Link had not forgotten the first time he trained with Kobe before dawn.
Back then, it was during the All-Star Game. Back then, he was only an astonishing undrafted rookie. And Kobe was still ruling the league.
Back then, no one would have compared Link to Jordan.
Back then, Kobe could still easily crush Link one-on-one.
Back then, Kobe still had room to coach Link.
But what about now?
Link was nearly thirty. He had gone from a green undrafted rookie to a superstar holding three championship rings, and he was right in his prime.
Meanwhile, the superstar who had once ruled the league had already retired at home.
This year, Kobe Bryant was thirty-eight.
Los Angeles before dawn felt just like it had when Link first trained at that hour.
Quiet. Extremely quiet. Even the usual clamor of the great city of Los Angeles briefly subsided at this time of day.
There was one benefit to this silence: it allowed people to hear their own hearts. At times like this, the mind was incredibly clear.
So neither Kobe nor Link spoke. They simply gazed silently at the streets outside the window, at the sky that was still pitch-black but already showed a faint glimmer of dawn.
Each lost in his own thoughts.
Link and Kobe got out at the Venice Beach court. This famous Los Angeles streetball court was always packed during the day.
But at four in the morning, it was completely deserted, a stark contrast to its daytime bustle.
Link took a deep breath. In the sea breeze, even the air seemed to carry a salty taste.
The golden beach stretched along the road, dividing the view into two distinct worlds. On one side lay the endless Pacific Ocean, its waters a deep blue. On the other