Sports Medicine Master System

"I’m a small forward, not a power forward."

After introducing himself, Beasley immediately followed up with that statement.

Everyone was slightly taken aback.

According to the information they had, Beasley had always played the four-spot in high school, grabbing offensive rebounds with ease—a standard interior player.

Chen Yu sized up Beasley, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Other guys tried to be clever, calling themselves point guards instead of shooting guards to gain a physical advantage over Ford.

But this guy? He was agile and nimble like a guard. If he were matched up against Bosh, he might have even had an advantage.

And what did he do? He actually went and made things harder for himself by challenging James.

Of the five opponents, James was without a doubt the toughest. He was a veritable dream-crusher who would have no disadvantage at any position.

"Are you sure about that?" Chen Yu asked in return. He had a pretty good idea of what the kid was thinking. He just loved to show off and thought he was invincible. ’How can I look impressive if I don’t make it a little harder for myself?’

Beasley said arrogantly, "Of course. Like I said, I’m a small forward."

Jordan and the others exchanged a look, their expressions nonchalant.

They had seen far too many self-righteous punks like him.

"All right, then. I hope you don’t regret it."

Chen Yu shook his head to himself. ’Actually, it might be good to teach him a lesson.’

James immediately ran onto the court.

Compared to the arrogant Beasley, he was much more humble, even taking the initiative to greet him.

He was like that with everyone. You could say he was almost too humble, too good at managing relationships.

"You beat my friend yesterday. Today, I’m gonna get the win back for him," Beasley said aggressively.

James was taken aback for a moment, having no idea who Beasley was talking about.

Chen Yu chuckled to himself. ’Those two are actually really good friends.’

’But, kid, you’re clearly overthinking this.’

The challenge began.

Right away, James’s defense forced Beasley into a mistake. After three dribbles, he still had no opportunity to shoot.

Beasley did a turnaround and opted for a forced shot.

SMACK! With a muffled thud, James leaped to an incredible height like a demonic overlord blotting out the sky and swatted the ball away.

That block was as solid as they come.

Jordan had an exaggerated expression on his face, grinning from ear to ear.

Chen Yu clapped. People always said James had high emotional intelligence and was good with people, but who said someone with high EQ couldn’t be a little petty?

James was just better at hiding his emotions—smarter, that’s all.

Obviously, Beasley’s earlier attitude had annoyed him, so he got serious right from the start.

And a serious James was far beyond what the current Beasley could handle.

5-0. A clean and decisive shutout.

And when it was James’s turn on offense, he showed no mercy, scoring five times with five powerful dunks.

He absolutely crushed Beasley into dust.

Owen didn’t hesitate to criticize Beasley. "Beasley, you have a lot of talent, but you have no idea how to use your body. You need to train seriously and play a little smarter."

And that was the diplomatic version, since they were on camera.

If it had been the loud-mouthed Jordan, he would have just said, "You’re overconfident. If you keep this up, it will ruin you."

Beasley bit his lip, his eyes filled with defiance.

Chen Yu turned to look at Negro and the others.

Negro nodded slightly.

In the eyes of professional scouts like Negro, losing to James was completely normal. Winning against him would have been bizarre.

But even while being completely dominated by James, the athletic talent and skill Beasley displayed were absolutely top-tier.

So, passing the preliminary round shouldn’t have been a problem at all. He should have even had a spot in the final 30.

Chen Yu thought for a moment, then shook his head slightly at Owen and the others.

Their gazes were clearly filled with confusion.

Although they had criticized Beasley, it came back to the same thing: the results of the one-on-one didn’t matter. They were choosing based on talent.

And Beasley was one of the most talented prospects.

So they were still prepared to let Beasley pass.

But Chen Yu seemed to be signaling that he wanted to eliminate Beasley.

They didn’t know what Chen Yu was planning. It wasn’t like the show had a comeback stage or anything.

"Let’s vote," Chen Yu said.

The seven of them exchanged a final glance and pressed their buttons simultaneously.

As expected, a string of red lights appeared. Not even a single courtesy vote.

On the court, Beasley was stunned.

In disbelief, he blinked hard, only then confirming that he had been eliminated—without even one sympathy vote.

"This is unfair!"

Beasley yelled out directly.

Chen Yu ignored him and waved toward the backstage area, signaling for the next contestant.

"Fack," Beasley cursed. "You’ll regret this," he said resentfully, then turned and stalked off the court.

Jabbar shot him a questioning, confused look.

Although he also felt Beasley had some personality issues, there was no questioning his talent.

And in the NBA, there were actually many players with problematic personalities.

"It’s for his own good," Chen Yu said with a smile, not explaining further.

With Beasley’s personality, if he passed, his ego would swell to the heavens.

Suffering a setback really wouldn’t hurt him.

It might even motivate him to train harder.

Besides, eliminating Beasley would serve as a warning to all the other players, making them understand that talent alone isn’t enough—humility is also a virtue a good player should have.

Finally, a player like him would definitely make it to the NBA in the end, whether he participated in this show or not.

Getting a chance to temper his personality before entering the NBA would truly be good for him.

As for the show itself, his absence would have no impact. There were plenty of other talented freaks; they weren’t short one without him.

It was a minor, uneventful interlude. The recording continued.

Contestant 135, James Harden.

Chen Yu had an impression of this little chubby guy; after all, he had personally bailed him out of the police station.

He seemed a bit shy as he introduced himself.

The kid had asthma, so for him to have reached his current level through his own hard work was actually quite an achievement.

"Good luck," Chen Yu said encouragingly.

Harden nodded, a little excitedly, and took his position in front of Ford.

Ford didn’t pay much attention to Harden.

For Ford, he could tell a few things about a player’s talent and skill just by looking at them.

Take Harden, for example. At 1.85 meters, he was about the same height as Ford, but he was chubby, with some meat on his bones.

At his age, his body wasn’t fully developed yet. His strength and explosiveness were bound to be a bit lacking. Plus, being fat, his speed was definitely slow.

’Weaker than me, no height advantage, and his skills are raw. For me, overpowering a player like this would be too easy.’

But once they actually started playing, Ford’s expression suddenly turned strange. He sized up Harden with a puzzled look, a thought bubbling up in his mind.

’This chubby kid... he’s a little weird.’

At the judges’ table, Chen Yu and the others exchanged a look. They had noticed the issue too.

Harden’s rhythm on the court was very strange.

"Is he lacking explosiveness?" Jabbar asked softly.

Chen Yu didn’t speak.

Harden’s first step seemed pretty sharp and quick.

But then, he was like an engine missing a cylinder. He’d stomp on the gas for a ferocious start, and then immediately lose all power.

His first step was fast, but just when it felt like he was about to burst forward, he’d give off a feeling of the spirit being willing but the flesh being weak. He just couldn’t accelerate.

This resulted in a bizarre rhythm that caught Ford completely off guard.

Chen Yu sat up straight and continued to watch.

He didn’t score on the first possession, but Harden wasn’t discouraged and continued his attack.

He’d drive with the ball, make body contact, and it was as if the impact dissipated all his strength. He’d stall out in an instant, his movements suddenly slowing down.

This, in turn, caused Ford to overshoot his mark, giving up a sliver of space.

The key was that even with this seemingly flawed rhythm, Harden somehow didn’t lose the ball. His handle was incredibly steady, and he immediately seized the opportunity to take a shot.

Unfortunately, his shot was off, and the ball clanked off the rim.

The next few possessions had the same problem. He constantly gave off the feeling of jumping back and forth between fast and slow.

You couldn’t say he was good at body control or using changes of pace.

To use changes of pace, you first have to be able to play fast.

Only when you can be fast can you choose to be slow.

But with him, it was more like, ’I want to be fast, but I can’t. But since I can’t be fast, let me try a little harder anyway.’

Combined with his decent ball-handling, this created an extremely strange rhythm.

Ford was having a hard time adapting to this rhythm because he couldn’t accurately predict Harden’s next move.

If Harden’s shot were just a little better, he might have already scored.

On the defensive end, however, Harden’s physical disadvantages were on full display.

Slow movements, poor physicality—he’d lose his position with a single bump and couldn’t keep up with Ford’s pace at all.

Chen Yu couldn’t help but frown.

Judging from Harden’s defensive performance, that strange rhythm of his was clearly caused by a lack of physical energy.

It was a case of ’I want to go fast, but my body won’t let me.’

So, looking at it that way, this couldn’t be considered a talent. It was more of a strange result born from being too weak, but not quite weak enough.

Considering he had asthma and likely couldn’t train without holding back, it wasn’t surprising his body was in this state.

Most importantly, even if you judged him by his fastest moments, his talent still wasn’t good enough.

Not fast enough, his jump and leaping speed weren’t good, and his physical measurables like wingspan weren’t outstanding either.

You could only say he was a pretty ordinary kid.

But that strange rhythm... it really made it hard to be sure.

The judges exchanged a look, unsure of how to evaluate him for a moment.

Chen Yu turned to glance at Negro.

His expression was also a bit pained. He frowned and ultimately shook his head.

He thought Harden’s talent was too mediocre.

"Should we vote?" Johnson asked.

Chen Yu hesitated for a moment but ultimately pressed the red button.

He glanced at the results from the others.

George Gervin had given him a passing vote.

’Probably a consolation vote.’

On the court, a flash of disappointment crossed Harden’s face, but it was also what he had expected.

He had told Westbrook yesterday that he would definitely be eliminated today.

So it wasn’t that hard to accept.

But just as he was preparing to bow and give his thanks, suddenly, the save light flashed.

It was from George Gervin.

Harden froze. Chen Yu and the others were all stunned as well.

Chen Yu looked at George Gervin in surprise. In the auditions so far, out of the seven judges, everyone except George Gervin had used their save.

The old man’s nickname was the Ice Man. Given his calm and composed personality, that was understandable.

But why, at this moment, had he suddenly lost his composure?

No one else thought highly of the kid, yet he had suddenly used his save.

What on earth did the old man see in Harden?

’Or,’ he wondered, ’did I misjudge him?’