Sports Medicine Master System

For example, their playmaking ability.

So this was just the first round of eliminations.

Including Chen Yu, there were seven judges in total. Each had one vote. If a player received four votes, they would advance to the next round.

Anything less, and they would be eliminated on the spot.

With 282 people, they obviously had to eliminate a large group first.

The judges all nodded. Chen Yu turned to look at Negro.

In addition to his own opinion, Chen Yu was primarily representing the consensus of the scouting team behind him.

Negro gave Chen Yu a slight nod.

The scouting team had given him the green light.

Without hesitation, Chen Yu pressed the green button in front of him.

In front of each of the seven judges was a small, square display screen connected to two buttons: one red and one green.

The purpose was for them to vote simultaneously and for the results to be displayed instantly.

In the center of the court, Clark couldn’t help but shut his eyes, not daring to watch.

A moment later, a chime indicating he had passed rang out, and only then did Clark dare to open his eyes.

Out of seven votes, he had received five.

The screens in front of Jabbar and George Gervin showed a red ’X’.

But it didn’t matter; he had passed the preliminary round.

Clark leaped high into the air with excitement, then quickly bowed in thanks.

"Go on," Chen Yu said, waving his hand to dismiss him.

Muttering his thanks, Clark excitedly ran off.

He would head to the backstage waiting area to celebrate with his father, who had accompanied him to Phoenix.

"Next."

Chen Yu beckoned towards the entrance.

Back in the waiting area, a teenager took a deep breath, then high-fived and hugged a companion he had just met. "Trust me," he said, "I’m going to make it."

He then jogged out onto the court.

Watching this, Durant couldn’t help but feel a surge of nervousness.

He noticed that in addition to the red and green buttons, each of the seven judges had a round, golden button stamped with the show’s logo. He tugged on the sleeve of a kid next to him, asking what the golden button was for.

"So you mean if one of them presses the golden button, you advance automatically, no matter how the vote turns out, right?"

It dawned on Durant. Just as he was about to ask if it had been used yet, Griffin, who was beside him, patted him on the back. "What position do you play?" Griffin asked curiously.

He tilted his head up slightly, sizing Durant up.

’This guy looks a tiny bit taller than me.’

Durant quickly replied, "I’m Kevin Durant, and I play point guard."

"Point guard?"

Griffin blinked, a strange look on his face. He himself was 6-foot-6 and played power forward on his school team, occasionally filling in for his brother at center.

’And this Durant guy, who’s even taller than me, plays point guard?’

"How tall are you?" Griffin couldn’t help but ask.

Durant smiled shyly. "Actually, as a high school freshman, I was only about 6-foot-3. Then last year, I shot up five inches. Now I’m about 6-foot-8."

Griffin stared blankly at Durant for a full five seconds before patting his arm. "Well, good luck out there," he said, his voice laced with encouragement.

But there was an unmistakable hint of pity in his tone.

In his opinion, Durant was way too skinny.

Even though he’d shot up five inches in a year, he was still unnaturally thin.

This situation was obviously just like Earl Clark’s. He’d started out as a point guard, but a sudden growth spurt was forcing him to transition to playing inside.

But at least Clark had some bulk to him. With a frame like Durant’s, if he went to play in the paint, it felt like he’d get knocked around until he broke.

If Durant insisted on playing guard, his height would be a liability to his speed. Against lightning-quick guards, he’d get blown by on every possession.

With these two examples right in front of him, Griffin could only lament that sometimes, a sudden growth spurt wasn’t such a good thing after all.

Durant didn’t pick up on the subtext in Griffin’s voice and simply smiled and thanked him.

Five offensive possessions, five defensive possessions, plus the judges’ comments, the initial self-introduction, and a bit of small talk—the whole process was quite lengthy. By the time it was Durant’s turn, an hour had already passed.

He gave his jersey one last tug, tightened his shoelaces, and jogged out from backstage.

Griffin, who had gone just before him, had earned five votes with his outstanding leaping ability and advanced smoothly.

Under the bright lights, he stepped onto the court.

Supple and very springy. ’Way better than the floor at my school’s gym.’

He’d overheard someone saying that the court was laid with the same kind of flooring used by NBA teams, and it was incredibly expensive.

The lighting was also identical to what you’d find in an NBA arena. Stepping onto a court like this felt like being in a real NBA game.

"You play point guard?"

Durant had barely gotten two sentences into his introduction when Magic Johnson cut him off.

It wasn’t that the NBA didn’t have tall point guards; Hardaway was one, and he himself was arguably the most famous tall point guard of all.

And Durant, at 6-foot-8, was practically the same height as him.

Durant nodded quickly, explaining about his recent growth spurt.

The judges exchanged glances. ’Another Earl Clark.’

Chen Yu took a longer look at Durant. He recalled that Durant’s file did mention he played point guard when he started high school.

After Durant finished his introduction, Johnson asked, "Are you sure you want to test as a point guard? You could opt to test as a forward."

’Easy to say,’ Johnson thought, eyeing Durant’s stick-thin arms and legs, ’but if this kid went up against someone like James, he probably wouldn’t be able to hold his ground at all.’

Even Bosh, who looked lanky, was actually very strong on contact.

’He’s just too skinny.’

Durant had already thought about this question before coming out. He nodded and said, "I still want to play point guard. I still primarily play guard at school."

Johnson nodded, not pressing the issue further. In any case, he wasn’t very optimistic about Durant.

’He’s too thin, and with that sudden growth spurt, his speed must have taken a huge hit.’

’Maybe he’s insisting on testing as a point guard just to take advantage of his height.’

After all, TJ Ford was only 6-foot-0.

But if Durant thought that would give him an edge, he was sorely underestimating an NBA-caliber player.

The fact that TJ Ford had won Rookie of the Year said it all.

From the opposite stands, where the five "super rookies" were resting, TJ Ford shrugged and jogged onto the court, looking relaxed.

Durant had already warmed up backstage, so the drill began immediately.

Near the free-throw line, Durant posted up on TJ Ford. He tried to back him down, but it felt... like pushing against a brick wall.

He quickly made a move, lowering his body and trying to use his upper body to create space from Ford.

It had little effect.

For a smaller guy, TJ Ford was surprisingly strong.

Durant gave a shoulder fake, started his dribble, and after just one step, forced up a shot.

But as he rose up, he suddenly felt the ball disappear from his hands.

The ball had been stripped!

TJ Ford tossed the ball back to him.

Durant frowned slightly. He chose to drive with the ball again, then came to an abrupt stop, pulled back, and shot.

Unexpectedly, it was as if Ford had anticipated his move, jumping at almost the exact same moment.

And he jumped surprisingly high.

CLANG! The ball hit the rim and bounced out.

Durant bit his lip lightly. ’This guy is a full eight inches shorter than me!’

Third possession. Jab step, then pull up for a shot.

The result was the same. Durant felt like Ford had jumped even before he did. By the time he brought the ball up, Ford’s hand was already in his face, disrupting his shooting rhythm.

Another miss.

Durant was starting to lose his composure. If he recalled correctly, the media scouting report on TJ Ford was top-tier speed and a sharp drive, but a weak physique, a major height disadvantage, and defense that was a complete mess.

’You call this a complete mess?’

As he received the ball again, he saw Ford looking at him with a grin. Durant had the sinking feeling that Ford wasn’t even trying his hardest.

’Calm down.’

Durant took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down.

If he performed like this on the next two possessions, he could already see what the outcome would be.