as hard as the ''Greatest Generation'' every night, withoutint." Damn yellow-toothed troll, do you think he doesn''t want toin? He just doesn''t have the guts! "And poor Christian Laettner, who even yed with a fractured bone, his absence is a big loss for us!"


    Alright, alright, even Jianzhong ranks higher than me, right?


    Yu Fei had expected Pollin''s "cold shoulder" in his speech.


    Who told him to reject the big boss'' recruitment?


    If he had epted Pollin''s recruitment at the beginning, the big boss would have definitely ranked him alongside Jordan and Collins today, but he didn''t, so the big boss could only pretend to have amnesia and put him, the true change maker for the team,st.


    "Of course, there are also some outstanding young yers, Tyronn, Frye, Kwame... Your performance is equally important to the team." What to do, I really want to stuff the goose liver from the table into that yellow-toothed troll''s mouth so he can''t speak anymore. "Really, I''m proud of you all, and I''m happy for myself!" Be less happy, an owner like you only brings misfortune. "We finally have a team we can be proud of! Michael has built them, and the people of D.C. are so excited to see the Wizards at MCI because you keep getting better and winning games. We arepetitive mostly thanks to Doug and Michael... This is how we should be ying. Now, I look forward to the yoffs in a few months. I believe we will get there... I mean, let''s keep moving forward! Let''s keep moving forward! And, as I''ve told everyone, I know Michael will lead us there!"


    Finally, it ended, and Yu Fei could eat like nothing had happened, not caring about what the boss was saying anymore.


    Thomas Flynn, the beat reporter for The Washington Times, seized the rare opportunity to get close to the owner.


    Because Steve Wyche of The Washington Post was the reporter pointed out by Jordan, Pollin didn''t have a close rtionship with him; it was Tim Flynn from The Times, who had joined at thest minute through the back door, that Pollin was willing to engage with.


    Flynn approached Pollin and asked, "Do you keep in touch with Michael often, Mr. Pollin?"


    "We maintain contact," Pollin replied vaguely.


    Flynn didn''t want that kind of answer, but what did he want?


    In D.C., merchandise with Jordan''sbel flew off the shelves quickly. His jerseys, ranging from 35 to 169 US dors, were hot sellers. And during the past three consecutive away game victories, just as often happens at MCI, people chanted his name—Michael, Michael. This was not just encouragement; it felt more like a pleasing slogan, more reverent than fanatical. Sometimes, when he made a gentleyup instead of a m dunk, some fans would boo softly—not an expression of anger, just a friendly expression of disappointment: most of the boos came from middle-aged fans carrying the burden of expectations.


    Reality was eroding Jordan''s myth. Even on nights when he performed well, some fans left the stadium feeling a strange sense of loss, believing they missed something, but couldn''t pinpoint why. Their weariness had nothing to do with Jordan''s output, only the experience: an evening of beautiful fadeaway shots could never satisfy them as much as a tomahawk dunk. The art of Flying Jordan wasn''t in his total points, but in those two words, His Airness, yet he was losing the magic of Flight.