Chapter 585 - 512: Advancing on the Dreams of Others
After lunch, Durant returned to his team headquarters immediately.
Each team had been assigned its own office, which the players jokingly called their "team headquarters."
There was even a team logo hanging on the office door.
It was an abstract mountain peak.
Hence, Durant’s team name: Devil’s Mountain.
When they were discussing team names, Durant had come up with it almost without a second thought.
At first, Presti thought Durant had chosen the name because he idolized Hill.
But that wasn’t the case.
Devil’s Mountain held a deep meaning for Durant.
When he was ten, he met Taras Brown.
Brown was a basketball coach at the Hite Event Center, a place where Durant often trained as a child. Not far from the event center was a small hill, only seventy meters high, covered in dense trees with a rugged, difficult path. Being located on the chaotic and dangerous L Street, it really wasn’t a good place.
You could bring someone here, kill them, and dump the body, and it might not be found for a month.
But it was here that a ten-year-old Durant, to build his stamina, would run sprints up the hill and back down again, over and over, under the cover of night after a day of school or practice.
He would run dozens of laps every day, rain or shine, until he was so exhausted he couldn’t take another step.
Over several years, Durant ran from the base of the hill to its peak more than ten thousand times. Looking back, he sometimes wondered how he ever managed to stick with it.
It wasn’t that he never thought about quitting. After all, kids his age were outside playing or watching TV, and he was just a boy a little over ten years old.
He didn’t dare say anything to the fierce Coach Brown, so he could only endure it in silence. And when his team won the AUU championship right before he was about to enter high school, the top basketball schools ignored him because of his skinny frame.
This rejection shattered Durant, and he gave up.
It was his mother who encouraged him and convinced him to persevere.
Later, he met Charlie Bell, the basketball coach for the National Christian Academy, Maryland. The funny thing was, Charlie Bell only noticed Durant while he was there to scout Beasley.
So for Durant, that hill, that name, would always mean something. It represented the sweat he shed during those years, panting as he ran to the summit in the dead of night.
It also reminded him just how hard it had been to get to where he was today.
Presti was already waiting for him, flipping through a large stack of player reports on the table.
"Kevin, I’d like to know what your thoughts are on this mock draft," Presti said, gesturing for Durant to sit down.
Durant pondered for a moment. "We should pick a center who’s strong enough to protect our rebounds. Then we should also pick a small forward who’s a good shooter, preferably one who can hit threes."
Since he was the point guard in a 3v3 format, the most logical combination was clearly to add a center and a small forward.
"That’s it? No other thoughts?" Presti pressed.
Durant’s eyes shifted. "I think we should pick a center in the six to seven million dollar range and use the rest of our salary cap on a small forward. The center is more important. It’d be best if he’s athletic and can set screens for us."
The center sets the screen, and the small forward waits on the wing. That was the most suitable tactic Durant could think of.
Presti asked again if he had any other ideas. When Durant shook his head, Presti also shook his head with a smile. "First of all, you can’t just think of yourself as a point guard. With your height, you could even play small forward."
He sized up Durant, who was a head taller than him. To have that kind of athleticism with his height and wingspan was simply incredible.
’Absolutely outstanding talent.’
’It would be great if the Spurs could draft Durant in the future.’
’We could use him as a small forward.’
The Spurs had always had issues on the wing. Bowen was an excellent defender, but he wasn’t enough to help shoulder the offensive load.
"Would you like to hear my thoughts and suggestions?" Presti asked.
Durant nodded. The show’s production team had assigned these people, who wore multiple hats, to them precisely to help them and offer advice.
Presti smiled. "First, you need to understand one thing: this is a television show, not some AUU or NSAA league. So you have to think about it from the perspective of filming a TV show."
He stood up, walked to the whiteboard, and drew two line segments with a marker.
"You can divide the show into two phases. The first phase is the regular season. Kevin, each of our teams has to play 58 games. Each game might last 30 minutes, and there are 30 teams. That’s an incredible amount of content."
"If we were broadcasting games live every day for three months like the NBA, that would be no problem. But we’re not. We’re a TV show that airs one episode a week."
Even in the NBA, only a few games are nationally televised on any given game day.
"So, have you noticed the problem?"
Durant blinked and shook his head blankly.
Presti didn’t mind and provided the answer. "In other words, your games won’t be broadcast live at all. It’s more likely they’ll take a different approach: pick important games, take highlight clips from them, and then mix in a lot of other footage."
"For example, your interviews, your backstories... all edited together, maybe taking up just five minutes of airtime. We’re not a professional league, and no one wants to watch a bunch of kids play ball. What they’re curious about are your stories."
"They want to see you grow, see your underdog victories, see your self-redemption. And finally, in the future, when you become NBA stars, they’ll look back and say, ’Oh my god, I watched his TV show! Did you know? He was amazing back in high school. He could beat so-and-so in a one-on-one.’"
"And *that* is the main purpose of this show."
Durant only half-understood. He frowned and thought for a moment before saying, "So is this still a basketball competition? Hasn’t it just become a reality show?"
Just like on *Survivor*, they find a bunch of ordinary people, introduce their stories, and watch them struggle, give up, and finally stage a comeback victory. It was exactly as Presti had described.
"That’s right, Kevin. This *is* a reality show!" Presti nodded.
Chen Yu invited six legendary superstars, gathered so many kids from all over the country, covered their room and board, rented arenas, and offered a huge prize. Was it all just to run a youth basketball league? What would be the point of the AUU and NSAA then?
So, in Presti’s eyes, this was, at its core, a show—a show personally crafted by Chen Yu for these promising young talents.
Durant felt a little uneasy. This kind of basketball didn’t feel pure anymore.
"So what?" Durant asked.
Presti pointed a finger at Durant. "So you need to remember one thing: you are the protagonist. Or rather, the thirty team captains are the protagonists of this show. All the cameras will be focused on you."
"As for the other players, they’re just backup dancers standing behind the main star. They’re your supporting cast."
"Of course, it’s not like they don’t have a chance. If you don’t play well enough, they’ll replace you, take the captain’s position, and become the new protagonists in an underdog story."
"Therefore, you can’t pick teammates with the goal of just winning games. You need to find purely functional players who will completely support you. Let them set you up to perform, to score big. In a 50-point game, you need to be the one dropping 30, or even 40 points."
"You have to play one-on-one as much as possible and win in the coolest way you can. Because that’s the only way you’ll end up in the highlight reels, in the final cut of the show, and get noticed and loved by the audience."
As he spoke, Presti even took his pen and did the math for Durant.
One episode a week. In that week, each team plays four to five games. With thirty teams, that’s 120 to 150 games.
How could they possibly allocate enough time for all that in a 90-minute episode?
So if you don’t score big and put on a show, how are you going to get any screen time?
No screen time, no attention. Ever.
"Of course, the teammates you pick can’t be too weak, either. You still have to win games. At the very least, you have to make it to the playoffs."
"Have you noticed something? The trade deadline set by the show isn’t in the middle of the regular season, but after it ends."
Durant froze for a second, not quite understanding.
Presti turned back to the whiteboard and remarked with emotion, "Seriously, I don’t know if Chen came up with this show concept himself or if someone at ABC created it, but it’s brilliant. It’s the most perfect show."
"Look, the trade deadline is after the regular season ends. That means you have one last chance to adjust your team’s roster before the playoffs start."
"In other words, you’ll have the opportunity to trade for the captains of teams that didn’t make the playoffs."
Durant was stunned and quickly said, "But sir, there’s a salary cap."
Presti tapped the whiteboard. "You idiot, did you forget about the challenges? There will be a ton of challenges during the regular season. Completing them increases your salary cap. If you’re good enough to raise your cap to 30 million, then why couldn’t you pick two other captains as your teammates?"
Durant’s mouth fell slightly open. He understood.
Presti continued, "So our strategy is clear. During the regular season, find two functional players who will completely support you. You show off as much as possible, get high scores, complete all the challenges, steal the spotlight, and get attention."
"You don’t even have to care about your team’s record. As long as your individual performance is outstanding, even if you’re eliminated in the regular season, other team captains will trade for you to join their teams for the playoffs."
"In other words, 48 people will ultimately make it into the final tournament."
"By then, once the show has built up enough of a following, I think the production team will even start broadcasting the games live. The Grand Finals might even be televised nationally."
"Kevin, national television! As long as you can make it to the Grand Finals, believe me, you’ll gain an incredible amount of attention. You’ll become a rising star. You might even get a shoe deal like James before you even enter the NBA."
"So this really is a show, a show prepared specifically for promising rookies like you. And there’s only one thing you need to do: perform to the best of your ability and become the most dazzling player out there."
"Kevin, don’t you want to get into the NBA, become a millionaire, and change your life? Well, I can tell you that right now, this summer, that opportunity is right in front of you."
Durant’s jaw dropped, stunned by Presti’s words.
’If I do this,’ he couldn’t help but think, ’then the other 78 kids... maybe even more, over a hundred players... they’ll all just be part of the supporting cast.’
The few who succeeded in the end would truly be climbing on the crushed dreams of a hundred other kids.
For a sixteen-year-old Durant, this was too cruel, too shocking.
But when he thought of his own dream, of his mother working herself to the bone to raise him and support his basketball career, Durant’s gaze slowly hardened with resolve.
’This isn’t wrong!’
’When I walked out of that slum with the dream of making it to the NBA and becoming a star, I gave up everything. When I tortured myself in the dead of night, I had already left myself no way out.’
’If you want to succeed, you have to walk over the dreams of others.’