score maniac

Chapter 35: I Can’t Take It Anymore

The Summer League games continued. The Kings, a team built around young players and focused on the future, saw many of their regular-season starters take the court in the Summer League. This is not a common sight on the NBA Summer League courts. As everyone knows, the Summer League serves as a crucial stepping stone for fringe players looking to break into the NBA. In the previous game against the Timberwolves, having a player of Kevin Love’s caliber play for more than half the game was already considered a risky move for other teams. Yet the Kings’ current core players, both inside and out, are precisely two players still in their rookie seasons. “Over here, over here! Pass it already!!!” Two days after the game against the Timberwolves, the Kings continued their Summer League campaign, taking on the Milwaukee Bucks. Judging by their regular-season records in recent years, the Bucks and the Kings are in the same boat—neither team is particularly strong. For teams like these, languishing at the bottom of the league, the importance of the Summer League goes without saying. In this game that drew little attention, most of the media and fans in attendance were there to see how the Kings’ two rookies would perform. “Clang!” “Holy crap…!” On the court, the game had reached the middle of the third quarter, with the score at 75–61—the Kings trailing by a wide margin. Evans missed a completely senseless mid-range shot, and the Kings players all cursed under their breath. Only one person, however, let his frustration out loud right there on the court. “What the hell are you doing??” Before Evans could even get back on defense, Gu Yu had already launched into a tirade from half-court, glaring at Evans with fury. “…Hmph.” As the Rookie of the Year, why would Evans care about Gu Yu’s feelings? However, after their previous spat in the hotel hallway, Evans knew that this guy with the Asian-style haircut—setting aside his skills—had a truly explosive temper, so he didn’t dare to lose his cool outright. After being berated by Gu Yu, Evans shrugged and headed back on defense, not even glancing at Gu Yu as he passed by. “Teamwork! Aren’t you the point guard? You’re not running the offense—you’re just playing recklessly on your own. What kind of point guard are you, anyway??” Gu Yu’s cut just now was anything but half-hearted. With Cousins posting up under the basket, he executed a beautiful play with the Kings’ future star in the paint—a masterful off-ball screen that sent him cutting to his sweet spot. At that moment, Evans was dribbling down the strong side toward the middle. Over on Cousins’ side, he had completely shut down Gu Yu’s defender; all Evans needed to do was send a one-handed pass his way, and Gu Yu could have scored easily. However, Evans had no intention of passing at all; he went for it on his own. While his series of dribble moves was dazzling, his final shot was too forced and clanged off the front of the rim. “Tyrese!” On the sidelines, Westphal was getting restless. He stood up, cupped his hands around his mouth, glared at Evans, and shouted, “Pass the ball! Pay attention to your teammates’ positions!” “…Hmph.” Evans paid no heed to this. He shot the old coach a glance, acted as if he hadn’t heard a word, turned his head, and sprinted off, leaving Westphal fuming. “The Kings seem to be having… some internal issues out there!” Over in the press box, a reporter frowned as he watched the Kings’ disjointed offense and defense, shaking his head slowly. “Evans probably thinks the outcome of the Summer League doesn’t matter—it’s all about showing off anyway—so he might as well take the shot himself whenever he gets the chance, rather than playing as part of a team.” “He doesn’t trust his teammates!” another reporter nodded. “At the start of the game, that veteran rookie Jeter was actually playing pretty well—his passing was on point, and his offensive organization was steady. Why not let him stay in the game? What is Westphal thinking??” “Oh, you don’t know anything!” A veteran reporter smiled slightly, folded his arms across his chest, and said calmly, “Don’t be fooled by the fact that this Kings team is mostly made up of young players—their overall style of play is lackluster. Westphal was never a tactical mastermind to begin with, and he’s terrible at bringing the team together. Aside from Cousins, none of the other players have any real ability to create their own shots, so they’re just left to rely on flashy plays!” That one remark—who knows how many people it offended—but it was the truth, prompting everyone to nod in agreement. “Watch out at the high post!!” Just then, the Bucks went on the attack. A flawless high-post screen completely blocked out the Kings’ first line of defense—Evans. The Bucks’ point guard made a nimble drive, drawing Cousins out to help defend. Near the free-throw line, the point guard bounced the ball off the floor with one hand and fed it to the cutting center, who slammed it home with both hands. “Baaaaaa—!!!” The Bucks center, having just completed the dunk, was ecstatic, letting out a roar that sent the energy soaring. As a role player, scoring against this year’s high draft pick, Cousins, would undoubtedly be a major boost to his NBA career. “…Forget about it, let’s keep attacking!” Cousins was somewhat regretful about his defensive decision. Westphal saw it and was anxious inside, but all he could do was shout a word of encouragement—he didn’t know what else to say. There was nothing to be done. Watching Gu Yu and Cousins constantly running back and forth on the court to no avail—with the ball constantly bouncing back and forth between Evans’ hands—Westphal’s silver hair was practically turning gray with frustration. Although this style of play was undoubtedly damaging to the team, still… “…Whoa!!!” On the court, Evans executed a beautiful dribble move down the middle. After a feint and a quick stop, he turned his back to the basket and drove toward the paint, pulling off an incredibly flashy behind-the-back dribble before finishing with a juggling-like crossover layup in mid-air—drawing a thunderous ovation from the entire arena. He was a total crowd-pleaser. Westphal sat back down in his seat, resting his hands on his knees, leaning forward with his lips tightly pursed. Evans’ style of play was simply irresistible—not only did the fans cheer, but waves of admiration even rose from the media section. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk—you’re no match for him~~” After finishing the play, Evans wagged his finger at the defender and strutted back on defense with a smug look on his face, drawing even more screams from the fans along the sidelines. Experts see the intricacies; laypeople just enjoy the spectacle. Although there are plenty of true NBA fans who can tell that something’s off about Evans’s style of play, for most fans, they aren’t here to watch rigid offensive tactics, shooters cutting to the basket, or post-ups in the paint. In an era that encourages perimeter offense and drives to the basket, Evans’ style of play is practically tailor-made for the box office—as long as he’s on the court, the Kings’ attendance is guaranteed. “It’d be great if we could improve our record, but if that can’t be guaranteed, then you’d better guarantee us good attendance!” Westphal still remembers the words the Maloof brothers, the team’s owners, said to him on his first day as head coach of the Kings. As a true small-market team, the Kings’ attendance has consistently ranked among the league’s highest. Even after the glory days of the Princeton offense had passed, the Kings still enjoyed high attendance figures that bore no relation to their on-court performance. On the one hand, this was naturally due to Sacramento’s loyal fans. On the other hand, it was also tied to the team management’s overall business strategy. Can we compete for a winning record? That would be ideal, of course. Can’t compete for a winning record? Then at least tank with some style! Under this management philosophy, Westphal had no choice but to do his job and meet management’s demands as best he could. To keep his job, he had to put up with it… “For fuck’s sake, what the hell are you doing?!” But on the court, there was one person who couldn’t take it anymore.