The first punch that shocked the basketball world

The equipment room is at the end of the corridor on the first floor.

The assistant knocked on the door and led Lin Fei inside.

Inside sat an elderly man with gray hair, wearing reading glasses, tidying up his jersey.

Gary Vitti.

The Lakers' equipment department manager has worked there for 33 years.

The era of magicians has been around, from Showtime and OK! to the current F4.

The number of players whose jerseys he has distributed is countless.

He's seen many new people come and go.

His face was expressionless.

"The contract." The old man didn't even look up.

Lin Fei handed over the contract.

The old man glanced at it and entered it into the system for record-keeping.

"Which number should we choose?"

He pointed to the jersey diagram on the wall: "Red light means someone wears it, yellow light means it's retired, green light means you can choose anyone."

Lin Fei glanced at it.

Number 9, with the green light on.

"Number 9".

The old man glanced at him, said nothing, and got up to go inside.

About ten minutes later, he came out carrying a set of jerseys.

Two white suits for home games and two purple suits for away games, plus training clothes and warm-up clothes.

"The deposit is two hundred dollars," the old man said. "The jersey is given to the fans, and they have to pay for the replacement themselves."

Lin Fei was not surprised.

This rule also applied to European leagues in my previous life.

Aside from top-tier stars, no one can collect jerseys indefinitely.

He took out two hundred dollars and handed it over.

The old man took the money and handed him a slip of paper.

"Just hand it in at the registration desk next door, and you can leave."

There were no unnecessary words spoken throughout the entire process.

Lin Fei followed the instructions and went to the registration desk next door to submit his materials.

The formalities are now complete.

As he walked out of the players' tunnel, Sofia was already waiting for him.

"How is it?" she asked, leaning closer.

Lin Fei picked up the bag of jerseys in his hand and shook it at her.

"Done. Number 9."

Sofia's eyes lit up.

The two chatted and laughed as they walked toward the parking lot.

Sunlight streamed down, falling on the streets of Los Angeles.

Lin Fei looked down at the jersey in his hand.

Purple-gold color, number 9.

The place where dreams begin.

Early the next morning.

After running ten kilometers, Lin Fei went home and had breakfast with his aunt and uncle.

I didn't mention signing the contract, afraid they'd get too excited.

He only said he was going to Boston on a business trip and would be away for a few days.

Lin Xiuqin kept stuffing food into his bag and kept reminding him to be careful.

Lin Fei smiled and agreed.

After breakfast, he drove his old Buick straight to Staples Center.

At 8:00 AM sharp, the players arrived one after another.

Kobe, Nash, Gasol... faces I'd only ever seen on TV were right in front of me.

Nobody greeted him.

Most people just glanced at it, paused slightly when they saw that it was an Asian face, and then looked away.

Exactly the same as when I first joined the Defenders.

As a newcomer, nobody cares.

After D'Antoni arrived, he took the initiative to say a few words to Lin Fei before going to discuss tactics with his assistant coach.

Lin Fei was warming up alone on the sidelines.

I feel a little lonely.

A short while later, Nash walked over.

"Hey kid," he greeted with a smile, "Which Asian country are you from?"

"China."

"China." Nash nodded, a look of interest on his face. "No wonder he chose number 9. I remember the last Chinese player to wear number 9 for the Lakers was lucky."

Lin Fei smiled.

The two stood on the sidelines, chatting idly.

Nash has a great personality; he's gentle and funny.

In the twilight of his career, his physical condition declined, but his temper became more amiable than when he was younger.

He probably noticed that Lin Fei was feeling awkward, so he came over to strike up a conversation.

Lin Fei remembered this favor.

At 9:30, the whole team assembled.

D'Antoni gave a brief overview of the training content.

Each person was divided into different groups based on their position and technical skills.

Lin Fei was assigned to a group with shooting coach Chuck Persson.

Persson, a former NBA sharpshooter, dedicated himself to shooting training after retiring and worked for the Lakers for almost eight years.

He helped Kobe adjust his shooting rhythm back then.

"Little guy."

Persson walked over with a smile: "Feel free to ask me anything, this is a rare opportunity."

His tone was quite friendly, but he didn't seem to take it too seriously.

Nine out of ten players on short-term contracts will not be retained.

I'll lend a hand if I can.

Lin Fei looked up, his face serious.

"If I play tonight, I'll probably be matched up against Paul Pierce. Any advice?"

Persson paused for a moment.

He then burst into laughter, slapping his thigh and unable to straighten up.

Several people around looked over.

It wasn't until D'Antoni turned his gaze that Persson coughed twice and stopped laughing.

"You're quite humorous," he said, suppressing a laugh. "Really want to stop Paul? Simple, just break his legs, then he won't be able to jump anymore."

Lin Fei sighed.

"I'm serious, buddy."

Persson shrugged, seeing that he really wasn't joking.

"Alright, although I think you most likely don't have that chance," he said seriously. "Remember three things."

"First, don't fall for his feints. He uses more feints than real moves, so if you jump, you'll be committing a foul."

"Second, stick close to his turnaround jump shot. He has good rhythm, and if you give him a little space, he can make the shot. It's better to let him drive than to let him shoot comfortably."

"Third, he prefers to go to the right, as the left side is the weak side. Our defensive positioning is slightly to the right, forcing him to move to the left."

After saying that, Persson thought for a moment and added another sentence.

"Once you're on the court, don't be greedy for credit. Focus on defense, minimize mistakes, and don't run off on random plays." He patted Lin Fei's arm. "The coach hates rookies who act on their own initiative the most. Doing your job well is more important than anything else."

These are all experiences shared by people who have been through it.

Lin Fei nodded.

"Thanks, Chuck."

"polite."

For the next hour, Persson accompanied Lin Fei as he practiced shooting.

Lin Fei's fighting style was already set in stone and couldn't be changed.

Persson didn't give any random instructions; he just helped retrieve the ball and occasionally offered some minor tips.

With professional trainers feeding me the ball, I quickly regained my feel for it.

He hit basket after basket of three-pointers, with a shooting percentage consistently above 80%.

Persson watched and nodded secretly.

This shooting consistency is not what you'd expect from a ten-day contract.

At 10:30, the whole team went to the restaurant for a pre-match meal.

At 2 PM, the bus departed for the airport on time.

On the plane, Lin Fei finally met Dwight Howard.

His shoulder injury hadn't healed, so he wouldn't be playing, but he still traveled with the team.

Howard recognized Lin Fei at a glance.

He pointed at Lin Fei with an exaggerated expression.

"Hey! Kid! I know you!" he boomed. "The Defenders, right? You even asked me for your autograph before!"

Several players around looked over.

Lin Fei walked over and sat down next to him.

"You have a good memory." Lin Fei smiled. "But that was before. Now I'm a Lakers player too."

Howard looked him up and down, marveling at him.

"Not bad, bro!" He patted Lin Fei on the shoulder. "You came up from the Development League? You must be pretty good."

The two sat together and began to talk in hushed tones.

Lin Fei said something interesting, which made Howard laugh out loud.

He was bending over backwards.

The other players, seeing this, all looked somewhat surprised.

This new ten-day temporary worker, is he on such good terms with Howard?

No one spoke, but their eyes changed.

The plane landed in Boston.

The players disembarked from the plane one by one.

The accompanying staff member came over and took the bag from Lin Fei's hand.

"Mr. Lin, let me help you with that."

Several fringe players who had been watching coldly just moments before also came over to chat.

"Hey bro, where did you used to play basketball?"

"First time in Boston? Want to hang out tonight?"

Their attitudes before and after were completely different.

Lin Fei responded with a smile.

But he knew perfectly well what was going on in his mind.

Human relationships and social dynamics are the same everywhere.

He and Howard weren't actually that close.

But in other people's eyes, they just have a good relationship.

This attempt to intimidate others by borrowing their power was surprisingly effective.