Sports Medicine Master System

Indianapolis, Heron River High School basketball arena.

The slightly dilapidated basketball arena was packed with students, who erupted in cheers at the performance of the scantily clad cheerleaders on the court.

On the sidelines, the players of both teams huddled together, listening to their coaches lay out the strategy.

Among them, the 213-centimeter-tall Greg Oden was particularly conspicuous. He had a large frame and looked like a classic big man, with a hefty weight to match—already 250 pounds, or 113 kilograms.

Coupled with a face that seemed to have endured a lifetime of hardship, he didn’t look at all like a boy of just sixteen.

"Chen, I was right, wasn’t I? He’s the next Russell!"

In a corner of the stands, Negro sat with Chen Yu, continuing excitedly, "Look at his physique, look at his agility! He can run at full speed like a guard. In his coach’s words, when he runs, it’s like an 18-wheeler barreling down the court."

"His defense is outstanding. No one dares to get reckless under the basket when he’s defending. Look at the opposing center—he can’t move him at all. And his offensive skills are so well-rounded. He can attack with both his left and right hand, he has a mid-range shot, and his free throws—look how accurate they are."

"Hold on, hold on."

Beside him, Chen Yu, wearing a baseball cap, waved to interrupt Negro. "Matthew," he said, somewhat exasperated, "you’re not reporting to David. There’s no need to be so over-the-top."

After joining the Suns, Negro had first worked as an international scout for three years.

International scouts, to put it bluntly, are basically freelancers. Their pay is directly tied to whether or not they discover overseas basketball prodigies.

So, to get paid, it was inevitable that they’d hype up every ’super-genius’ they supposedly found in some country or another.

"This makes you seem unprofessional."

This whole spiel was almost completely devoid of substance.

Negro was stunned for a few seconds before giving an awkward laugh. "Chen, you’re right. I did exaggerate. His physicality is excellent, but he’s not tough enough, especially his lower body. It doesn’t seem stable. Once he gets to the NBA, he probably won’t be able to get such deep post position."

"And because of that, he doesn’t have many offensive tools to score. His scoring efficiency looks decent right now, with a field goal percentage under the basket of sixty percent or even higher, but this also exposes two problems."

"First, he can really only score on putbacks and dunks under the basket. Second, he doesn’t have the ability to handle a high volume of possessions. His skills still need a lot of polishing."

"As for his defense..."

Negro thought for a moment before continuing, "At least for now, it looks like he has outstanding defensive talent, but his habits are really bad. His movements are too big, which could lead to foul trouble."

"However," Negro’s tone shifted again as he said with a grin, "skills can be coached. But his physical gifts... they’re truly exceptional."

Chen Yu smiled too.

’This is more like it,’ he thought. ’This is the insightful analysis you’d expect from a professional NBA-level scout.’

It could be said that Negro’s assessment was very accurate and quite similar to Chen Yu’s own opinion.

Right now, Oden was being hyped as the next Russell, an "18-wheeler barreling down the court," and so on. That kind of talk was just media BS; you could listen to it, but you didn’t have to take it seriously.

Just watching the game, Oden looked unstoppable—flying through the air for huge blocks and thunderous dunks, with skilled post moves, layups with either hand, and even a mid-range shot. But this was a high school-level game.

Oden looked like he could do whatever he wanted under the basket, but just as Negro said, his base was unstable. Against the top-tier muscle-bound monsters in the NBA, you could try posting up and see if you could still easily muscle your way under the basket to get deep enough position.

With an unstable base, you can’t even hold your ground under the basket.

In the training manual Chen Yu had given Yao Ming, he specifically required him to focus on strengthening his lower body muscles while bulking up, precisely for this reason.

If Yao Ming didn’t have thighs as thick as a normal person’s waist, his time with the Lakers wouldn’t have been easy either.

In high school, the level of physicality isn’t high. Even in college, it’s nowhere near NBA-level. So once you get to the NBA, minor flaws get magnified infinitely. Then, like the butterfly effect, a player who seemed unstoppable and could do everything suddenly looks like a bust who’s forgotten how to play basketball.

In high school, you can bully opponents with your physique, and your skills seem good enough. But once you get to the NBA, if you don’t work on your skills, you can’t just make a living off your body.

Not to mention, Oden’s own skills under the basket were quite average, extremely raw.

Just as Negro evaluated, he looked highly efficient, but in reality, his skills were lacking, and he couldn’t handle a high usage rate.

After thinking for a moment, Chen Yu turned his head and asked, "Matthew, from your perspective, if he entered the draft, where do you think he’d be picked?"

"Number one pick."

Negro gave his conclusion almost without hesitation. "He’s only a sophomore in high school and has already been named the best high school player in the country. Following this trajectory, as long as he doesn’t get injured... of course, injuries aren’t a problem. Not with you around."

He chuckled. Chen Yu’s sudden emergence had made everyone in the sports world feel that even a serious injury risk was no big deal. You just had to send the player over to Chen Yu.

Wade had most of his meniscus removed, but after Chen Yu’s treatment, wasn’t he playing at the top of his game again?

"He should be able to dominate high school with ease. And from what I’ve observed, there are no players in his grade nationwide who can compete with him. So if he declares for the ’06 draft, he’ll definitely be the number one pick."

"After all, you know that centers tend to have a higher draft value."

Chen Yu raised an eyebrow slightly.

Chen Yu hadn’t been paying attention to other high school players in the same grade.

But a guaranteed number one pick? That still felt like a bit of an exaggeration.

In any case, Chen Yu felt that in the last couple of years, there had only been one truly undisputed number one pick: James.

The kid had significant technical flaws, but his physical gifts were maxed out in every respect. That destined him to have an extremely high floor. No matter what year he was in, he’d be a top-three pick at worst, and a favorite for number one.

"I feel like he’s a safe top-five pick, but as for number one... he really needs a lot of polish. We’d have to see what the draft landscape looks like that year," Chen Yu said after some thought.

’And even that,’ he thought, ’is probably giving him the benefit of the doubt because centers are in high demand.’

Negro thought for a moment and said, "Chen, why do I get the feeling you’re not that high on him?"

Chen Yu shook his head. "It’s not that I’m not high on him. With his raw tools, I have no doubt he can establish himself in the NBA and become a decent big man. But if we’re insisting on the ’next Russell’ idea, then I think it’s a bit of a stretch."

Everyone dreams of being the next O’Neal, the next Russell, the next Olajuwon.

But one could only say that this might just be wishful thinking.

The reason Chen Yu felt this way was also related to a recent news story he’d seen.

Not long ago, the Washington media reported that Kwame Brown, the number one pick from ’01, had rejected a contract extension from the Wizards. He would most likely play out the final year of his contract and become a restricted free agent.

Judging from the news on the surface, the Wizards hadn’t given up on Brown yet.

And this season, Brown was playing okay, averaging 11.2 points and 7.6 rebounds. Those numbers would make him a competent starting-caliber big man, even in the West.

Logically, the Wizards hadn’t given up on him, Jordan had retired so no one was yelling at him anymore, and the Wizards’ team psychologist was working hard to correct his mental issues. Everything was looking up.

But Washington fans were still cursing him out, calling him a bust. When the media interviewed fans, many didn’t support the Wizards re-signing Brown and were calling for management to get rid of him quickly.

This was likely the main reason Brown didn’t want to re-sign with the Wizards.

But Chen Yu saw a problem in this situation: being overhyped and chosen as the number one pick wasn’t necessarily a good thing.

Just like Brown, who back in the day was also called the best high school player, a once-in-a-century genius, and so on.

Of course, he was talented, had outstanding athleticism, and in high school, his skills seemed sufficient and well-rounded.

But after actually landing in the NBA, his abilities didn’t match his status as the number one pick.

If Brown had been selected in the mid-lottery back then, with his current performance, there would definitely be a ton of people praising him.

And the same situation could apply to Yao Ming or to Oden.

Even now, there are still many harsh Lakers fans who feel the Lakers lost big in the Yao Ming for O’Neal trade, that Yao Ming was nowhere near as dominant as O’Neal.

The problem is, in the entire history of the NBA, there’s only been one O’Neal. The man’s physical gifts were truly on a historical level.

If Yao Ming hadn’t been the number one pick, if he’d been selected by the Lakers at number ten, Lakers fans would be singing his praises to the high heavens right now, talking about how great the management’s vision was.

You can only say that fans, and management, have expectations for the number one pick that are far too high. And such expectations only have a negative effect on a player’s training and development.

Everyone wants the number one pick to be like O’Neal, Duncan, or James, but how many players like that actually exist?

So, in Chen Yu’s view, Oden was certainly talented, but he shouldn’t be hyped up too much. If he were really chosen as the number one pick and became the target of all criticism, his own flaws would be magnified, and it would be hard to say what the final result would be.

And at the end of the day, just being able to establish a career in the NBA is already a huge success.

Seeing that Chen Yu was silent, Negro asked, "Chen, what do you think about him being the protagonist for our show? From what I understand, he’s a good kid, has a good personality, and is serious about his studies."

At least, the bad habits common among black people hadn’t appeared in Oden.

"He could work," Chen Yu nodded.

With Oden’s physical gifts, he was a lock for the NBA, so he’d be a safe bet for the show with no problems at all.

But to be honest, he still wasn’t the most suitable choice.

His profile was already very high. Any fool knew he would make it to the NBA, so choosing him as the show’s protagonist wasn’t actually that meaningful.

In fact, in Chen Yu’s mind, there was a more suitable candidate.

Derek Rose!

That unknown kid whose brilliance no one had yet discovered.

But Chen Yu felt he had some extraordinary talent. If he worked hard, he might really make it into the NBA.

Just then, the game ended.

Lawrence North High School won by a landslide.

This was an invitational game that Chen Yu had asked Negro to arrange.

"Let’s go, we’ll have a few words with him," Chen Yu said, getting up.

In Indianapolis, Oden was clearly already a star. As soon as the game ended, many students flocked to him for autographs.

Naturally, there was also no shortage of bush-league scouts and agents handing him their business cards.

Oden finally managed to deal with all these people and was about to head back to the locker room when he was stopped by his coach, Jack Kiefer.

"Greg, I want you to meet someone," Jack Kiefer said mysteriously.

He led Oden to an office in the arena. Oden could hear people talking inside.

After opening the door, he saw the coach of Heron River High School talking with two men. One of them, a man in a baseball cap, was just listening with a smile and not saying much.

But when he got a clear look at Chen Yu’s face, Oden froze.

In the United States sports world, there was probably no one who didn’t know who Chen Yu was.

Jack Kiefer froze as well. He had previously thought that Negro, the scout from the Suns, wanted to meet Oden—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

But he never expected Chen Yu to be there too.