The first punch that shocked the basketball world

Afei's trial results were not ideal.

As January approached, he still hadn't secured a formal NBA contract.

Los Angeles, Alhambra.

January in Los Angeles doesn't feel like winter.

The temperature hovers between 15 and 20 degrees Celsius year-round.

If you go out wearing a light jacket, you have to take it off and drape it over your arm after walking just a few steps at noon.

Alhambra is a small town in Los Angeles County, about a 20-minute drive east of downtown.

The city is most famous for only one label: Chinese.

In the entire Los Angeles area, the Alhambra has the highest proportion of Chinese people, exceeding 40% of the total population.

Walking down the street, all the signs are in Chinese.

The supermarket sells soy sauce, tofu, and Lao Gan Ma chili sauce, and the bank tellers speak Mandarin.

Newly arrived Chinese immigrants to the United States usually choose this as their first stop.

The language is spoken, meals are convenient, and even square dancing can be easily organized with enough people.

But the prosperity only remains on the surface.

Compared to downtown Los Angeles, Alhambra is like another world of poverty.

The streets are narrow and the buildings are old.

Most of the shops along the roadside are in the style of the 90s, with tiled surfaces and severely faded shop signs.

The houses in the residential area are packed together, with tiny yards and patches of yellow and green on the lawn.

The overall atmosphere of the city is very similar to that of a small county town in northern China in the early 2000s.

It was lively, crowded, and full of life, but it also had a touch of poverty.

A black Ford Explorer drives on a narrow street.

There were two people in the car.

One Black man, one white man.

The white man sitting in the back row was named Ryan West.

The son of NBA legend Jerry West.

Jerry West, 34, has been a scout for the Los Angeles Lakers for 11 years.

His father is the NBA logo man, one of the greatest players in Lakers history, and a godfather-like figure.

But these accolades didn't bring him much convenience; instead, they became a burden.

After 11 years in the Lakers' scouting department, he was still just an ordinary scout, neither high nor low.

Some people say he rose to power because of his father's connections.

Some people say that if he didn't have a father, he wouldn't even be able to keep this job.

West never defended himself.

He simply placed his laptop on his lap, staring at the data tables on the screen with a slight frown.

The driver was a black man with a stubble beard.

He was in his forties, with messy hair, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and his left hand resting on the car window, occasionally flicking off ash.

"Trust me, Ryan, this trip will definitely not be in vain." The black man turned his head and shouted loudly to the back row, "The person I'm taking you to see will definitely surprise you, I swear."

This black man's name is Marcus Tucker.

A local street broker in Los Angeles.

The profession of street broker was popular for a while in the early 2000s.

To put it simply, they are the underlings of scouts, who specialize in scouring amateur fields, community leagues, and high school leagues for grassroots players who haven't been discovered by official scouts.

Once you find a suitable candidate, you introduce them to an NBA team or agency and take a referral fee.

Profit from both ends.

The players sign contracts, and the club takes a cut of their signing bonuses.

The team takes a liking to the player, and they get a referral fee from the team.

But the money they earn is hard-earned and pitifully meager.

Marcus graduated from a proper sports university, majoring in sports management.

The year I graduated, I was full of ambition and wanted to become an agent at a top agency.

As a result, I submitted dozens of resumes, but they all disappeared without a trace.

Without resources, connections, or a powerful background, who will guide you?

In the end, he was forced to live on the streets and became a street broker.

This line of work may sound undignified, but it has indeed produced some legends.

Alston, the former All-American streetball king, was scouted from Rucker Park by a streetball agent.

That guy went from playing on the streets to the NCAA, then to the NBA, and eventually became a starter on the Rockets, where he was Yao Ming's teammate.

of course.

That's extremely rare.

Most street brokers will never find a player who can make it to the NBA in their entire career.

Marcus has been around for over a decade, and his biggest assets are just a few guys who are still playing in the Development League.

Little West looked up at him but didn't say anything.

He has known Marcus for five or six years, and they have a decent personal relationship.

But you can only believe about 20% of what Marcus says.

Whether or not you can make money as a street broker depends entirely on your persuasive skills.

Players have to be praised to the skies, such as "the next Jordan," "a poor man's Kobe," "Larry Bird II," using whatever exaggerated words are used.

If you don't entice the scouts, who would travel all the way to see a streetball player?

Marcus clearly realized he had exaggerated a bit, and West simply didn't believe him.

He coughed awkwardly twice and stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray.

"Believe me, Ryan, this time it's different." His tone became more sincere. "I was telling the truth, not a word of boasting. That guy can definitely solve the Lakers' immediate problem."

Little West shook his head and remained silent.

He had heard similar words far too many times.

Every street agent who called him started with, "I've discovered a genius," "This kid could definitely play in the NBA," or "You absolutely have to come and see him."

The results of it?

Nine and a half times out of ten, they're either physically strong but not very bright, or skilled but defensively inept players who rely on stats.

It is undeniable that professional players can emerge from streetball courts.

But the probability is so low that it can be ignored.

He came here partly because he did have some connections with Marcus and couldn't very well refuse him outright.

But the main reason.

The Lakers are in a very awkward situation right now.

Last summer, the Lakers made a move that shocked the entire league.

Steve Nash was traded from the Suns, Dwight Howard was traded from the Magic, and Kobe Bryant and Pau Gasol were added to the team.

Four All-Stars, the Super F4 Group.

The entire league was in an uproar.

The media keeps hyping it up, saying the Lakers are a shoo-in for the championship.

To say that this lineup wouldn't win the championship would be a failure.

Some say Kobe will win his sixth championship, tying Jordan's record.

When the season started, everyone was dumbfounded.

Mike Brown was fired after a 1-4 record in five games.

Assistant coach Bickerstaff temporarily filled in for five games, winning four and losing one. The record looked decent, but the management felt he couldn't manage the situation and wasn't up to the task.

Finally, the Lakers signed Mike D'Antoni with a high salary.

Master of run-and-gun offense.

result?

The results still haven't improved.

It's mid-January now, and the Lakers are barely 7th in the Western Conference.

The Jazz and Rockets are close behind and could knock them out of the playoffs at any time.

When the team can't win, the locker room explodes.

The conflict between Kobe and Howard is deepening.

The two argued in the locker room every few days.

Kobe disliked Howard's attitude, saying he didn't play hard enough on defense and was always joking around.

Howard complained that Kobe was a ball hog, hogging possession and preventing Howard from getting the ball in the paint.

Even the usually good-natured Steve Nash complained to the media several times about his disappointment with the team's locker room atmosphere and his dissatisfaction with the distribution of his ball possession.

In short, this Lakers team looks star-studded and aims to win the championship, but in reality, it is riddled with holes and could crumble at the slightest touch.

In addition, Artest's performance has declined significantly.

At 33, Artest's defense is no longer what it used to be.

His footwork has slowed down, and he can't keep up with lateral movements. The former best defensive player has now become an ATM for outside shooters.

West has two purposes for coming out this time.

First, hide.

I'd rather hide in the locker room and deal with that mess than get caught in the crossfire.

After all, his father, Jerry West, isn't having an easy time either.

Although the old man is no longer in the Lakers' management, the media always likes to drag him out to comment on the Lakers' mess, which is very annoying.

Second, try your luck.

Let's see if we can find a quality player for the team who is good at defense and doesn't need the ball.

I don't need to be a starter, just be a regular in the rotation.

The tasks assigned by superiors must be completed.

The Ford Explorer stopped in front of a Chinese restaurant.

The restaurant is small, with a red sign hanging above the entrance that reads "Xiao Zhu's Soup and Rice".

Chinese restaurants like these are everywhere in the Alhambra.

The most common occupation for Chinese immigrants to the United States is running a restaurant.

The earliest Chinese immigrants to the United States almost entirely relied on this skill to make a living.

Chinese netizens often joke that going to the US to make big money means washing dishes.

They've all become popular internet memes.

But despite all that, the first group of people who came to the United States to open restaurants did make money.

Although we may not be rich or powerful, as long as we are diligent and don't gamble or visit prostitutes, we can still make a living.

However, most Chinese restaurants believe in adapting to local customs.

The dishes have all been changed to a flavor that's neither too sweet nor too salty, to cater to American palates.

General Tso's Chicken and Fortune Cookies are things that Chinese people have never even heard of, but Americans enjoy them immensely.

It's rare to find a place like Xiao Zhu's Soup Rice, which serves authentic home-style cooking.

At the entrance of the restaurant, several elderly men and women sat together playing cards.

A small plastic table, a small stool, cards in hand, and chattering away in Chinese.

It looks like there's not much business in the store.

Marcus got out of the car alone.

As soon as he walked up to the group of elderly men and women, they all scattered in a flash.

They stopped playing cards, moved the stools up, and stared at him warily.

The Alhambra is not a safe place.

When Black people appear in Chinese communities, especially those who look somewhat unrefined, people instinctively keep their distance.

"Don't be nervous, don't be nervous."

Marcus quickly raised his hands to either side of his head, making a harmless gesture: "I'm looking for Lin. Is Lin Fei in the restaurant?"

Upon hearing the name Lin Fei, the elderly men and women exchanged glances.

"Oh, looking for Xiaofei?"

An elderly woman wearing reading glasses sat back down and pointed inside the restaurant: "At this hour, she should be helping out in the kitchen. You can go in."

Marcus breathed a sigh of relief.

At the same time, another car drove up from not far away.

The white Chevrolet Cruze followed behind the Ford, clearly having followed all the way.

The car came to a stop, and a Black man got out.

He was about 1.9 meters tall, with a well-proportioned figure, wearing a tracksuit and headphones, and looked rather impatient.

He walked up to the Ford and knocked on the window.

Little West lowered the glass.

"Andrew, the player I'm going to try out is inside." West pointed in the direction of the restaurant. "Since you're here, why don't you spar with him for a bit?"

The black man called Andrew raised an eyebrow.

Andrew Goodlock.

"Who is this guy?" Goodlock asked. "Is he worth you coming all this way?"

This question stumped little West.

Marcus had indeed told him the man's name before, but he hadn't remembered it.

He only remembered that the guy had a nickname.

"shadow."

Little West said, "My nickname is Shadow."

"It means his defense is like a shadow clinging to you, you can't shake him off. He's supposedly an extremely tough defender."

"shadow?"

Goodlock scoffed, "What a lame nickname."

Just then, a person walked out of the restaurant.

Yellow skin, black hair, very tall, broad shoulders.

He was wearing a gray hooded sweatshirt, black sweatpants, and a pair of old Kobe 4 shoes.

He looked to be in his early twenties, with a strong and robust build, and a very steady gait.

Little West pointed.

"That's the guy."

He spoke while observing silently.

He is about two meters tall.

In today's NBA, the ideal height for a swingman is...

His wingspan looks good, and he has big hands.

But seeing that yellow-skinned face, little West shook his head in disappointment.

Very few Asian players can make it in the NBA.

After counting them all, there's only one: Yao Ming.

At most, add Yi Jianlian.

But both of them are inside players who are over 2.1 meters tall and rely on their natural talent.

A yellow-skinned defender?

As of now, there's only one Jeremy Lin.

Sun Yue, who once won a championship ring with the Lakers?

forget it.

That's a water dispenser mascot.

He barely played a few minutes throughout the entire season; he was just there to make up the numbers.

But when Jeremy Lin participated in the draft, although he was not selected, his physical test data was quite impressive.

His explosiveness, speed, and jumping ability are all at the level of a Black guard.

Many people say that Jeremy Lin's athletic talent is already the ceiling for Asian guards.

West was certain that the Asian man in front of him had never signed up for the draft.

At least in his memory, there was no information related to this person.

Not having participated in the draft means that he has never even played in NCAAD1.

What level of skill can this kind of player have?

Little West has already given up hope.

He felt that this trip was likely to be a waste of time again.

Marcus pulled the young man to the front of the car.

The young man was very tall; standing next to the car, he was more than half a head taller than Little West inside.

"Ryan, this is the Lin Fei I told you about."

Marcus, like an enthusiastic salesman, gesticulated wildly as he introduced, "A genius! A rising star in Alhambra's baseball scene! He's destined to be a legend on the West Coast, a rising star! And let me tell you, this kid's defense..."

Marcus poured out every word of praise he could think of.

But there was complete silence inside the car.

Little West leaned back in his seat, staring blankly out the window.

Goodlock stood by the car with his arms crossed, a mocking smile on his lips.

The atmosphere was so awkward it could be described as a three-bedroom, one-living room apartment.

Marcus himself got bored with what he was saying and reluctantly shut his mouth.

Little West had no time to listen to his nonsense.

He shook his head slightly, and Chong Linfei gestured to him.

"Get in the car."

Lin Fei nodded, opened the car door, and sat in the passenger seat.

Andrew Goodlock gave Lin Fei a careful look.

His expression clearly showed his disdain.

He deliberately yawned and said to West in the car with obvious annoyance, "Are you kidding me, Ryan? You made me come all this way just to play a game of ball with this guy?"

Saying this to someone's face clearly shows disdain.

Lin Fei simply sat in the car, watching him smile, without saying a word.

He seemed to completely disregard Goodlock's provocation.

His nonchalant attitude actually made Goodlock a little angry.

If he hadn't hoped to return to the Los Angeles Lakers and secure a ten-day contract, he wouldn't have gone all the way to a godforsaken place like Alhambra with West.

Playing a game against a yellow-skinned streetball player?

It's embarrassing to tell anyone.

Receiving no response, Goodlock snorted in annoyance and turned back to his car.

The two cars drove one after the other toward the outdoor basketball court not far away.

While driving, Goodlock held the steering wheel with one hand and took out his phone with the other.

He dialed his best friend's number.

"Hey bro, guess where I am right now?"

Goodlock exclaimed dramatically, "Alhambra! Do you know what Alhambra is? It's that Chinatown in Los Angeles, that run-down place full of Chinese people."

Laughter came from the other end of the phone.

"Lakers scout Ryan West called me over," Goodlock continued to grumble. "Guess what he wanted me to do? Play a game against a pickup player. And the other guy is a yellow-skinned Chinese guy! I really don't know what he's thinking. I think he's gone mad from sitting in his office all day."

My good friend on the other end of the phone burst into laughter.

"Relax, Andrew," the voice on the other end said. "This is good news for you."

"At the very least, the other party cannot pose a threat to you. If you crush them, your chances of signing the contract will be much greater."

Goodlock paused for a moment, then realized what was happening.

Yes.

If this yellow-skinned guy is your competitor.

In this competition, he seems to have won.

At least, that's what Goodlock thought.

A smug smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

...

On the Ford in front.

Lin Fei sat in the passenger seat, quietly watching the scenery outside the window.

The buildings on both sides of the street receded rapidly.

Chinese signs, a Chinese supermarket, Mexicans selling fruit at roadside stalls.

He appeared calm on the surface.

But I was far from calm inside.

For a long time, all his tryout applications to other teams were rejected.

Not a single one.

It's not that he's not good enough.

Rather, no one was willing to give a yellow-skinned, undrafted, and unprofessional amateur player a chance.

This time, the Lakers' scouts came in person.

This represents opportunity.

His chance.

Lin Fei's fingers tightened slightly.

He wanted to seize this opportunity.

He gave it his all to get into the NBA.

We absolutely cannot let this opportunity slip by.

The vehicle quickly stopped in front of an open-air basketball court.

The basketball court was surrounded by barbed wire, some parts of which were rusted, and others had large holes cut into them so that people could crawl through.

The site is made of cement, with cracks in some places and weeds growing on it.

The net of the basketball hoop is long gone, leaving only the bare metal rim.

Inside, a group of Black players wearing white tank tops and shorts were playing pickup basketball.

Shouts, the sound of slapping the ball, and complaints about fouls could be heard from a great distance.

In fact, despite its dire economic situation, Alhambra has quite a few basketball courts.

Almost every community has it.

But this basketball court is definitely the most popular one in the area.

It has a good location, right on the main road, with a lot of pedestrian traffic.

In addition, there are regular streetball tournaments organized by the public, with low prize money but great fame.

Marcus got out of the car and walked to the sidelines to talk to the young black men who were playing pickup basketball.

"Hey guys, can I borrow half of this space?"

Marcus patted a Black man on the shoulder: "It'll only take half an hour. When you're done, I'll treat everyone to soda."

The group of young Black men glanced at him but ignored him.

Being interrupted halfway through a pickup game is something no one would be happy about.

"Lin will be playing a match here later."

Marcus added, "Shadow."

"shadow?"

Several young Black men had excited expressions on their faces.

They exchanged glances, then huddled together and whispered a few words to each other.

"OK!"

A young Black man who seemed to be leading the group waved his hand and said, "The field is yours!"

They packed up their things quickly and efficiently, giving up half of the court.

Then one by one they quickly squatted down by the sidelines, found a good spot to sit on the ground, and waited to watch the show.

Recently, the name Lin Fei has become a household name in the Alhambra baseball scene.

It all started about two weeks ago.

Two weeks ago, Lin Fei came to this basketball court.

He launched an activity in an extremely high-profile and arrogant manner.

The activity was very simple.

One-on-one, ten rounds.

Anyone who can score five goals in ten rounds while being defended by Lin Fei will be considered to have succeeded in the challenge.

The challenge was successful, and he took two hundred dollars from Lin Fei.

Two hundred dollars, not a lot, not a little.

But for these Black children from the slums, this is already a considerable income.

Moreover, earning this money requires no labor and no breaking of the law.

All they need to do is use their favorite basketball to beat the opponent.

The event caused a sensation in the local baseball community as soon as it was launched.

A large number of streetball players came from far and wide, lining up to challenge him.

Those who fail the challenge will need to pay Lin Fei a registration fee of ten dollars.

Ten dollars for a chance to challenge two hundred dollars—it's a win-win situation no matter how you look at it.

Therefore, the event became incredibly popular locally.

Every day, countless skilled players come to this court to prepare for a one-on-one match with Lin Fei.

But what no one expected was...

Half a month has passed.

All of the well-known streetball players in the area lost to Lin Fei.

Within ten rounds, no one could score five goals over Lin Fei.

The guy with the best record only scored three goals.

Moreover, he was still shooting three-pointers from the outside, purely relying on his shooting touch.

Because of Lin Fei's defense, they had no way to score at the basket except by forcing three-pointers.

This person's defense is like a wall.

It's more like a shadow.

Wherever you go, he follows.

You can't shake them off, you can't get rid of them.

You change direction, but he moves sideways faster than you.

You speed up, and he can keep up.

You bump into him with your body, but he doesn't budge.

As the one-on-one challenge spread more and more widely online, Lin Fei gained considerable fame in the local area.

But what truly earned him the respect of streetball players was that game a week ago.

A week ago, a streetball pro from New York challenged Lin Fei.

That guy's name was Devon Washington, nicknamed "Lightning".

Devon Washington was no ordinary man.

He was a nationally renowned four-star high school student and graduated from a famous basketball high school in New York.

He received a full scholarship to university and entered a prestigious university in the Big East Alliance.

He became a starter in his freshman season, averaging 15 points per game, and was in the spotlight.

He was definitely destined for the NBA.

As a result, in his junior year of college, he suffered a serious knee injury.

Tortured cruciate ligament.

After more than a year of recuperation from his injury, his condition plummeted.

He went unnoticed at the draft and was unfortunately not selected.

He later played in the Development League for two years and also spent a few years in overseas leagues.

He eventually returned to the United States and became a streetball player, making money by shooting videos.

He made a name for himself at Rucker Park, the most famous streetball mecca in the United States.

With nearly a million followers across the internet, he's considered a big influencer in the streetball community.

During this Los Angeles tour, I heard that a player from the Alhambra had emerged with incredible defensive skills, and I was immediately unconvinced.

They issued a direct challenge.

That one-on-one match attracted the attention of the entire city's amateur basketball community.

Everyone wanted to see if Lin Fei, who was invincible in the Alhambra, could continue his undefeated legend when facing a challenger from New York.

result.

After the match started, Devin Lightning Washington struggled quite a bit against Lin Fei's defense.

Although he is a semi-professional player with experience in NCAAD1 and has played in the Development League.

But he still couldn't shake off Lin Fei's defense.

Like most people, he could only shoot from the outside.

After ten rounds, only three goals were scored.

Three goals, although equaling Lin Fei's best record since starting this event, still represent a failed challenge.

Devon Washington dejectedly handed over ten dollars and bowed his head in defeat.

After that game, Lin Fei's fame gradually spread from Alhambra to the whole of Los Angeles, and even became known throughout the American streetball scene.

At the very least, most well-known streetball players in the United States know who the Shadow is.

Everyone knows about that lightning bolt from New York who failed in his challenge.

That's why these young black men excitedly gave up the court when they learned that Lin Fei would be playing there later.

And they were all very curious.

Who will be competing against Lin Fei this time?

After all, since that New York streetball pro lost, very few people have wanted to challenge Lin Fei.

Most of them were outsiders who didn't care about ten dollars and just wanted to test their skills against Lin Fei to see how big the gap really was.

True streetball masters cherish their reputation.

Without absolute certainty of victory, none of them wanted to become stepping stones for Lin Fei to become the All-American Streetball King.

Just then, Lin Fei got out of the car.

Andrew Goodlock, who was following behind, also got out of the car.

The two walked onto the court one after the other.

Little West did not get off the bus.

He sat in the back of the car, rolled down the window, ready to watch the game.

In fact, in West's eyes, there was not much difference between Andrew Goodlock and Lin Fei.

One is a fringe player who can't even find his place in the NBA.

One is a leftover talent preparing to make his way into the NBA.

For Jerry West, who has worked for the Lakers for ten years, these two players are just so-so.

He was already thinking about what reason he could give Marcus after watching the game so he could hurry back to Los Angeles.

...

Gudlock frowned as he walked onto the pitch.

Cement floor.

There was trash scattered around the field.

The air was filled with the stench of sweat and garbage.

He gave a look of disgust.

"If the player you recommend wants to challenge me next time, could you perhaps choose a better venue?"

Goodluck snapped at Marcus, who was standing nearby, "It should at least be an indoor basketball court, right? Look at this place, it's absolutely awful. It smells worse than the garbage dump in my backyard."

After saying that, he fanned his nose with his hand in disgust.

This action angered the group of young black men on the sidelines.

They all come from the slums, and this sports field is where they spend their days; it's their sacred place.

Hearing that this guy dared to look down on their stadium, they all stood up and shouted insults at Gudlock.

"What the hell did you say?"

"If you don't want to fight, then get lost!"

"What are you pretending to be, an NBA star? Who even knows you?"

A few hot-tempered young men walked straight towards them.

Marcus reacted quickly and stopped them.

"Hey, hey, calm down, guys."

Marcus spread his arms, blocking the way: "He's just being sarcastic, he didn't mean anything by it. Give me some face, give me some face."

If they don't stop it, a brawl might break out.

After all, the area is quite unsafe.

Even if Goodlock got beaten up, calling the police afterwards wouldn't have made much difference.

Violence occurs almost daily in this place.

Even the police don't bother with it.

They sometimes won't respond to calls unless someone dies.

Marcus had to go to great lengths to persuade the group of unhappy young black men to go back.

He walked over to Goodlock and lowered his voice.

"If you want to get out of here alive," Marcus said, "you'd better learn to shut your mouth."

Goodlock remained silent.

He regretted it a little when he saw four or five young black men walking towards him.

Although he is now somewhat of a public figure, having played for the Lakers and having the nickname "Mini Mamba".

But he's hardly a big shot.

If he really gets beaten up, no one will stand up for him.

He had no choice but to swallow his anger.

But in his heart, he had already cursed those poor bastards to the core.

...

Andrew Goodlock.

During his university years, he attended Charleston College.

In his freshman season, he was selected to the Southern Conference All-Freshman Team.

In his sophomore season, he became the third player in Charleston College history to score over 1,000 points after two years of college play.

He was also selected for the All-NBA First Team.

In his junior year, he averaged 19.4 points per game, ranking 37th in the nation.

At the end of the season, he became the team's all-time leading scorer since entering Division I with a total of 1694 points.

In the 2011 NBA draft, he was selected by the Los Angeles Lakers in the second round with the 46th overall pick.

Los Angeles fans gave him a nickname: Mini Mamba.

Because he is not tall, only 1.91 meters, but he has a strong scoring ability and his playing style is somewhat similar to Kobe's.

But it's a pity.

Goodluck's ability is not enough to support him in the NBA.

Their scoring is decent, but their defense is terrible.

He's not tall enough, has an average wingspan, and isn't good at physical confrontations.

In NBA-level competition, his defense is a sitting duck.

He was waived by the Lakers last October.

He then played in the Development League.

He played exceptionally well in the Development League.

He is currently ranked first in the MVP rankings in the Development League, averaging 21.4 points per game.

Recently, the Lakers have been plagued by injuries, leaving them short of guards.

Goodluck has been given a chance to return to the Lakers.

Or rather, a trial opportunity.

Just then, Marcus recommended Lin Fei to West.

Little West decided to put the two of them together for an assessment.

And that's how this happened today.

Lin Fei was warming up on the sidelines at that moment.

Leg presses, stretches, and wrist and ankle exercises.

The movements were slow and steady.

Goodlock stood to the side, looking impatient.

"How long are you going to keep this heat going?"

He urged, "Hurry up, don't waste my time."

Clearly, Goodlock didn't consider Lin Fei his opponent at all.

Lin Fei ignored his urging.

He only took the basketball from Marcus after completing all the warm-up exercises.

He then threw the basketball to Gudlock.

"Ten rounds."

Lin Fei said, "If you can score five goals over me, you win, and I'll give you two hundred dollars."

"If you can't score five goals in ten rounds."

Lin Fei paused.

"Pay me ten dollars."

Upon hearing this rule, Goodlock was so angry he laughed.

He is, after all, a professional player who actually signed a contract with the Lakers and played games.

Not long ago in the Development League, he scored 45 points and even hit a game-winning three-pointer.

A player who came from a streetball background?

Isn't it a piece of cake?

Is it difficult to score five goals in ten rounds?

According to Gudlock, if he doesn't score eight goals in ten rounds, he's considered to be underperforming.

To demonstrate his arrogance, Goodlock pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket and casually threw it at Lin Fei's feet.

"Although I don't think I'll lose," Goodlock said with a smirk, "it's only ten dollars, consider it a reward. Consider it compensation for your emotional distress if you lose the game later."

He adopted a condescending attitude.

Lin Fei simply smiled when he saw his arrogant demeanor.

He didn't pick up the money from the ground.

Instead, he whistled at one of the young black men watching from the sidelines.

"Bauer!"

Lin Fei shouted, "Take the money, we'll go buy drinks with the brothers later."

A young Black man wearing flip-flops immediately ran in with a big smile on his face.

He picked up the ten dollars at Lin Fei's feet and waved it at Goodlock.

"Brother, you have the self-awareness."

"Knowing I was going to lose, I paid in advance," Bauer said sarcastically, waving the banknotes in his hand.

"Thank you on behalf of my brothers!"

"Ha ha ha ha."

This remark drew laughter from the other spectators on the sidelines.

Bauer, clutching the money, quickly ran back to the sidelines.

Goodlock, who was preparing to take the opportunity to show off, suddenly looked ugly.

He cursed under his breath.

...

The match has begun.

Goodlock seemed to be furious and intended to teach Lin Fei a lesson.

He played with nothing to his name for the first ball.

Lower your center of gravity, accelerate at full speed, and drive towards the basket.

He is very fast.

After all, he's an NBA player, so he still has explosive power in his first step.

But Lin Fei reacted even faster.

Almost at the same moment that Goodlock started, Lin Fei moved to the side and blocked his way.

The moment their bodies collided.

"Bang!"

A muffled thud.

Goodlock felt as if he had crashed into a wall.

His movements faltered, disrupting his dribbling rhythm.

He was suddenly startled.

This guy's physical strength is that strong?

In those few tenths of a second when he was stunned.

Lin Fei reached out and precisely sliced ​​the ball.

"Snapped!"

The ball slipped out of Gudlock's control and flew out of bounds.

The first goal.

Steal.

Sitting in the car, West saw this and nodded secretly.

"Good defense," he muttered.

Goodlock stood there, clearly not yet realizing what had just happened.

His full-speed breakthrough was intercepted?

He took a deep breath and said in a deliberately casual tone, "Not bad, kid. I underestimated you."

"But I was just warming up."

Goodlock curled his lip: "Now, I'm going to get serious."

He believed he must have been careless just now.

That's definitely the case.

The second goal.

Goodlock clearly became more serious.

He performed two consecutive front crossovers with a very fast change in rhythm.

Suddenly accelerate and break through on the right flank.

At the same time, he lowered his shoulders and deliberately bumped into Lin Fei.

He planned to use his body to push past the opponent and force his way into the basket.

After all, he weighed 200 pounds.

He's considered strong for a guard.

but,

Lin Fei had no intention of confronting him directly.

He turned slightly to the side and pressed himself against her.

Like a plaster.

Goodlock darted to the left, and Lin Fei followed suit to the left.

As Goodlock shifted to the right, Lin Fei followed suit and moved his feet to the right as well.

Moreover, Lin Fei's speed was even faster than Goodlock's.

Under close marking, Gudlock had no space to shoot.

He was guarded all the way to the basket and was eventually forced to collect the ball.

There was no space for a jump shot, and no angle for a layup.

Goodlock had no choice but to force a turn and launch an extremely difficult fadeaway jump shot.

The basketball leaves the palm.

A large hand slapped at me from the side.

"Snapped!"

A solid block, like a volleyball.

The basketball was swatted out of bounds.

The second goal.

Cap.

The ball was swatted directly into the hands of the group of young black men on the sidelines.

I defended for two consecutive rounds.

The sidelines erupted.

"Ooh ooh ooh!"

"Awesome! The shadow is awesome!"

"What the hell is this called? This is called defense!"

Some people even shouted sarcastic remarks at Gudlock on the field.

"You've attacked twice already! Get back inside!"

"This isn't a place where you can run wild!"

A group of people burst into laughter and threw the ball back onto the field.

Hearing these mocking remarks, Goodlock's face turned even uglier.

Because he didn't hold back in that last round.

If he had been dispossessed the first time, he would have thought it was because he was careless.

That block just now made him realize something profound.

The seemingly harmless yellow-skinned boy in front of me has extremely strong defensive abilities.

The defensive pressure he faced was much stronger than when he played in the G League.

How is that possible?

A pickup player?

Lin Fei picked up the ball and threw it back to Goodlock.

At the same time, he made an eight gesture with his fingers.

You have eight more chances.

Lin Fei said calmly, "I hope you don't get shut out by me today. If you do, I'll be very disappointed in you."

Goodlock was starting to panic.

But on the surface, he still pretended to be calm and made tough remarks.

"Kid, if this were a proper basketball court, I would have already crushed you."

Goodlock practically ground his teeth to powder: "If it weren't for this lousy concrete floor affecting my performance, do you think you could keep up with my speed?"

Lin Fei did not respond to these words.

He just looked at Goodlock with a smile.

I just watched him show off.

That look clearly stung Goodlock's pride.

The occasional whispers and laughter from the surrounding audience made him feel very embarrassed.

the most important is.

Little West was watching the duel between the two from inside the car.

I was devastated when my defense was blocked for two consecutive rounds.

This is a crucial tryout for his return to the Lakers!

The third attack.

Goodlock played with extreme caution.

He no longer drives to the basket.

He had already given it his all in the first two breakthroughs.

But he still couldn't get past Lin Fei's defense.

Rushing any further in was purely to find a hat.

He made a series of fake moves outside the three-point line, dribbling between his legs, behind his back, and changing direction.

The movements were beautiful and flashy.

But Lin Fei wasn't fooled.

His steps were as steady as a rock, his arms outstretched, always maintaining the most suitable defensive distance.

Goodlock wandered around for a long time but couldn't find a single opportunity.

In the end, he had no choice but to shoot three-pointers from the outside.

Forced investment.

Lin Fei reacted immediately and jumped to block the shot.

Although he didn't touch the basketball, his timely jump provided enough interference.

"Bang!"

The basketball hit the rim and bounced high into the air.

The third goal.

No.

Another burst of laughter erupted from the sidelines.

Lin Fei picked up the basketball and threw it to Gudelock.

Then he made a seven gesture to him.

"You have seven more chances."

These words, like a deadly curse, sent chills down Goodlock's spine.

He wasn't even in the mood to continue making threats.

In his next two attacks, Gudlock still chose to force his way through.

He doesn't believe in superstitions.

As a professional player, it's impossible for me to not even be able to get past a streetball player.

result.

On his fourth attack, Lin Fei cornered him, and he hastily made a move, only to miss.

On the fifth attack, Lin Fei directly tried to steal the ball. Although he didn't manage to steal it, he disrupted the dribbling rhythm, and Gudelock lost the ball himself.

The first five attacks.

All of them were contained.

...

The back seat inside the car.

Little West sat up straight.

He had been leaning back in his seat, looking around casually.

Now, his attention is completely drawn to the game on the field.

He shook his head.

He started to think about it.

Is it because Goodlock was demoted to the Development League that his performance declined too quickly?

Is this guy named Lin Fei really that strong defensively?

The problem was that he had never heard of such an outstanding defensive specialist in Los Angeles before.

I've never even heard of it.

This unscientific.

Marcus then arrived at West's car.

He peeked through the car window at little West inside with a smug look on his face.

"See that, Ryan?"

Marcus said, "I'm not kidding, this guy is really strong. Even Andrew can't get past him."

Marcus's face was full of excitement.

Today's trial training was very successful.

Even if Lin Fei ultimately fails to become a regular player for the Lakers, this opportunity and challenge is enough to give him a chance to open the door to the NBA.

At that time, my referral fee...

Hey.

But at that moment, West was thinking about another problem.

Can Lin Fei, a player who has never played in the NBA or even the G League, really improve the team's roster depth?

What were his physical test results?

Will the effect of playing the whole game be as good as that of a one-on-one match?

Does his basketball IQ allow him to understand the team's tactical system?

All of this made him hesitate.

Clearly, Lin Fei's defensive plays just now had impressed him.

But the biggest problem is...

One-on-one matches on a streetball court and full-court five-on-five games are two completely different games.

A player who excels in one-on-one situations may not necessarily make the same contribution in team basketball.

He admitted that he had feelings for Lin Fei.

But that's about it.

At the same time, West admitted it to himself.

Lin Fei's defense is the most troublesome I've ever seen.

They not only know how to use their bodies to cause trouble for their opponents.

He also has defensive skills.

On several defensive plays, they anticipated Gudlock's next move and precisely blocked his path of attack.

This made it very difficult for Gudlock to fight.

For a guard like Gudelock, who excels at driving to the basket but not at shooting, this defensive approach is undoubtedly fatal.

Completely absorbed in his surroundings, little West had forgotten to check his phone.

"Buzz! Buzz!"

Until his phone started vibrating violently in his pocket.

He took out his phone and glanced at the message.

Then, his face turned ugly.

The message came from a colleague in the scouting department.

"The boss wants you to come back for a meeting this afternoon."

"Kobe and Dwight are arguing again."

"I've had enough of this damn combination."

West took a deep breath and put his phone away.

His gaze returned to the field.

At this point, the ten rounds of combat had ended.

Gudlock only managed to score two goals under Lin Fei's defense.

Both of these baskets came when Gudelock dared not enter the paint and instead forced three-pointers from the outside.

Or you could say it was obtained by deception.

Goodlock's success rate in this challenge is only 20%.

He's not even as good as that New York streetball star, Devin Lightning Washington.

But West was clearly no longer interested in watching.

He has to go back to a meeting.

Kobe and Howard started arguing again.

It is foreseeable that the Lakers will be in complete chaos.

He took a deep breath.

Then he rolled the car window all the way down and waved to Marcus outside.

"Man, I might have to go back to the team first," West said. "There are some things I need to take care of."

Marcus was clearly getting anxious when he heard this.

"So, what were the results of this trial?"

He quickly asked, "You saw Lin's performance; he was truly outstanding. Shouldn't you give him a chance?"

Under normal circumstances, Little West would indeed further investigate Lin Fei.

For example, take him back to the Lakers headquarters.

Let more people see this outstanding talent, and consider whether it's worth signing him.

But now.

The Lakers are in complete chaos.

The team's top player and second-in-command got into an argument.

Head coach Mike D'Antoni's control over the locker room is getting weaker and weaker.

Everyone in every department was on edge because of the internal power struggle between Kobe and Howard.

In this situation, if he brings back a grassroots player who came from a streetball court.

He didn't know if he would get a trial opportunity.

But I reckon I'm going to get a real dressing down from the head of the scouting department.

Even if his father is Jerry West, it still sounds absurd.

West Jr. ignored Marcus's pleas.

"Dude, I really have to go back," he repeated. "I have something very important to take care of."

He pushed open the car door and got out.

Then he called Goodlock over to his side.

Little West whispered a few words in Goodlock's ear.

I don't know what was said.

But Goodlock's unpleasant expression had clearly improved considerably.

It seems they received some kind of promise.

This young man who made Goodlock look so bad today.

Little West no longer cares about him.

But Lin Fei's defense left a deep impression on him.

Before leaving, he walked up to Lin Fei.

Little West took a notepad out of his briefcase and tore off a page.

He wrote down a phone number on it.

Then he handed the note to Lin Fei.

"There's something important going on with the team that requires me to go back," West said. "You played well today and impressed me."

"So I've decided to give you a real tryout opportunity."

"As for the outcome..."

Little West stared into Lin Fei's eyes.

"It all depends on whether you can pass the test."

Lin Fei took the note and glanced at it.

Above is a handwritten phone number, written neatly.

He put the note into his jacket pocket.

Then he smiled gently at Little West.

"Thank you, Mr. West."

Lin Fei said, "I hope we'll have the opportunity to meet at Staples Center in the future."

Upon hearing this, West simply smiled and did not respond.

If the two do meet at Staples Center, it means Lin Fei will receive a formal contract from the Lakers.

of course.

The Clippers are also an option.

However, in West's opinion...

Lin Fei's defense was indeed very oppressive.

But the probability of such a thing actually happening is still extremely low.

Little West got back into the car.

He drove himself away from the place.

Before leaving, Goodlock glared fiercely at Lin Fei.

His eyes were filled with resentment and bitterness.

Then he got into his car, stepped on the gas, and drove off.

Until both cars disappeared at the end of the street.

The young Black men who had been watching the spectacle suddenly swarmed over.

"Wow, Shadow's awesome!"

"Who's that guy? He looks pretty tough, but you've managed to defend against him like this?"

"I knew you'd win!"

They cheered loudly and started making a ruckus.

Lin Fei hugged each of them and patted them on the shoulder.

Then, he and Marcus left the stadium together.

"I'm going back to the restaurant," Lin Fei said. "There's still work to be done there."

"I'll take you," Marcus said.

Clearly, he had something to say to Lin Fei.

The restaurant is not far from the stadium.

The two walked back directly.

...

In January, the afternoon sun in Los Angeles feels warm and pleasant.

"I got a trial opportunity," Lin Fei said first.

He took the note with the phone number on it out of his pocket and handed it to Marcus.

Marcus took the note and stared at the phone number for a long time.

Then he suddenly raised his head, his face full of excitement.

"That's awesome, Lin!"

Marcus exclaimed excitedly, "I knew it! I knew you could do it! It seems our efforts weren't in vain!"

He gestured wildly, like a child.

"You absolutely must train hard during this time, you hear me?" Marcus said seriously. "Seize this opportunity and knock on the door of the NBA. Stop hanging out with those shady friends and stop going to bars every night to pick up girls."

"When shouldn't you have sex with a woman?"

"Once you get into the NBA, what kind of woman won't you be able to find?"

"Also, stop betting on black balls."

"Even though you win every time, what if you run into a tough guy one day and they break your legs? It's not worth it!"

"And there's more—"

Marcus kept talking.

Lin Fei rolled his eyes at the sound of it.

"Alright, alright, I know," Lin Fei interrupted him. "You're even more long-winded than my aunt."

The two walked and talked.

As they walked, Marcus suddenly looked at Lin Fei with a serious expression.

"Lin," he said, "if you really make it to the NBA,"

"But don't forget, this is the opportunity I introduced to you."

Marcus rubbed his hands together, looking a little embarrassed, but his eyes were full of anticipation.

"When the time comes, you'll have to give me 10% of the contract as a referral fee."

He paused, then began to complain.

"You have no idea, Lin."

"I went to great lengths to get Ryan to try out for you and give you the opportunity to contact Lakers scouts."

"I've treated him to drinks countless times."

"How many connections did I pull? How many favors do I owe? You can't even imagine!"

"Let me tell you, I've almost used up all the connections I've built up over the past ten years."

"You must never forget our kindness, Lin!"

Marcus spoke with tears streaming down his face, almost bursting into sobs on the spot.

Lin Fei couldn't help but laugh as he watched Lin Fei's performative personality.

He shrugged.

"certainly."

Lin Fei said, "If I ever make it to the NBA, you will definitely be the biggest contributor."

How could I forget you?

Upon hearing this, Marcus visibly breathed a sigh of relief.

Although no contract was signed between the two.

If Lin Fei changes his mind later, there's nothing he can do.

But after spending time together, he still trusted Lin Fei's character.

Even though he saw this guy as greedy and lustful, not like a decent person.

But I have to admit, this guy does have professional ethics.

Anyway, for Marcus,

He's already living a miserable life.

I'm just one illness away from the kill line.

If Lin Fei can really make it to the NBA, it will definitely be a life-changing opportunity for him.

Even if he fails in the end, he can still get a brokerage fee to continue making a living.

Since life can't get any worse.

Then what is there to be afraid of?

The two arrived at the restaurant intersection.

Marcus said goodbye to Lin Fei.

"Remember to call that phone number when you get back."

Before leaving, Marcus reminded him, "Make sure you perform well for this hard-won trial opportunity, and don't waste it."

"Okay." Lin Fei nodded. "You should go now, stop nagging."

Marcus smiled, turned and left.

Lin Fei stood at the intersection, watching Marcus's figure disappear around the corner.

He reached into his pocket and touched the note.

The paper feels very thin.

But the phone number above it felt incredibly heavy.

Lin Fei took a deep breath.

Then he turned around and walked towards his own restaurant.

A white van was parked outside the restaurant.

A woman wearing an apron was carrying baskets of goods into the store from the back seat of a bread truck.

It contains everyday ingredients: vegetables, meat, and seasonings.

It is obvious that they are unloading cargo.

The woman was probably in her fifties, and the corners of her eyes were already covered with wrinkles.

Her hair was a little gray, tied up at the back of her head.

But he moved very quickly, lifting a basket of vegetables with lightning speed.

This woman's name is Lin Xiuqin.

Lin Fei's biological aunt.

She is also the owner of this restaurant.

Seeing this, Lin Fei quickly walked over.

"Auntie, let me do it."

He walked up to the bread cart and reached out to lift the heaviest basket of potatoes.

When Lin Xiuqin saw him, she glared at him with annoyance.

"Look at the time!" Lin Xiuqin said. "You actually know how to come back? Were you out playing basketball with your buddies again?"

"You always get your clothes so dirty when you go out, and then I have to wash them for you."

"You're never around when we're unloading the cargo."

"You brat, I think you're asking for a beating!"

As she spoke, Lin Xiuqin stepped forward and was about to kick Lin Fei's butt.

Lin Fei dodged it with a slight movement.

He carried a basket of potatoes into the kitchen while responding with a smile.

"Auntie, it's all over the internet, your age is the perfect time to take risks," Lin Fei said. "The more you work, the more you earn. How could I possibly hinder your progress?"

"You little brat!"

Lin Xiuqin laughed angrily and scolded, "You dare to talk back to your aunt? I'll beat you to death!"

Lin Fei laughed loudly amidst Lin Xiuqin's scolding.

He rushed into the kitchen.