"Mr. Presti." Durant had just wrapped up a set of threes in the Thunder training gym, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Kevin, you've been looking sharp lately," Presti said, casually walking over. "But man, you should be taking more shots. Your shooting percentage is crazy good—why not get a little selfish?"
Durant shrugged, catching his breath. "I like team ball, man. If Russ gets his touches and eats, he's happy."
His relationship with Westbrook? Complicated. Kind of like a couple before and after a breakup. When it was good, it was ride-or-die. When it wasn't... well, they barely looked at each other.
Still, Westbrook leaned on KD—a lot. On and off the floor. And ever since Durant promised to get him a few more assists a night, Russ had been on cloud nine.
"Hey, Presti," Durant said, shifting topics, "you've been checking out that Lin Yi kid a lot. Are we thinking of grabbing him in the draft?"
Presti grinned. He liked that KD was curious. It ant he was thinking big-picture—championships.
"Yeah, I like him. That Chinese big man's got sothing. You seen him play? What do you think?"
Presti plopped down right there on the hardwood, waiting for Durant's take.
KD thought for a mont. "Physically? Blake Griffin's the better athlete, no question. And Russ is obsessed with him. But Lin? He's... different."
"Different how? Don't hold back," Presti encouraged.
"He moves smoothly for a seven-footer. Like, really smooth. His jumper's clean, footwork's tight, and his ball-handling? Dude's got creativity. I've never seen soone taller than handle it like that. But the wild part? He's quick. In one ga, he even dunked on Blake. I'd love to play with him. He doesn't need the ball all the ti and he runs pick-and-rolls like a guard."
Presti raised his eyebrows. That was high praise coming from KD.
He'd already watched Lin's ga tapes. All of them. And he'd nudged Coach Brooks about giving more run to the younger players.
Brooks knew what that ant: lose a few more gas. Not his favorite thing, but he understood. If they wanted to make another leap, they had to make a bold move.
Presti looked at KD. "Kevin, if we land the top pick? I'm taking Lin over Blake."
Durant blinked. That was bold.
"In my eyes, you and Lin—y'all are future warriors. Blake's gonna be an All-Star, sure, but Lin? He's being slept on hard. Scouts are way off. I think he fits us. Fits you."
Durant nodded slowly. He got it.
This year, he and Russ had been experinting with so pick-and-roll sets—and the results were promising. But the thought of running that with Lin Yi? Whew.
If KD had the ball and Lin set the screen? Lin would be a mismatch nightmare for a small forward. And if the center switched onto KD? Easy blow-by.
Flip it around, and Lin could initiate while KD set the pick.
It'd be deadly.
And with Russ's motor and explosiveness, the trio could be sothing special. If Russ improved his playmaking a bit more? This squad could take over the league.
Presti had a vision. Lock down KD, Russ, and Lin Yi on max deals, then fill the gaps with smart draft picks and vet-min guys who could still ball.
"You know," Durant added, "I like Lin a lot. But I'm also a fan of Davidson's style. I like Curry too—dude plays wild, but he's got flair."
Presti chuckled. The idea of landing either of those guys had him hyped. Now they just had to see what the scouts dug up.
.......
Lin Yi had no clue he was living rent-free in Presti's head.
At that mont, he was deep in training with Curry.
Lin was focused on handling mismatches and sharpening his one-on-one defense. Curry? He was working on tearing up bigs on switches.
Soday, people would call Curry a walking textbook for small guards. But for now, it was all sweat and grind.
Coach McKillop walked into the gym, clapping his hands. "You two seen the news lately? Congrats—you're both in the lottery projections now."
He still couldn't believe it. Two Davidson Wildcats might go lottery? Unreal.
As a coach, he wanted them to stay another year. But he also knew how fast things changed in the draft world. Deep down, he wanted them to go as far as possible.
Lin and Curry both had mad respect for McKillop. Lin especially—he thought Arican college coaches were sothing special. Pure basketball minds. No ego, just craft.
"But don't let it get to your heads," McKillop warned. "I'm not asking you to fake humility, just rember—if we don't make a run in March Madness, all this hype can vanish. Soone behind you could leapfrog you overnight."
On that, Lin and Steph were already locked in. Last year they made it to the Elite Eight. This year? They were chasing it all.
Championship or bust.
Right before Christmas break, the team had one last joint practice. After the holidays, it would be full steam ahead.
March was coming.
And history was waiting.
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