"This isn't me."
During halftime, Chen Yu held a jar of Vaseline, helping Hardaway apply it to the cuts on his shoulder.
Someone hadn't cut their nails and had left three scratch marks.
But it was also a testament to how intense the defense on Hardaway had been.
"What?" Chen Yu paused and looked up to ask.
Hardaway was sitting down, seeming a bit absent-minded, lost in thought.
Hearing Chen Yu's question, Hardaway snapped out of it and quickly shook his head. "It's nothing."
Chen Yu frowned. He felt that Hardaway was a little different today, as if something was weighing heavily on his mind.
"Go on, and be careful out there." Chen Yu patted Hardaway's shoulder, then turned to tend to Olajuwon.
The old-timer had only rested for three minutes in the first half. On top of that, starting in the second quarter, he had been constantly helping on defense against Nowitzki. He was really giving it his all.
