Kyrie Irving DEMANDS a Trade After Nico Harrison FORCES Injured Players to Play – ‘I WARNED YOU!’

Kyrie Irving DEMANDS a Trade After Nico Harrison FORCES Injured Players to Play – ‘I WARNED YOU!’

Kyrie Irving sat at the end of the Dallas Mavericks bench, his arms crossed, jaw clenched. He wasn’t watching the game. He wasn’t focused on the score or the pace of the play. In fact, nothing mattered to him at that moment—except what he had just witnessed. His teammates were limping, struggling, and yet Nico Harrison, the team’s general manager, had forced them to stay on the court.

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Jaden Hardy was dragging himself back on defense, barely able to put any weight on his knee. PJ Washington was moving gingerly down the court, clearly unable to run properly due to a serious ankle injury. Both players were in visible pain, but there was Harrison, standing courtside, arms folded, ignoring the obvious signs of distress. He had pushed them to play.

Kyrie had warned them. He had told the Mavericks’ front office—no, he had begged them—that pushing injured players onto the court was not only reckless, but dangerous. He had known that someone was going to get hurt. And now, right in front of him, it had happened.

Jaden Hardy attempted to plant his foot and his knee buckled beneath him. The rookie collapsed on the court, his body sprawled out, unable to get up. Kyrie shot up from his seat, his heart pounding. His worst fears had come true. He turned to look at Jason Kidd, who simply looked away, avoiding the eye contact. He turned to Nico Harrison, who stood there, doing nothing. His eyes locked with Nico’s, but there was no response, no urgency.

The trainers rushed to Hardy’s side, attempting to help him up, but Kyrie knew. He could tell this wasn’t a minor tweak. This wasn’t just soreness from a long season. This was the injury he had been fearing—this was the consequence of pushing players too far. And now, somebody was going to answer for it.

Without waiting for the quarter to end, without waiting for the trainers to finish their work, Kyrie turned and stormed off the court. He was done. This was the last straw. He headed straight for the locker room. His footsteps echoed through the empty hallway as he made his way down, each step heavier than the last. His anger wasn’t just about the game anymore; it was about the treatment of his teammates, his friends, his brothers on the court. The Mavericks’ front office had put them all at risk, and Kyrie was done being silent.

As he burst through the locker room door, he could feel the tension in the air. The trainers turned to look at him as he stormed inside. Jaden Hardy was still wincing in pain, clutching his knee, his face contorted with frustration. PJ Washington was shaking his head, clearly upset, unable to fully comprehend what had just happened. And there, in the corner, Nico Harrison was sitting, as if everything was normal, as if the events unfolding before him were just another part of the game.

Kyrie took a deep breath and locked eyes with his teammates. He could feel the weight of the room bearing down on him, the silence palpable. He looked at the trainers, his voice hard and cold. “He needs an MRI, now.”

One of the trainers hesitated, stuttering, “But we were told to let him try and…”

“No,” Kyrie cut him off, his tone sharp. “We’re not doing that. Not tonight. Not ever again.”

It wasn’t just the injury that angered Kyrie; it was the entire system. The Mavericks had been treating their players like disposable pieces on a chessboard, pushing them to their breaking points for the sake of winning games. Kyrie wasn’t going to stand for it anymore. He wasn’t going to let his teammates be forced into risking their careers for a management team that didn’t care.

He looked at Jaden Hardy, still struggling to compose himself. “They did this to you,” Kyrie said, his voice booming in the silence of the room.

Jaden’s eyes flickered up, PJ let out a long breath. There was no need to ask who Kyrie was talking about. They all knew. They knew exactly who was responsible. Kyrie turned to the trainers and snapped, “Get him the help he needs. Now.”

Kyrie wasn’t done yet. He wasn’t just angry with Nico Harrison. He wasn’t just angry with the front office for putting his teammates in this position. No, this was bigger than that. This was about respect—respect for the players who sacrificed their bodies every night to play the game they loved. He wasn’t going to let Nico get away with this.

He reached into his locker and grabbed his phone. Without a second thought, he opened up his agent’s contact and sent the message that would shake the entire NBA to its core.

“Get me out of here.”

Kyrie stormed back into the locker room, his phone still in his hand. The room was still silent. The players and coaches could sense the tension building. Nico Harrison barely had time to look up before Kyrie was in his face, no cameras, no media, just the two of them. But even if they hadn’t said a word, everyone in that room could hear the message loud and clear.

“This is on you,” Kyrie’s voice echoed through the room, full of venom and frustration.

Nico didn’t flinch. He sighed deeply, folding his arms across his chest. “Kyrie, calm down,” he said, his tone dismissive.

Kyrie’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me to calm down.” His voice dropped, becoming quieter, but more dangerous. “I saw Jaden collapse on the court. I saw PJ barely able to walk. And now, I know exactly who to blame.”

Nico shrugged. “Kyrie, you’re blowing this out of proportion.”

Kyrie stepped closer, standing right in front of him. “Blowing it out of proportion? You looked Jaden in the eye and told him he was fine to go. You told PJ he’d be alright. And now look at them.”

Nico sighed. “We needed bodies on the floor.”

Kyrie snapped. He shoved a chair across the room, the sound of it clattering against the lockers filling the air. “You don’t care about us. You don’t care about our careers. You just need bodies to throw out there.”

“This is the NBA,” Nico muttered. “Everyone plays through injuries.”

Kyrie’s laugh was short, bitter, and without humor. “Nah, this ain’t the NBA. This is you playing with people’s careers.”

Nico sighed, shaking his head. “Kyrie, you’re emotional. Let’s take a step back.”

Kyrie took another step forward, closing the distance. “A step back? Nah, I’m gonna take a step out.” He pointed toward Jaden, still being helped by trainers. “That’s on you. I’m done.”

With that, Kyrie grabbed his phone again and dialed his agent. He put the phone on speaker, knowing everyone in the room would hear the words that would change everything.

“Tell them I want out,” Kyrie said coldly. “I don’t care where. I’m done here.”

The entire room went silent. Nico’s face drained of color. He had no response, no words to offer. He had pushed too far, and now Kyrie was making sure everyone knew it.

Jason Kidd, standing to the side, looked away, knowing this was more than just a heated argument—it was the beginning of something bigger. The Mavericks were no longer in control of the situation. Kyrie had just taken the reins.

“I warned you,” Kyrie said, his voice soft but deadly. “Now, you’ll deal with the consequences.”

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Kyrie turned and walked out of the locker room, his footsteps echoing down the hall. The door slammed behind him, and the room was left in complete silence. Nico Harrison stood frozen, realizing that this wasn’t just a simple trade request. This was the collapse of everything he had built.

Kyrie had just fired the first shot in what was sure to be a war—one that would shake the entire NBA.