Chapter 68 67: Of No Interest
A gust of cold wind blew past. Lin Shuyuan quickly pulled his jacket tighter, but the bone-chilling air still found its way into his collar, making him shiver. He couldn't help but mumble a curse under his breath. The moment he opened his mouth, however, the frigid wind rushed in, and he let out a violent sneeze. He felt absolutely miserable.
'Just as I thought. I knew this business trip would be a pain!' Otherwise, why would it fall to him, a rookie who had been at the *World Daily* for less than six months?
Indianapolis. The NFL Rookie Training Camp. Football. None of these keywords sounded particularly appealing. Although football was the number one sport in the United States, its commercial promotion overseas lagged far behind basketball and soccer. Its global audience was severely limited, to say nothing of its popularity back in China. Even within the Chinese Community in San Francisco, football fans were few and far between.
This time, a rookie of Chinese Descent had appeared at the Rookie Training Camp. After the news broke, it apparently caused quite a stir in Los Angeles for a while, but in San Francisco, it sank without a trace, completely ignored.
As the highest-selling and largest Chinese newspaper in the San Francisco area, the *World Daily* had naturally received the news right away, but they weren't very interested either, merely running the standard, perfunctory report. As for the Rookie Training Camp, they had no intention of doing any follow-up coverage. For one, nobody cared, and for another, the rookie probably wouldn't even get drafted. It wasn't just the *World Daily*; their two biggest local competitors, the *Overseas Chinese Newspaper* and the *Sing Tao Daily*, had no plans for follow-up coverage either.
Recently, however, the *World Daily* had been short on material. News of a new barbershop opening in Chinatown had even made the front page; the quality of their journalism had taken a nosedive. And so, the editor-in-chief made an executive decision to follow up on the story of this rookie of Chinese Descent, and now here he was, the poor bastard, in Indianapolis.
'Indianapolis. This has to be one of the most boring cities in the United States. If it weren't for this story, I probably would have gone my whole life without ever visiting this place.'
Taking a deep breath, Lin Shuyuan tried to rally his spirits. 'Since I'm already here, I might as well do a good job on this report. After all, this is my first official feature story as a journalist. If I do well, maybe I'll get more opportunities. I might even get a chance to jump ship to a major paper like the *San Francisco Chronicle* or the *Los Angeles Times*...'
A rookie walked toward him, wearing the official jersey issued by the Rookie Training Camp. It was a dark blue, moisture-wicking T-shirt with a design printed on the chest. The top half was the number "16," and the bottom half was a two-letter abbreviation: "WR."
Lin Shuyuan knew nothing about football, but he had crammed a ton of knowledge for this Rookie Training Camp. He knew that "WR" meant Wide Receiver. He immediately hurried over. "Good morning. Excuse me, a rookie of Chinese Descent has appeared in this year's Rookie Training Camp. What are your thoughts on that?"
"No opinion." The rookie looked confused, as if he didn't understand the question. He shrugged. "At the end of the day, this is a stage to prove yourself. Your ability has to do the talking. So, every one of us needs to give it our all and hope we can put on a great performance."
Seeing the rookie was about to leave, Lin Shuyuan, unsure how to proceed with the interview, blurted out in desperation, "So, do you think he'll be drafted? The rookie of Chinese Descent, I mean."
"Obviously, that decision isn't up to me. If I could make predictions, I'd be more concerned with what round I'll get drafted in," the rookie said with a chuckle. He didn't linger, walking around Lin Shuyuan and heading for the bus parked at the hotel entrance—the official transportation that would take them directly to Lucas Oil Stadium.
Lin Shuyuan froze, his feet rooted to the spot. He immediately realized how stupid his last question had been. But before he could collect his thoughts, he saw two middle-aged men in suits walking toward him. They both wore staff credentials, a counterpart to Lin Shuyuan's media pass. They looked like team managers or administrative staff.
Lin Shuyuan immediately went up to them. "Excuse me, a rookie of Chinese Descent has appeared in this year's Rookie Training Camp. Do you have any particular thoughts on that?"
"Who?" The middle-aged man on the left looked completely baffled. The single-word question left Lin Shuyuan speechless. Thankfully, the man on the right came to his rescue. "The one from UCLA. A rookie of Chinese Descent." The first man's face cleared with understanding, then he shook his head. "No, not interested." With that, the two resumed walking, heading toward the parking lot on the other side.
In just a single exchange, before he could even engage, Lin Shuyuan was utterly defeated. He hadn't even had a chance to use his reporter's trademark persistence before being shot down instantly.
He had originally thought that a rookie of Chinese Descent appearing for the second year in a row at an NFL Rookie Training Camp—a place where Asian players were virtually nonexistent—would be a big enough gimmick to spark some heated discussion. But clearly, things weren't going as he'd hoped. People simply didn't care.
On second thought, it wasn't that surprising. For one, it wasn't just football; across all major team sports—soccer, basketball, volleyball—China's performance was lackluster. The women's volleyball team was the last remaining fig leaf. Naturally, people's expectations weren't high. For another, football had yet to break into the market in China and had no commercial value. A rookie of Chinese Descent merely attending a training camp wasn't worth any attention or hype. This wasn't Yao Ming landing in the NBA.
Lin Shuyuan felt his enthusiasm wane even further. He had a growing feeling that he would be going home from this trip empty-handed. Still, work was work. When another group of people appeared, Lin Shuyuan forced himself to perk up and went to meet them.
"I think this might be a strong draft year."
"Yeah, I agree! Especially at quarterback. There are a lot of good prospects this year."
"I'm not so sure. The Defense Team has a huge class of highly-anticipated rising stars this year. I think the defensive players might have a better showing."
"The other positions are looking good too. I saw a few Wide Receivers and Tight Ends with great fundamentals."
"That's right, and the running backs! There are more running backs in this camp than any other position."
"It's been a long, long time since we've seen a draft class like this!"
Adam Klein, Blake Simmons, and a large crowd of other scouts left the hotel, bustling with conversation and laughter as they prepared to head to the training camp. For them, the coming days were when they would finally see the results of their hard work over the entire past season.
Adam was walking near the front on the right when he saw a reporter with an Asian face rush over. He quickly came to a stop. The reporter raised his voice to ask, "Excuse me, a rookie of Chinese Descent has appeared in this year's Rookie Training Camp. What do you all think of him?"
"You mean the Chinese-American quarterback, right?" Compared to the others, the scouts' knowledge of the players was far more profound. There were 332 rookies in the training camp this year, and they could clearly recall every player's name, position, and basic profile. They could pull up information on any of them at a moment's notice.
Lin Shuyuan's face lit up, and he nodded repeatedly. "Yes, that's him!"
"It's already tough enough for a player of Chinese Descent, and on top of that, this is a strong year for quarterbacks. It's going to be a long shot."
"There's too little data on that player of Chinese Descent; it's of no reference value. I don't know how he'll perform in the camp. I saw him briefly yesterday. His height is adequate, but he's too thin. Not enough muscle mass. I get the sense that his explosiveness, balance, field vision, and raw strength are all lacking."
"Asian players are just too lacking in the physical department. I'm still not optimistic we'll see an Asian player in the NFL this year."
...
The voices chattered on. Without Lin Shuyuan even needing to ask, a flood of information came rushing at him, but none of it was good news. Even though Lin Shuyuan had been mentally prepared for this—to this day, there had never been a single starting player of Asian descent in professional football, an iron-clad fact—hearing it all stated so bluntly still left him feeling dejected.
"Haven't you guys watched the tape?" Blake couldn't help but speak up in the prospect's defense. "His on-field decision-making and his release are both commendable." To this day, the performance in the final two minutes of the Rose Bowl remained deeply impressive to him.
Blake looked back at his colleagues and raised his voice. "Every year, quarterbacks are the most sought-after position. To be more precise, the question isn't 'who needs a quarterback' but 'who *doesn't* need a quarterback.' With Peyton Manning's injury this year, the Little Horse Team is in a bind. Maybe they'll have to pick a quarterback, too. You never know."
"Blake, you can't be that naive, can you? That was just a flash in the pan. Honestly, a dozen or two players have a momentary burst like that every year, and then they all just disappear." The rebuttals came one after another, a wave of dissenting voices, with others chiming in. "That's right, his physicals are just terrible. No team is going to take that risk. Forget the first six rounds; even picking him in the seventh would be too risky. The stats don't lie, and the scouting reports don't lie."
"Not necessarily." This time, it was Adam who spoke. As a veteran among the scouts, his words carried weight, and everyone turned to look at him.
"Adam, what's your take on it?" someone called out.
Adam shrugged. "I don't have a strong opinion. I just think you can't rely on stats for everything. Otherwise, the current crop of elite quarterbacks wouldn't be who they are."
With that, Adam said no more. He walked around the reporter and strode forward. The other scouts, chattering and voicing their own opinions, got into a heated discussion and followed him. In the blink of an eye, Lin Shuyuan was left standing alone, utterly bewildered:
'What on earth did that last sentence mean? Why couldn't I understand it?'