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NBA: No. 1 Forward

Chapitre 1: Second Chance: No. 1 jersey

Frederick Douglass Boulevard, 155th Street, Harlem, 2022

Rock Park, nestled in the heart of Harlem, is the beating heart of New York's streetball culture. Revered by basketball enthusiasts, this park is a mecca where legends are born and celebrated. From early pioneers to modern stars like the Bone Collector and the Professor, and even retired NBA player Ralph Alston, Rock Park has seen it all.

The park is famous for its electrifying atmosphere. Fancy dribbles, lightning-fast play, explosive dunks, and the roaring cheers of fans create an unforgettable experience. Amidst this excitement, a distinguished man sitting on a bench catches everyone's eye. He looks out of place yet completely at ease. Reclining casually with a bottle of beer, his black sweater open to reveal a well-defined chest and abs, he exudes strength and power. His chiseled features and striking face add to his unique allure.

This is Lian Dao, a Chinese choreographer and basketball trainer. Born in 2000, Lian Dao moved to New York at 14 to study at Hackley Middle School. He excelled academically in China and was thrilled to study in the birthplace of basketball.

Standing at 183cm with a wingspan of 203cm, Lian Dao made the school basketball team in his first year of high school. However, his streetball-influenced style—flashy dribbles and a good mid-range shot but weak defense—didn't sit well with his coach, who limited his playing time for two years.

In 2006, his parents' company relocated to Silicon Valley, and Lian Dao transferred to Whitney High School in California. He joined the basketball team and, in his senior year, helped achieve the school's best record (20W, 8L), reaching the Southern California Interstate League semifinals. This performance caught the attention of some NCAA colleges.

Despite his height, wingspan, and ball-handling skills, Lian Dao's average physical fitness and lack of confrontation skills discouraged some universities, including Arizona State and Stanford. He chose the University of Southern California (USC) for its strong basketball team and its top-ranked School of Film and Television Arts.

Tim, the Trojans' coach, reviewed Lian Dao's physical test results with mixed feelings. Lian Dao's height and wingspan, combined with his strong ball control and three-point shooting, set him apart in high school. But in the NCAA, where the best talents converge, he seemed average. His physical fitness and resilience were lacking compared to the more muscular players.

Standing at 203cm with a wingspan of 223cm, Lian Dao's stature alone would catch NBA scouts' eyes. But basketball is about more than height and wingspan; physical fitness and innate abilities are equally critical. Despite his concerns, Tim kept Lian Dao on the team.

Unfortunately, during his sophomore year, Lian Dao suffered a severe ankle fracture, forcing him to quit college basketball. This was a significant blow to Tim, who had already lost key players to scandals and needed new talent to fill the gaps.

A teammate's taunt, "Your shooting's as successful as a plumber in a sewer! You'd do better at home raising kids. I could make that shot in my sleep," further frustrated Lian Dao. The player's unkind words questioned Lian Dao's overall skills.

Lian Dao smiled and shook his head, reminiscing about his energetic past. Finishing his beer, he crushed the can effortlessly and tossed it into a trash can several meters away. As he straightened his sweater to leave, he noticed an old jersey draped over the bench. The vibrant No. 1 on it puzzled him. He hadn't seen it there earlier, and it seemed unlikely someone had placed it there without his noticing.

Nearby, a man in a Lakers jersey, No. 24, embodied the spirit of the Mamba. As Lian Dao scanned the crowd, he noticed no other No. 1 jerseys, except for a few women winking at him. To his surprise, a handsome white boy also winked at him, which made Lian Dao think he must be seeing things.

"Damn," Lian Dao muttered. He hadn't anticipated running into trouble today. The girls' winks were one thing, but when a man did the same, it shocked him.

Lian Dao quickly snatched the jersey from the bench and fled the field, fearing he might lose his temper and do something regrettable. With the jersey in hand, he hurriedly left Rock Park. As he opened his parked car, he realized he had taken a jersey that didn't belong to him but dismissed any concern about its owner. He casually tossed it onto the passenger seat.

Arriving home, Lian Dao lay on his bed, his mind in a haze. He attributed it to the beer and drifted off to sleep. Unbeknownst to him, the jersey began to disintegrate and dissolve, transforming into tiny, luminous particles that hovered above him. These particles took the form of glowing fireflies, resembling the outline of a jersey suspended in the air.

Suddenly, the ethereal jersey descended slowly, merging with Lian Dao's body. It dissolved into his skin and vanished without a trace.