The first punch that shocked the basketball world

4 p.m., outside Staples Center.

Lin Fei got off the bus and looked up at the iconic giant poster.

Compared to the dilapidated Alhambra, this place is like another world.

The streets were clean and crowded with people. Huge posters of star players stood on the roadside, and you could feel the heat of the stadium even half a block away.

Across the intersection, Sofia waved to him.

She was wearing a dark jacket and carrying a camera bag, dressed like a typical journalist.

Congratulations on signing the contract.

As Lin Fei approached, she smiled and handed him a work ID: "Come on, let's go through the employee entrance, so we don't have to queue."

Lin Fei followed her around to the side door.

The Defenders are part of the Lakers system, and the reporters who travel with the team are considered internal staff, so it's not difficult for them to bring someone through the staff entrance.

Regular fans have to wait an hour and a half before the game starts to enter, while these fans can enter three hours in advance.

Walking through the corridor, it wasn't quite what I had imagined.

The walls were yellowed, and paper cups and flyers were scattered on the floor. A faint smell of sweat and cleaning agents filled the air.

Even with daily cleaning, the sheer number of people makes it impossible to keep up.

After passing through two security checks and turning a corner, the view suddenly opened up before me.

The purple and gold-colored seats are laid out in layers, and the central floor is so shiny it reflects light.

Sofia's ticket was in the second row, right next to the players' tunnel.

Excellent view.

"This seat is fine." Lin Fei sat down; the seat was a bit cold.

This was the first time he had been so close to an NBA court.

In my previous life, I played professionally in Europe for many years. In terms of influence and exposure, it was not even in the same league as the NBA.

Sitting here, every move you make is under the camera's lens.

A single sphere of light can be played repeatedly around the world.

He leaned back in his chair and began to imagine himself wearing a Lakers jersey and standing on the court.

"You sit down first, I'll go take a walk around the sidelines." Sofia patted him on the shoulder, picked up her camera and walked towards the media area, "to see if I can get a couple of interviews."

There are still more than two hours until the start of the game.

The sidelines were already packed with reporters, their cameras and microphones lined up in a row.

Competition is equally fierce in the NBA reporting world.

Only a handful of major media outlets can get exclusive interviews with Kobe and Howard; others can only scrape by and ask role players a couple of questions.

Sofia, a journalist from a development alliance, doesn't even have the right to squeeze into the front row.

People started coming out to warm up.

Kobe and Nash arrived first.

Surrounded by reporters, Kobe remained expressionless, continuing to shoot mid-range shots without even glancing to the side.

The aura that keeps strangers at bay can be felt even from halfway across the arena.

Nash was in a better mood; he stopped and chatted briefly with a few reporters in the front row, a smile on his face.

Lin Fei took out his phone and recorded a video of Kobe shooting a basketball.

The movements are fluid, the release point is high, and the rhythm is smooth.

The first five shots all hit.

He stared at Kobe's figure.

Tall and sturdy.

Every muscle seems designed to score.

Lin Fei couldn't help but mentally compare himself to the benchmark.

If you were in your past life, wanting to guard Kobe Bryant one-on-one would be pure fantasy.

The gap is too big.

But things are different now.

The souls of two lifetimes merged, resulting in maximum physical talent.

He's confident he could go toe-to-toe with Kobe for several rounds if they really faced off.

At least, it won't be easily crushed.

Five minutes later, Sofia returned.

"How's the spot? Not bad, right?" She sat down and turned on her bottle of mineral water.

"That's quite good," Lin Fei laughed. "If it were me, I wouldn't be willing to buy such an expensive ticket."

Sofia proudly raised her chin.

"So you have to work hard," she said, "and try to play on this court someday."

"Thank you for your kind words."

"By the way," Lin Fei tilted his head, "did you manage to get a glimpse of Steve Nash's interview earlier?"

Sofia shrugged, looking helpless.

"At my level, I can't squeeze to the front," she said. "I just took a couple of photos on the outside, and I'll just add a text message when I get back."

Lin Fei didn't say anything.

He understands.

Sofia, like him, was at the bottom of the pyramid.

The NBA players I usually come into contact with are mostly fringe players like Morris who have been relegated to the bottom of the league.

She wouldn't even have the right to talk to someone of Nash or Kobe's caliber.

The two chatted for a while longer.

Gasol and Artest entered the court one after another to warm up.

Howard was the only one missing.

"Dwight hasn't arrived yet?" Lin Fei asked casually.

Sofia scoffed.

"He's lucky if he's not late," she said. "You expect him to warm up two hours early?"

Lin Fei smiled.

At this time, Howard was still the "Happy Beast."

Their training attitude was lax, and being late or leaving early was commonplace.

Being able to arrive on time is already considered being dedicated.

Forty minutes before the start of the game, there was a commotion at the players' tunnel.

Howard is finally out.

Even from a distance, you could feel the oppressive presence of that body.

His shoulders were exaggeratedly broad, and his arm muscles were bulging. Standing in the inside, he looked like a moving wall.

Watching it on TV and watching it live are two completely different things.

No wonder he won the Defensive Player of the Year award three times.

This physical talent is historic.

He didn't team up with Kobe; he brought his own trainer and practiced hook shots and floaters under the basket.

The ball's feel was noticeably off, and it bounced off the rim several times in a row.

He didn't have a smile on his face and looked like he was in a bad mood.

As Lin Fei was looking around, a waiter carrying a tray walked over from the aisle next to him.

A young white man in his early twenties had a tray piled high with hamburgers and cola.

There was some spilled drink on the ground, so it was a bit slippery.

The young man wasn't paying attention, his foot slipped, and he fell forward.

"Be careful!"

Lin Fei reacted quickly, stood up and stepped forward, steadily supporting the tray with one hand and holding the young man's arm with the other.

The plate didn't tip over, and the person didn't fall.

"Th...thank you!"

The young man's face turned pale, still shaken: "The ground was too slippery, I almost caused a huge disaster."

"fine."

Lin Fei handed the tray back: "Take your time."

This commotion attracted several glances from the audience.

Howard had just missed a shot and glanced over when he heard the sound.

I spotted Lin Fei at a glance.

The main reason was that Lin Fei's Defenders number 9 jersey was too conspicuous among the front-row spectators.

Howard raised an eyebrow.

When did the Development League start having Asian players?

He glanced at it a couple more times, but didn't take it to heart.

It was just a minor incident.

For a star of his caliber, there's not much difference between G League players and ordinary fans.

He looked away and continued practicing free throws.

Nobody knew that Lin Fei had specially worn this jersey today.

It's a gamble to see if you can get on camera.

Getting a chance to promote the team is like getting free publicity, letting more people know that the Defenders have a Chinese wing player.

Even if you don't manage to get a free ride, it's not a big loss.

It's a little trick, but it works.

...

Howard was practicing, but he certainly wasn't in a good mood.

the reason is simple.

Last summer, Kobe personally recruited him.

He gave up his position as the Magic's leader and came to the Lakers, hoping to replicate the OK combination, win a few championships, and solidify his position as the league's best center.

When the time came, it turned out that it wasn't like that at all.

Kobe played too selfishly.

He struggles to establish position inside, and the ball just won't come through.

He averaged three fewer field goal attempts per game than he did with the Magic, and his scoring dropped by three points.

That's fine.

What he couldn't stand the most was Kobe's meddling.

If you slack off in training, you get yelled at; if you lose focus on defense, you get yelled at; even if you choose the wrong shot under the basket, you get yelled at.

When he was the leader of the Magic, who dared to say that about him?

He wanted to play fun basketball, while Kobe wanted to win at all costs.

We simply couldn't connect.

Coupled with the team's terrible record, ranking seventh in the Western Conference and having just ended a four-game losing streak, they could fall out of the playoffs at any time.

Winning can mask all the contradictions.

When you lose, all sorts of problems come to mind.

The relationship between the two became increasingly strained.

The match started quickly.

The opponent is the Houston Rockets.

The two teams are tied in the standings, with the Lakers in seventh place and the Rockets in eighth.

A standard positioning battle.

Whoever loses drops to eighth place.

On the first possession of the game, Kobe faced Harden and hit a mid-range pull-up jumper.

The ball went in cleanly.

Cheers erupted from the crowd.

The intensity of the competition was higher than expected.

Lin Fei is no longer just a viewer.

He watched every possession closely, analyzing the Lakers' movement, screen timing, and defensive rotations.

You'll unconsciously empathize with it.

If I were on the field, how would I defend against this ball?

How do you execute this tactic?

The first quarter was fast-paced.

The Lakers relied on the individual abilities of their star players to consistently dominate the Rockets.

However, the lead remained narrow.

The reason is simple: Chandler Parsons exploded.

He faced Artest, broke through with one step, caught the ball and made the shot.

He scored 12 points in the first quarter, even more than Harden.

Parsons is on the rise this season, with a shooting percentage close to 50%, and he can both score and pass.

Artest was ten years older than him, and his lateral movement was no longer up to par.

They were caught off guard and left in a sorry state by the young man.

"Artest's footwork is really slow," Lin Fei muttered to himself. "He's okay at guarding the inside, but he struggles too much at defending the small forward."

He subconsciously compared himself to the benchmark.

If I had been the one guarding Parsons, I definitely wouldn't have been in such a sorry state.

At halftime, the Lakers led by only 3 points.

Parsons scored 21 points in the first half with an incredible shooting percentage.

It was only thanks to Kobe and Howard's hard work that the score wasn't reversed.

Lin Fei glanced at the end of the Lakers' bench.

Andrew Goodlock, dressed casually, sat on the far side.

With the game so close, he probably won't get a chance to play.

He was sitting near the Rockets' bench, and Goodluck didn't notice him.

During halftime, Sofia turned to him and asked.

"How was it? Was watching the NBA up close what I expected?"

"The competition is indeed intense." Lin Fei nodded. "In comparison, the Development League tryouts are like playing house."

Sofia burst out laughing.

"When you type it out later, I'll write an interview and definitely include that sentence."

She couldn't explain why, but she always felt that Lin Fei was more than that.

His performance during the trial that day was outstanding.

The two went to the restroom during the break and bought two buckets of popcorn.

The third quarter had already begun when they returned.

The score became even closer.

McHale's roars from the sidelines could be heard clearly by those in the front row.

The Rockets' playing style is still too predictable.

Harden averages 25.9 points per game and is the absolute core player.

Jeremy Lin is nominally one of the backcourt duo, but he doesn't actually have many touches on the ball.

In positional play, Harden was basically the one attacking with the ball.

Parsons was on fire and took up a lot of shots.

Jeremy Lin is more of a role player.

On the defensive end, he was constantly targeted by Kobe's pick-and-roll, and was shot at several times in a row.

As the game progressed into the fourth quarter, the Lakers gradually widened the gap.

Howard dominates the paint.

Asik couldn't hold him off alone.

He finished with 28 points, 16 rebounds, and 3 blocks.

In the final quarter, he blocked Harden's drive and Asik's alley-oop, effectively sealing the game's fate.

Kobe also scored 32 points, but he had a lot of turnovers, 6 in total.

Nash and Gasol's stats were average, with 7 points and 6 assists, and 12 points and 7 rebounds respectively, which were nothing special.

The final whistle blew.

102:95.

The Lakers won by a narrow margin of 7 points.

The cheers from the crowd were deafening.

The players from both sides shook hands and left the field one after another.

D'Antoni hugged McHale, but there wasn't much of a smile on his face.

We won, but the problems are still there.

With locker room conflicts looming overhead, Artest's defensive gaps remained unfilled.

In the crucial moments of the fourth quarter, he benched Artest and used Earl Clark to play the deciding set.

Clark moved a little faster laterally and could barely keep up with Parsons.

But that's about it.

Clark is 2.08 meters tall, but he is essentially a power forward.

The third position was forced into the role.

There's no other way; we don't have anyone available.

After the game, reporters surrounded Howard.

He played well tonight and was in a good mood, so he stopped to give an interview.

After the interview, he strolled slowly toward the players' tunnel.

Seeing this, Lin Fei grabbed his backpack and went around to the entrance of the passage.

He pulled a Lakers jersey with the number 12 from his bag.

Everything was prepared before we came.

Bring one jersey each from Kobe, Howard, Nash, and Gasol.

Whoever can sign in gets to sign in.

Kobe and the others left early, leaving only Howard to come out last.

Howard approached.

Lin Fei stepped forward and handed over the jersey.

"Dwight! Can I get your autograph? I'm a fan!"

Normally, Howard would most likely ignore it.

I'm in a good mood because we won tonight.

He took the pen and signed his name in a flourish.

Thanks!

Lin Fei laughed and said, "You fought like a shark tonight!"

Howard looked up.

That's when I could see people for who they really are.

It looks familiar.

Oh, that young Chinese guy in the Defenders jersey in the front row just now.

"You're wearing a Defenders jersey?" he asked casually. "From the G League?"

"right."

Lin Fei nodded: "We just signed the contract yesterday."

Howard grunted in agreement and prepared to leave.

He took two steps, then turned back.

"What's your name?"

"Lin Fei".

Howard touched his chin, his expression a little strange.

"Interesting," he muttered. "Are all Chinese basketball players surnamed Lin?"

He was obviously thinking of Jeremy Lin on the other side.

Lin Fei shrugged.

"There's nothing I can do, it's just such a coincidence."

Howard chuckled, waved his hand, and turned to enter the passageway.

Lin Fei held the autographed jersey, in a good mood.

Not only did he get his sister's autograph, but he also became a familiar face to Howard.

Although it's not very useful now, it's still better than a stranger.

This trip was worthwhile.