"Spike, hello."

"Hello, how is that old guy Reggie doing lately? There should be no problem with his body for the playoffs, right?"

Wayne never expected that the first question Spike Lee asked would actually be related to Miller.

Are you so concerned about him? Aren’t you enemies?

This is really a dark and dark expression of emotions.

"Reggie's physical condition is very good, and his performance in the playoffs will definitely be outstanding." Wayne answered.

"Really? That's great. You know, the playoffs without Reggie always feel like something is missing. By the way, has Reggie revealed to you his retirement plans? After he finishes this season

, will you still stay?”

Spike Lee is so concerned, he is afraid that he will lose an old and familiar friend.

"Reggie hasn't said anything about retiring yet. No one knows if he will be seen in the locker room next season." Wayne shrugged. Miller has indeed not said anything about retiring so far.

Although in the original history, this is Miller's last season, Wayne cannot guarantee that history will follow the original path.

If he wins the championship this season, will Miller be willing to continue playing if he fails to keep the record?

In the original history, when Miller retired, people generally believed that Miller was capable of continuing to play and that he maintained his condition very well.

Even in 2007, when the Celtics' Big Three were formed, they invited Miller to come back, but they were still optimistic about Miller's condition.

But Miller declined the invitation. Maybe he felt that if he didn't win the championship with the Pacers, it would be meaningless to win the championship.

"I really hope he can play for a few more years. There are fewer and fewer familiar figures in this league, aren't we?" Spike Lee took a sip of wine and seemed very sad.

Wayne really wanted to tell him: "Actually, the figures I am familiar with are still young now."

At this time, there was another flash of light at the door of the hotel.

Wayne thought some celebrity was coming, but when he took a closer look, he saw that it was Sharapova posing on the red carpet again.

No way, this is a business party.

Every hour on the hour, Sharapova would go out and pose for Motorola for a few minutes.

"By the way, can I ask? Are you and him really a couple?" Looking at the radiant Sharapova outside, Spike Lee nudged Wayne with his elbow.

"Well let's talk about Reggie, Spike."

Spike Lee is an old fan after all, and the two still have a lot in common.

Although he had a lot of unpleasantness with Reggie Miller, Spike Lee didn't have much resentment or prejudice against the Pacers.

In his own words: "I have had issues with many players. The "bad boy" of the Pistons once smashed my glasses with a ball before warm-up. But I don't think this is a despicable behavior, just like

I don't think Miller, who I had an affair with, was a despicable person.

Reggie doesn't have Barkley's rebounding ability, or Michael's flying in the air, but he's a fighter and he has a great heart. To be honest, I respect him."

Wayne then asked Spike Lee a question: "So is there a player you really hate?"

The famous New York director nodded firmly: "Scott Pippen."

"Huh?" This answer really surprised Wayne.

"He is a very small person. When Michael was here, he wanted to rebel. After Michael left, he proved his ability, but he was jealous like a resentful woman every day that Kukoc's salary was twice his.

Also, that dunk he humiliated Ewing, I guess that’s the real reason why I hate him.”

In this way, while chatting with Spike Lee, the party became less boring.

Spike Lee told Wayne many stories about himself and NBA stars, and finally wished the Pacers good results in the playoffs.

Of course, the blessing was very hard-core: "I hope that old Reggie can last a few more rounds. I also want to see more of his funny shots."

Finally, at ten o'clock in the evening, Sharapova got out and could enjoy her 18th birthday party.

"Wei, it's been a long time." Although she was very tired, Sharapova still had a smile on her face when she returned to Wayne.

"Whatever, I enjoyed your party."

"By the way, the band performance is about to start, let's go there."

Sharapova pulled Wayne to a stage where several good-looking singers were preparing.

Magic Red is said to be a very popular rock band in the United States.

Anyway, it’s just that Wayne doesn’t know him.

When the band started performing, Sharapova took Wayne's hand and shook it, bouncing along with the music, not caring about the eyes of the people around her.

Wayne felt as though this was the real beginning of her birthday party.

After the band performed, Sharapova cut a five-story exaggerated cake in front of everyone, announcing that she had officially entered the adult world, and the birthday party reached its climax.

Everyone raised their glasses to wish Sharapova a happy birthday.

After the climax, the atmosphere dropped faster than Wayne imagined.

The party is over and everyone leaves one by one.

Sharapova can't even name many of these people, and she may never see them again in this life.

But this same group of people showed up at his grand 18th birthday party.

Commercial birthday parties are so ridiculous.

Wayne was also about to call the driver to come over and drive away, but was held down by Sharapova.

"Are you leaving?" Sharapova looked at Wayne, her eyes full of reluctance.

"Yeah, there's no rush."

"Then can you accompany me back to my room later? I have too many things for one person to carry."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll wait for you." Wayne nodded and continued to sit where he was.

Watching people leave the hotel, step into luxury cars, and drive away amidst the gazes of reporters and the envious eyes of passers-by.

Tonight, Wayne had a deeper understanding of the word lavish.

Indeed, it is easy to get lost in this atmosphere.

Wayne couldn't help but pat his chest. Fortunately, I have strong determination!

Hmm? Why do you feel like there is something strange on your chest?

Half an hour later, everyone had left and Sharapova's car also arrived at the door.

Wayne helped her carry some greeting cards and small gifts into the car, but when she arrived at the hotel, Sharapova said there was no need to take them!

"The waiter will help me deliver it to the door of the room later."

"I wiped it, then why did you ask me to do it!?" Wayne asked silently in his heart.

Why do you feel like you've been kidnapped?

Okay, there are routines!

I didn’t expect you to be such a little Sawa!

I regard you as a good friend, but you want to

"Actually, I want to share a small cake with you alone. Haha, to be honest, I don't feel like celebrating my birthday at all. It's just a show.

So, would you like to cut the real birthday cake with me, Wei."

Oh, it turns out I was eating cake, so that’s okay.

As soon as Sharapova walked into the room, she immediately took out a small cake from the refrigerator.

Wayne helped her light candles and put on her birthday hat.

Sharapova smiled happily, at least more realistically than at the party just now.

"Then, let me make a wish." Looking at the candle in front of her, Sharapova put her hands in front of her chest and made a wish seriously.

Wayne was distracted looking at the candlelight. How long has it been since he celebrated his birthday?

"Huh~"

Sharapova blew out all the candles in one breath. At this time, it was just past 12 o'clock.

She has really grown up.

"Thank you, Wayne, it's great to have you with me tonight."

"Well, it's an honor to attend your coming-of-age birthday party."

"Wei" Suddenly, Sharapova put her arms around Wayne's arms and leaned closer.

There will be no excuses anymore!

Things were moved and the secret cake was cut.

It's time for a showdown.

"Do you know what wish I just made?"
To be continued...