Sports Medicine Master System

Curry’s team, the Grand Canyon, was the first to score 25 points, heading into halftime.

Harden came off the court panting heavily, feeling like he was about to have an asthma attack.

He couldn’t resist turning to look at Curry walking off the court on the opposite side, silently complaining to himself.

’Is this guy a long-distance runner?’

’Otherwise, how can he run so much?’

Just running would be one thing, but Curry’s movement was incredibly efficient. He coordinated well with Green, using his screens to shake him off.

It wasn’t just mindless running, either. He would control the pace, slowing his steps, and then, just as Harden’s attention shifted—for instance, when Green and McGee were passing back and forth to attack the rim—he would suddenly explode into an open spot.

McGee and Green were clearly prepared for it too. Whenever Curry found an open spot, they always managed to get the ball to him in time.

That kind of movement was infuriating. It made him look stupid, like he couldn’t guard his man at all, constantly letting his opponent get wide open.

Sure enough, the moment he stepped off the court, Presti grabbed him and started yelling at him to be more focused.

Harden felt wronged. He couldn’t just glue his eyes to Curry and completely ignore the rest of the game, could he?

"Kevin, you’re playing great. Watch your mentality. That kid on the other team is doing it on purpose. Don’t let him get to you." Presti then found Durant and showered him with praise.

At the half, the Devil’s Mountain team had 22 points, with Durant single-handedly scoring 17 of them—a practically perfect performance.

Durant grabbed a bottle of Gatorade and took a drink.

He took one sip and nearly spit it out.

Only then did he realize how awful this stuff tasted. It wasn’t the same as the Gatorade sold in stores.

The Gatorade sold in stores was pretty expensive, and coming from a poor family, Durant couldn’t really afford it. He had heard that the drinks provided at the event were also sponsored by Gatorade and were the exact same kind the NBA players drank. He’d been fantasizing about it, but now, with a single sip, that fantasy was completely shattered.

Hearing Presti’s words, Durant nodded. Green had really gotten him angry.

The kid was overly physical on defense, and whenever the ref blew the whistle, he was always the first one to complain, acting like he was the one who’d been wronged.

While playing tight defense, the trash talk never stopped. He got creative, calling Durant as skinny as a monkey and saying he ran like a shriveled-up zombie.

The only line he hadn’t crossed was insulting Durant’s mother. Otherwise, Durant would have definitely thrown a couple of punches.

"Pass the ball and spread the floor. Kevin’s iso is our sharpest weapon, and we need to make good use of it. And DeAndre, when Kevin calls for a screen, you need to get up there immediately, understand?" Presti then looked toward DeAndre Jordan.

DeAndre Jordan nodded glumly, already feeling a little resentful.

’Sure, Durant is the captain, and yeah, his one-on-one game is insane, but Harden and I aren’t just decorations, are we?’

’Harden has a soft personality, and his only job is to pass the ball, so it’s understandable that he doesn’t say anything. But what about me? I’m under the basket fighting for rebounds, providing help defense and rim protection, and I have to come out to set screens. I’m doing all the dirty work, and what’s the result? I barely get any chances to shoot.’

’Okay, so my skills are raw and I don’t have many offensive moves. But whether the shot goes in or not is one thing; you can’t just not give me a chance at all.’

’After all, my contract is worth seven million, not like Harden’s three-million-dollar deal, which is the lowest tier.’

If he got the chance, he was determined to stage an upset and become captain.

He wanted that three-million-dollar sponsorship contract, too.

"Coach, I should get more involved in the offense. I can score more points," DeAndre Jordan said directly. Being young and straightforward, he didn’t hold back his thoughts.

Presti froze for a second. Without even thinking it over, he immediately shook his head. "No. If we want to win, we have to let Kevin handle the offense. You just focus on protecting the rim."

Those words made DeAndre Jordan’s anger flare up again.

But he was still just a high school student. In high school, head coaches were dictators—overbearing and unreasonable—so he was able to tolerate it.

During the 10-minute halftime break, Negro wasn’t idle either.

Drawing on the NBA’s established practices, he organized a fan interaction event: a shooting contest with a prize.

The prize money was only one hundred dollars, though.

The team management aspect wasn’t particularly interesting, and it wasn’t the show’s main focus. The primary goal was to let the high school students, like Curry, and the general audience understand how the NBA operates.

In Chen Yu’s plan, it would be a success if this part of the show simply didn’t end up costing too much to produce.

Hill went onto the court himself to award the lucky fan the one hundred dollar prize. After fulfilling a few autograph requests, he sat back down next to Chen Yu, nudged him with his elbow, and said in a low voice, "Chen, Stephen’s style of play is pretty distinctive."

Chen Yu nodded. "It just goes to show, everyone’s different. Since he’s undersized and lacks the physical tools, he has no choice but to play this way."

"If he had a body like James or a wingspan like Durant, he wouldn’t need to run around looking for open spots at all."

Hill then asked, "By the way, the league is eliminating the handcheck next season. What’s the analysis from your team of professionals? Will it have any effect on playstyles?"

He knew that many active players came to train with Chen Yu every summer, and this year, because of the rule change, Chen Yu had organized a so-called "adaptation training camp."

Chen Yu had gathered a large number of professional trainers and had such a good relationship with the league; he was bound to have some special insights.

Speaking of which, Chen Yu smiled. "Without a doubt, it’s going to be advantageous for you and for Tracy."

"Once handchecking is gone, for a player like you with one of the quickest first steps in the league, or for someone like Tracy McGrady with his incredible athletic gifts and skill at attacking the rim, it’s basically like getting a buff. Your offense will become even easier and more potent."

"Second, a looser defensive environment on the perimeter also benefits outside shooting—three-pointers, that is. So this summer, your main task is to work on your three-point shot."

Hill’s three-point shot wasn’t good. He took few attempts and had a low percentage; he just wasn’t a shooter.

His scoring came mainly from drives and mid-range jumpers.

But with the league’s environment changing, practicing his three-pointer to add another tool to his kit was definitely a good idea.

Hill nodded, then laughed self-deprecatingly. "Does this mean I’ll have to start rolling iron balls in my hands like Jason?"

"That won’t be necessary."

Hill’s touch was already soft, unlike J Kidd’s, which was brick-hard.

"By the way, you guys should really go for it this season," Chen Yu said after a moment’s hesitation. "Personally, I think next year might be your best chance to win the championship. It might also be your last."

This wasn’t just idle talk.

First, since the Phoenix Suns had chosen to trade McDyess, it was clear they had shifted their team-building strategy.

Even setting aside the financial factors, Brian probably knew deep down that winning the championship again next year was nearly impossible.

And in the West, with the Phoenix Suns no longer dominant, the Spurs were highly likely to emerge.

The GDP trio was developing rapidly.

However, Duncan’s advancing age and the need to find a competent center to ease the pressure on him remained the Spurs’ most urgent problems.

Mutombo was serviceable, but that was all. He was simply too old.

Besides the Spurs, Chen Yu also had his eye on the Lakers in the West.

The elimination of handchecking was a massive buff for every guard in the league.

Kobe included.

Chen Yu had a feeling that Kobe’s stats would explode next season.

And after two seasons of development, Yao Ming was also steadily maturing. The Lakers could potentially make a sudden surge and return to the top of the West.

As for other teams like the Mavericks, Kings, and Wolves, they couldn’t even make it out of the West, so they posed no real threat to the Magic.

In the East, as long as the Magic could get past the Pistons, they were practically guaranteed a spot in the Eastern Conference Finals.

This year, they held the first overall pick. If they could just trade it for a mature, in-his-prime center, they might really have a shot at the championship.

But if that push failed, how much money would the stingy Magic management be willing to spend to improve the roster?

After so many years, Hill’s and Tracy McGrady’s patience was likely wearing thin.

Add to that the rise of the Lakers and Spurs in the West, and if the Magic couldn’t seize this window of opportunity next season, they might never get another chance to win a title.

After hearing Chen Yu’s analysis, Hill was lost in thought.

He knew full well that winning an NBA championship required the stars to align.

In the past, you also had to worry about whether players would get injured.

But now, with Chen Yu around, that was no longer a major concern.

But it still came down to luck and fate.

And just as Chen Yu had said, even though the great ship of the Phoenix Suns was changing course, the rising powers in the West wouldn’t leave them a long window of opportunity.

If they didn’t win it all next year, they might really never get another chance.

"I understand," Hill sighed, nodding dejectedly.

People’s fates are different. Look at O’Neal—how many championships did he win after leaving the Magic?

Then there was Hardaway. After meeting Chen Yu, his career skyrocketed. With three championships in hand, his legacy was complete.

Of that old group, he was the only one left.

He was about to turn 32 himself. His body was still in good shape, but for how many more years could he keep it up?

Following Ewing’s example and ring-chasing on another team wasn’t what Hill wanted.

When the second half started, Durant’s team still hadn’t managed to catch up.

Chen Yu saw several problems.

First, the strategy Presti had chosen was too simplistic. He just had Durant in constant isolation, giving him way too many shots and completely treating Harden and DeAndre Jordan like set pieces.

Of course, considering the show’s purpose, Chen Yu couldn’t say that choice was necessarily wrong.

The problem was, Chen Yu felt that the current Durant couldn’t handle that high of a usage rate. Chen Yu hadn’t seen the exact stats, but he estimated Durant had taken at least thirty or forty shots.

That was a terrifying number.

Especially with Green hounding him on defense, his shooting percentage wasn’t that high.

Durant himself had a problem, too: his stamina couldn’t hold up.

Toward the end, Chen Yu could clearly see he was gassed, but Presti kept telling him to shoot.

Curry’s team, on the other hand, was much more balanced.

While the ball distribution was weighted toward Curry, his shot selection was sound. He still managed to drop a respectable 27 points, an outstanding performance.

In this respect, one could only conclude that Presti’s tactical choices were highly questionable.

If he was allowed to coach like this, it might work for a game or two, but over the long term, it was inevitable that problems would arise within the team.

Would DeAndre Jordan and Harden really be content just playing supporting roles?