At the Oklahoma City Thunder training facility, Kevin Durant was locked in. Another three-pointer.
Swish.
Sam Presti watched, nodding. "Listen, Kevin, if you keep this up, I have no doubt—you're gonna be a superstar."
Durant wiped the sweat from his forehead, barely acknowledging the complint. He wasn't here for praise. He was here to work.
At 6'10", Durant wasn't built like LeBron. He wasn't a tank. But his wingspan, skill, and relentless work ethic? That was his edge. His shooting percentage had jumped this season—proof of the grind.
Presti passed him the ball, then grinned. "But hey, even the greats need a break. There's a ga streaming live right now. You should check it out."
Durant glanced over as Presti pulled out his laptop.
"Stephen Curry. Jas Harden. And that Chinese center—people are calling him the next you."
Durant raised an eyebrow. The next ?
Presti chuckled. If Lin Yi knew that his nickna in scouting circles was "Asian Durant," he'd probably have so words about it.
And Stephen Curry again? That na was familiar.
Back in college, Curry and Durant were in a silent scoring war. If Curry dropped 30, Durant put up 31. They never spoke about it. But they both knew.
Durant wasn't done with college hoops. He still watched Oklahoma Sooners and Davidson gas with Westbrook and Jeff Green when he had ti. And every ti, Curry impressed him.
But right now?
Presti suddenly leaned in, eyes locked on the screen. "Wait… did he just pull off a Shammgod?"
Durant watched, intrigued.
Presti cursed under his breath and pulled out his phone. His scouts had told him Lin Yi was good—but not like this.
This kid wasn't Durant. His fra was different. But damn… his handles? His footwork?
Presti scrolled through the latest scouting reports. Second-round projection? Are these guys blind?
.........
anwhile, back at Phoenix…
The ga was heating up.
Wildcats vs. Sun Devils.
Arizona State was up 25-27 with five minutes left in the half. Lin Yi decided to switch it up. The defense had adjusted to his rhythm, so now? It was ti to go inside.
He caught the ball in the low post, palming it easily. The mont his defender reached? Whistle.
Foul.
And-one.
Lin Yi wiped his sweat, shaking his head. NCAA free-throw rules—"1 1" shots unless the team hits 10 fouls. Annoying, but whatever. Free throws were free points for him and Curry.
First shot. Money.
Second shot. Tied ga.
Arizona State ca back down. Harden kicked it to the wing—wide-open three.
Clank.
Lin Yi snagged the rebound and pushed the tempo. Back to the low post. This ti? No hesitation.
Turn.
Fake left.
Grant bit.
Lin Yi spun right. Hook shot.
Bucket.
Reggie Miller chuckled from the broadcast booth. "Well, would you look at that! Our guy's got post moves now."
Dell Curry nodded. "Soft touch. Dream Shake into a Skyhook."
............
And Lin Yi knew it. Every fake, every counter—he was learning, not just playing.
But he also knew sothing else.
This is easy because they don't have a real center.
If he ran into a real post-player, it wouldn't be this smooth.
.............
anwhile, in the stands, a tall, slim guy muttered to himself, watching Lin Yi closely.
"…He's stealing the show."
A voice next to him laughed. "Including yours, DeMar?"
DeMar DeRozan rolled his eyes. "I'm here for Harden. We might see him in the regional finals."
His friend grinned. "Man, I'm telling you, Darren Collison's the real problem. Have you seen Russell Westbrook in the NBA?"
DeRozan barely heard him. He was locked in. Harden was his competition.
But Davidson?
They were a different kind of problem.
The first half ended.
Davidson 32-Arizona State 33.
Lin Yi
14 points, 7 rebounds.
Curry
15 points, 5 assists.
Harden
20 points.
All eyes were on the second half.
Because this ga
Far from over.
User Comments
0 comments from readers