Allen Iverson ran into Su Xi at a urinal in the VIP restroom of the Super Do Arena, just 35 minutes after telling the dia, "If Jack Su wants to defend TJ Ford, he’d have to have my speed."
He’d said it because it was part of the job. He wasn’t one for schmoozing or playing social gas. But his agent treated him well, so he had to do Les a favor. Besides, TJ Ford was humble and respectful toward him, and the kid really was fast.
Su Xi was thrilled to see Iverson. He instinctively shifted his body to the side, his face lighting up. "I can’t believe I’m running into you here, Mr. Iverson. I voted for you for the All-Star ga."
The gesture was a bit awkward, given the circumstances.
Iverson was shorter than him, so when Su Xi turned slightly, Iverson caught sight of sothing massive—sothing befitting the na of the arena itself.
This took Iverson by surprise, and a newfound respect blood within him.
"Thanks."
Iverson instinctively shifted his own body.
He turned away, taking a small step forward.
For Iverson, it was one giant leap for urinal etiquette.
Su Xi quickly summoned the Little Elf. ’Scan Iverson.’
Super Speed Talent! Super Agility Talent! Super Explosiveness Talent! Super Coordination Talent!
Stamina Talent: Nearing Super-tier. Vertical Leap Talent: Nearing Super-tier. Flexibility Talent: Nearing Super-tier! Strength Talent: Nearing Elite-tier.
Su Xi was stunned. ’I had no idea Iverson’s talents were this incredible.’ Four Super-tier talents, and three more nearing that level.
According to the Little Elf’s classification, talents were divided into five tiers: Common, Elite, Excellent, Top, and Super.
In terms of talent tiers, he was the definition of a "hexagon warrior"—maxed out in every stat.
If Iverson had been a bit taller, trained a little harder, and maintained these talent levels, he might have had a shot at grasping the scepter of the God of Basketball.
Su Xi was amazed.
He had thought Jas’s talents were unbeatable, but he never expected Iverson’s number of Super-tier talents to be on par with his.
Of course, Jas’s overall talent was still better. His sheer physical presence was a talent in itself. In terms of height, wingspan, and body type, he completely eclipsed Iverson.
"Can you teach how to defend TJ Ford?"
After shaking himself dry, Su Xi asked a rather forward question.
Iverson was taken aback. He stared at Su Xi. He was on friendly terms with Yao Ming; they were both signed to the sa brand. But Yao had always struck him as low-key, reserved, humble, and witty. This kid, aside from being... well-endowed... was also surprisingly blunt.
"I don’t know how to answer that, but if you can stop him from running, you’ll have succeeded in defending him," Iverson said, offering a piece of useless advice.
But Su Xi considered it seriously.
Seeing Su Xi’s intense concentration, Iverson was sowhat touched.
Kobe had ntioned Su Xi to him before.
Kobe had said he was the most passionate young guy about basketball he’d ever t, even turning down Jessica Alba for the sport.
At the ti, he hadn’t believed it. He didn’t think Jessica Alba would be interested in so kid playing college ball. Now, he was about seventy percent convinced.
After all, he’d seen the proof with his own eyes.
Besides, the earnest expression on Su Xi’s face as he mulled over the advice also showed Iverson how much he loved the ga.
Iverson walked out and headed for the court, where he soon ran into his beloved college coach, John Thompson.
Old Thompson had already retired from his position as head coach of Georgetown, but Iverson still deeply respected the old man. Years ago, after Iverson was convicted of a felony for a bowling alley brawl, no university would take him, even though his sentence was commuted after a few months. It was Georgetown that extended a lifeline. Old Thompson brought Iverson in and personally ntored him. For Iverson’s sake, Old Thompson even broke his own principles, allowing him to enter the draft after his sophomore season, where he beca the first overall pick in 1996.
"Coach."
Iverson said respectfully upon seeing Thompson.
Thompson nodded and motioned for him to sit beside him.
Iverson was rarely this compliant. Not even a legendary, old-school coach like Larry Brown could make him so deferential.
"Are you here to support the University of Texas?" Iverson asked.
"No, I’m here to see ’Lil-Goat’," Thompson said with a smile. He was a big fan of Su Xi, even though the kid had given Georgetown a world of trouble. He had even kept the tapes of the two regular-season gas Su Xi played against them. He loved Su Xi’s style of play: tough, unselfish, and brimming with swagger.
Georgetown’s own "Horror Rod" was completely dominated by him every ti they matched up.
Thompson even found himself thinking, ’If only Su Xi were my player. I’d mold him into a point guard version of a combined Ewing, Moning, and Mutombo.’
That was sothing Thompson had always wanted to do.
’Lil-Goat?’
Iverson had never heard such an audacious nickna.
"It’s Little Sheep Su Xi. He’s pretty famous now, but the folks at Georgetown like to call him Lil-Goat!" John Thompson explained.
Iverson had no idea Su Xi had this kind of history with his alma mater. After entering the NBA, he rarely paid attention to the college basketball scene unless a story blew up and crossed into the mainstream.
Everyone lives in their own filter bubble, and Iverson was no exception.
Thompson then told Iverson about Su Xi’s history with Georgetown, which Iverson found amusing. He was also surprised at how highly his old coach rated Su Xi, thinking he could beco a point guard version of a combined Ewing, Moning, and Mutombo.
He even went as far as to tell him, "In the future, when that kid makes it to the NBA, look out for him if you get the chance."
Iverson nodded repeatedly.
Just then, TJ Ford walked over to greet Iverson, expressing his respect. He then emphatically told Iverson that tonight, he was going to make Little Sheep Su Xi experience the full might of a speed-based point guard.
Iverson’s expression turned a little awkward. His old ntor was sitting right beside him, and he was clearly a huge supporter of Su Xi.
Thankfully, TJ Ford left after saying his piece.
He had just co from a dia scrum where reporters had vividly recounted how Su Xi had mocked him with just two grunts. He was fuming. He had laid down the gauntlet: "They’re just going to go from one failure to the next. I don’t know any ’Little Sheep Su Xi,’ but in this ga, I’m going to show him what they call the ’Lightning Engine’."
"Lightning Engine" was TJ Ford’s nickna.
At seven o’clock, night had fallen over New Orleans. The Super Do Arena was electric, all sixty-five thousand seats filled. A dense, surging sea of people packed the stadium, creating a monuntal atmosphere.
At that mont, the players from both teams took the court.
Tonight, one of these two teams would advance to the 2002-2003 NCAA Championship Ga.
Both CBS and ESPN were broadcasting the ga live across the nation.
The caras panned across the crowd, revealing courtside seats filled with luminaries from the basketball world and other high-profile celebrities.
If the Super Bowl was the biggest television event in the United States, then the NCAA Final Four was, at the very least, the next biggest spectacle.
Who would give the fans across Arica an unforgettable night?
Countless expert eyes were fixed on the court.
A single ga could change many things, even rewriting the entire trajectory of a person’s life.
...
...
Bonus Chapter for you all! Please leave a recomndation vote, a monthly pass, and keep reading!
The recomndation system on the platform these days is so... harsh.
If your stats aren’t good enough, you get passed over imdiately. Even sending my handso photos to the editorial departnt doesn’t work.
It’s brutal.
I’m really pouring my heart into this one; I want to write a basketball novel I can be proud of, with no regrets.
I’m begging you!
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