Sports Medicine Master System

The mock draft was over.

Out of 126 players, 36 were still brutally eliminated, receiving commemorative gifts from the production team.

The 30 teams set off the next day, heading to their respective home cities.

Durant, still carrying his backpack, boarded the production team’s bus and headed to Safford with DeRozan’s team.

Although the city of Safford was small, it had an airport. It was just a tiny one, and since Phoenix was only 200 kilometers from Safford, driving was much more convenient.

They were all around the same age, so there wasn’t much of a barrier between them. With Harden acting as a link, they all hit it off easily.

DeRozan had successfully drafted his good buddy, Holidays. For his last spot, he chose Blake Griffin, a high school freshman valued at $6 million.

It filled up his salary cap perfectly.

Griffin was born in ’89 and was tall and sturdy. He also had an older brother who attended the same high school.

And the head coach of this school team, called the Saints, was their father.

Of course, they didn’t rely too much on this connection. They were naturally talented, especially his brother, who was a well-known basketball prodigy in Oklahoma City.

Unfortunately, his brother was two years older and wasn’t selected for this show.

In the last school year, Griffin averaged 10 points and 7 rebounds, making him the team’s main scorer after his brother.

His athleticism was outstanding, especially his jumping ability. During the open auditions, he went for a powerful dunk, and although Bosh blocked it without hesitation, the fact that he could even challenge Bosh at the rim was proof of his impressive leap.

Unfortunately, his shockingly short wingspan, combined with his limited stats and relatively raw technique, lowered his value.

"Kevin, have you thought about how to run your team?" DeRozan asked, then quickly added, "It’s fine if you don’t want to talk about it."

They were still competitors, after all.

Durant shook his head.

He had thought about it, but Presti later told him not to worry about that stuff at all, saying it was just a trap set by the production team to distract them.

In the entire state of Arizona, there were no other big, populous cities besides Phoenix.

Even if you were lucky enough to draw Phoenix, could you really expect that many people to buy tickets to watch a high schooler’s game?

The time and energy spent worrying about how to manage a fan base would be better spent on training and improving his own skills.

There was another point: if they interacted with fans too much and met pretty girls, boys of fifteen or sixteen were at an age where their hormones were raging and they couldn’t control themselves. What if they got carried away with partying?

So before he came, Presti had made it clear to Durant that he only needed to worry about training and games; Presti would take care of everything else.

Seeing Durant’s personality—the type who couldn’t squeeze a word out—DeRozan gave up on starting a conversation and turned to talk to someone else.

The bus traveled along Highway 70. At first, the guys were in high spirits, watching the passing desert scenery with great interest.

But as signs of civilization grew scarcer and the landscape became a stretch of desolation as far as the eye could see, they gradually fell silent.

It felt as if they were being exiled.

Over two hours later, a small town slowly appeared before them.

Low-rise buildings, hardly any tall structures in sight, and under the scorching heat, there were barely any living souls to be seen in the town.

"This has to be the suburbs, right?" Harden asked blankly, craning his neck.

When the bus finally drove into Safford’s only high school, Thatcher High School, and stopped in front of the gymnasium, the six of them got off with the production crew. The blast of hot air that hit them nearly made them stumble.

"Fack."

Walking into the gym, seeing the mottled, peeling paint on the walls and the worn-out basketball hoops, even the usually silent Durant couldn’t help but curse along with the others.

For them, who were used to the glitz and glamour of the West and East Coasts, this environment was a huge letdown.

As the show’s filming officially entered its next phase, Chen Yu could finally free up some energy to worry about other matters.

For example, the Bobcat’s draft.

On the 22nd, the eve of the draft, they would select players from the lists submitted by each team.

The Phoenix Suns’ protection list had already been submitted. Besides the starting five, the remaining three were West, Posey, and Payton.

Payton’s $5 million a year contract was too much of a bargain; there was no reason to let him go.

On the afternoon of June 20th, Chen Yu took some time to go to the US Airways Center to discuss trades for the draft with the management team.

The main topic was the McDyess trade.

Brian had clearly made up his mind to trade McDyess away.

In fact, last Summer, Brian had talked to McDyess about a contract extension.

But he refused. His intention was clear: to maintain control and have more options this Summer.

Of course, the probability of him leaving as a free agent was also minimal.

He wanted a big contract, but he certainly wouldn’t go to a garbage team and tank his own value. After all, he was only 30. Even if he were traded, it would only be to a playoff-caliber team.

Otherwise, he might as well just stay with the Phoenix Suns.

Besides, he had won two championships with the Phoenix Suns; leaving as a true free agent would be hard to justify.

The key now was who to trade for—Howard or Okafor—and the specifics of how to do it.

Of course, it would be impossible to complete a trade during the draft, since the market hadn’t opened yet. But they had to formulate a plan and direction first before considering the specific assets involved.

To be honest, though, Chen Yu had some other ideas regarding the McDyess trade.

’Because even if we let McDyess go, we could focus on developing David West,’ Chen Yu thought.

The kid had a lot of potential, and Chen Yu had always been optimistic about him.

He’d been a sub for the sub for so long. Ma Long had screwed up and gotten suspended by the Phoenix Suns, and West had finally gotten a chance to play off the bench.

If they traded McDyess only to get a super rookie who would then pin him back on the bench, he probably wouldn’t feel too good about it.

On the other hand, Chen Yu really felt the shooting guard position needed reinforcement.

Miller still had a two-year contract, but who knew how long he could maintain his current form? And even if he could, his current level wasn’t enough.

They really should reinforce the shooting guard position.

So there were many options. They needed to discuss it thoroughly before deciding on a specific course of action.

He hurried to the arena and parked his car.

During the offseason, the parking lot was quite empty.

Chen Yu walked toward the office area with his bag. Just as he entered the hallway, someone suddenly jumped out in front of him, startling him.

"Fack, Mark! Where did you pop out from? Are you trying to scare me to death?" Chen Yu complained, clutching his chest.

It was Mark Burnett, the producer and director of the previous weight-loss show.

The guy must have been squatting in the corner at the bend in the hallway; Chen Yu hadn’t seen him.

Burnett apologized while grabbing Chen Yu’s hand without warning, saying excitedly, "Chen, you’re a genius! Combining basketball with a draft—that’s a genius idea! And that rule for hitting the buzzer... My god, a stroke of genius! Who came up with it? Dunne? Impossible. How could that idiot think of such a brilliant idea?"

"It must have been you, Chen! I realized it last year. You’re a genius, your mind is full of endless creative ideas."

"Hold on, hold on."

Chen Yu quickly stopped the effusive Burnett and asked, "When did you get to Phoenix? Did you come here specifically to see me? Why didn’t you contact me beforehand?"

"I just arrived this morning. And what makes you think I didn’t contact you? I called you several times, but your phone was off the whole time," Burnett said, looking at Chen Yu reproachfully.

Chen Yu said, "Sorry, I had surgery this morning, so my phone was off."

Leading Burnett toward the office area, Chen Yu finally asked him the purpose of his visit.

’He didn’t come all this way just to shower me with a couple of compliments, did he?’

But then again, he deserved the compliments.

Last night, the show about how to get into the NBA officially premiered.

The preliminary promotion, the six legendary players—especially Michael Jordan—weren’t invited for nothing. Combined with the lack of popular shows in the summer slot, the pilot episode’s ratings reached an astonishing 16.4, with nearly thirty million viewers.

Compared to last year’s weight-loss show, this one featured higher-caliber stars and also incorporated an open audition and draft format.

The best thing about the draft format was that it easily created contrast and comedic moments.

Many players ran their mouths and made grand boasts while filming their personal VCRs, only to be put in their place by James and the other four, leading to some incredibly awkward exits.

Add to that Michael Jordan personally taking the court to give pointers, and the pilot episode was packed with highlights.

All these factors combined to make the premiere a massive hit.

It got to the point where some sports media outlets stopped talking about the upcoming draft and instead started discussing Chen Yu’s open auditions, analyzing the potential of players like Rose and Durant.

So with the show being this popular, no amount of praise was an exaggeration.

Burnett didn’t rush to state his purpose. He just kept looking at Chen Yu with a mournful expression. "Chen, I know you hate CBS, and what they did last year was out of line. But there was never a problem between us, right? And that whole thing was a long time ago. Why didn’t you look for me when you were preparing this show?"

He felt like he had just missed out on ten million dollars.

Chen Yu shrugged. "I’m working just fine with ABC."

Last year, Chen Yu had a nasty falling out with CBS because of Michael Jackson.

Of course, Chen Yu had no problem with Burnett, nor did he blame him.

As a producer, he couldn’t control that kind of situation.

But Chen Yu remembered.

Since ABC had shown so much sincerity, why would he choose to work with CBS?

Burnett sighed. He knew the folks at CBS were kicking themselves over it.

In the end, nothing happened to Michael Jackson; his world tour was now in full swing. And they had ruined their relationship with Chen Yu in the process.

Otherwise, this year’s show would have been on CBS.

"Forget it, let’s not talk about the past. I came to find you this time because I have a suggestion."

He stopped walking and said, "It’s probably too late for us to partner up again. I imagine you wouldn’t break your contract with ABC no matter how much money we offered. But, we have an idea. We want to buy the internet streaming rights to your show."

Chen Yu paused, asking him what he meant.

Chen Yu was no stranger to internet live streaming, but he didn’t quite understand what he meant by "internet streaming rights."

Burnett said, "I assume that, based on your filming schedule, you won’t be able to edit a lot of the game footage into the final cut. However, we believe that many viewers, or rather, fans, would definitely be interested in watching these players’ games. So we’re willing to pay to buy the broadcast rights for these games and make them available for on-demand streaming on our website."

With that explanation, Chen Yu immediately understood, and his eyes lit up.

During the show’s preparation phase, when they were discussing promotion, Chen Yu always felt like he was overlooking something.

Now, after what Burnett said, it suddenly clicked for Chen Yu.

’I completely overlooked the internet!’

He had prepared so many games, but only a small fraction was edited into the final show. A massive amount of game footage was going to waste.

Under these circumstances, this game footage could absolutely be repurposed.

Of course, he definitely couldn’t sell it to CBS.

After what happened last time, Chen Yu had seen CBS’s arrogance. He’d have to be out of his mind to work with them again.

’So I can just do it myself!’

Chen Yu had actually always wanted to start a sports media outlet.

Since he’d already started a sports company, getting into sports media was an unavoidable next step.

’With this opportunity, maybe I can get my own sports media outlet off the ground.’