Humiliated Instead

Fort Wayne, Indiana, was the state's second-largest city after Indianapolis.

Of course, it was also home to Indiana's second-best professional basketball team after the Pacers: the Fort Wayne Mad Ants.

The Fort Wayne Mad Ants were one of the few G League teams Link knew anything about. That wasn't because he'd ever followed G League news, but because the single-player mode in NBA 2K19 featured a protagonist who played for Fort Wayne.

That was the extent of Link's knowledge of the Mad Ants. After all, no game could show every aspect of a G League team.

Today, countless NBA scouts had gathered at the Mad Ants' home court, the Allen County War Memorial Coliseum.

First, they all wanted to see how the amazing Chinese American player who'd recorded a triple-double in the previous game would perform today.

Second, the scouts were eager to see whether Lance Stephenson could dominate the G League.

Unlike Link, who had suddenly appeared on everyone's radar, Stephenson had made a name for himself at a young age. Hailing from New York, he'd embarrassed plenty of adult streetball players while still in high school, and his talent had earned him a spot on the U18 National Team.

Yet just as he'd now been sent down to the G League, Stephenson had repeatedly derailed his own career with one off-court incident after another.

Still, most scouts considered Stephenson a prodigy. That made his matchup with Link a major spectacle.

"Link, you're starting today at small forward! Even though you're playing the three, I need you to guard Stephenson. No question, that troublemaker is the Mad Ants' top scorer. But I believe you can shut him down, just like you shut down Luke Ba Weiyuan last game."

Before the game, Conner focused his strategy on Link.

Link had played only one good game, but he was the only player Conner could trust.

Upshaw worked hard, but his ability was limited. As for Brockman... Stephenson would dribble him into the ground.

So whether Link's last game had been a fluke or proof of real ability, Conner had no choice but to give him a shot.

Stephenson was an NBA-caliber player, sent down only because of his temper!

"Brockman, same as last game: set plenty of screens for Link. When he calls for one, you get into position right away!"

Then Conner turned to Brockman. There was no question that Brockman's role had shifted from centerpiece to role player. He no longer needed to create offense with the ball. All he had to do was defend, set screens, and cut for dunks.

Conner had expected Brockman to push back hard, so he'd used a stern tone. To his surprise, Brockman simply nodded.

"Yeah, got it."

He sounded a little reluctant, but he agreed all the same.

Sure, he didn't like Link. But the last game had proved that working well with Link meant putting up good numbers and winning.

So unless Brockman was an idiot, he wouldn't pick another fight with Link.

Seeing that his teammates were willing to work with him, Link smiled. Now he'd finally get to experience what it had been like when James and Stephenson went head-to-head.

The G League wasn't on the NBA's level, but the basic routines were the same. Pregame warm-ups were no exception.

Link's accuracy on open shots was still excellent today. Grant Hill's shooting was quite steady at this point in his career.

If only he could combine an older Hill's shooting with prime Hill's athleticism... Link swallowed. He could only hope his system really could become that powerful.

"You're Link?"

As Link shot around and mulled things over, he heard someone call his name.

He turned around. The man approaching was none other than the notorious "Born Ready," Lance Stephenson.

Face-to-face with Stephenson, Link's first impression was that the man radiated menace.

His eyes were wide and fixed on Link like a snake staring down its prey.

"Lance, you can't just walk onto our half of the court during warm-ups," Link said, glancing around. Several of his teammates had already gathered nearby.

The Mad Ants' head coach, Steve Gansey, was clearly the most nervous. If Stephenson started trouble before the game even began, Gansey would be furious.

"What's wrong with it? The league doesn't say the other team's players can't cross half court during warm-ups. George talks about you all the time. You're stronger than I expected, Link."

"Really? Thanks for the compliment, Lance. I—"

"But basketball isn't about who's stronger. I know George speaks highly of you, but that's only because you were college teammates. I'll show you how brutal the NBA is, kid. If your coach happens to put you on me, you're in for a rough night."

With that, Stephenson turned and walked away.

Everyone looked baffled. This was Link and Stephenson's first meeting, and they had no history. Why had Stephenson gone out of his way to provoke him?

But that was Stephenson. If he thought like everyone else, he wouldn't have fallen to the second round.

Link shook his head, unfazed. He knew plenty of scouts had come to watch, and he wasn't about to waste his chance to shine.

"The game is about to begin, and this is undoubtedly one of the G League season's biggest matchups! Lance Stephenson, the former Son of New York, versus Link, the pride of Chinese Americans. Everyone is eager to see these two face off."

The commentator had barely finished when the referee tossed up the ball. The game was underway!

The Mad Ants' 7-foot-1 white center won the tip. The giant looked every bit as intimidating as Whiteside.

Link couldn't help thinking that in a few years, slow-footed big men like this might struggle to find a place even in the G League.

Lance Stephenson got the ball and dribbled across half court. A versatile guard standing 6-foot-5, Stephenson could play both point guard and shooting guard. When needed, he could even fill in at small forward.

Stephenson hadn't expected Link to pick him up so quickly, but the moment he crossed half court, Link was already pressuring him tightly.

"Link goes straight at Stephenson! The marquee matchup is starting early!"

Stephenson smiled. He didn't believe an average athlete like Link could guard him. Back at Rucker Park, he'd crossed up countless opponents, and he could do the same in the G League.

Stephenson might have had an odd personality, but he wasn't stupid. He knew Larry Bird thought highly of him. He also knew Bird had sent him down because he was disappointed in him.

So he was even more determined not to let Bird down in the G League.

Stephenson switched the ball from hand to hand, intent on driving. But after his first step, the more athletic Stephenson still couldn't get past Link!

"Link read him perfectly! His defense is airtight!"

The commentator cheered. The Chinese American wearing number five had already drawn plenty of attention. Even the commentator couldn't help calling the game from Link's perspective.

"Damn it!"

Stephenson gritted his teeth in frustration. He spun around and used his back to lean into Link, forcing his way forward. Near the free-throw line, he raised the ball.

It was a convincing pump fake—convincing enough that even Brockman got ready to fight for the rebound. But Link didn't bite. He didn't get faked into the air or jump into Stephenson. He stayed tight against him the whole time.

Even Steve Gansey, the Mad Ants' head coach, shook his head. If a college player ever asked him what textbook perimeter defense looked like, Gansey would show his team the footage of this possession.

He didn't bite on the fake, lose his position, or jump unnecessarily. Stephenson had surely never faced defense like this on the streetball courts of New York.

With Stephenson forced to a stop, he began anxiously searching for a teammate. But the shrewd Link gave him no opening. Seizing his chance, Link stripped the ball.

Stephenson lost control and was robbed. Just like that, his first mistake of the game handed Link a gift!

"He gets the steal! Can they turn it into a fast break?" the commentator cried, jumping to his feet.

On the court, Link still took his time. A number of fans had already noticed a hint of Grant Hill in him.

Link knew he wasn't fast enough to lead a break, so after only a couple of dribbles, he launched a long pass.

Brockman was charging downcourt. When he caught the ball, no one was in front of him!

The rest was simple. Brockman showed off his two-handed dunk, and the Blue Team scored the first point of the game in the most exciting way possible!

Another easy basket—that was why Brockman had stopped butting heads with Link. With Link around, scoring was a lot easier.

"Beautiful dunk, but Link deserves most of the credit for that possession. He shut down Stephenson right out of the gate. It'll be interesting to see what Stephenson does for the rest of the game."

After Brockman's dunk, Link spread his hands at Stephenson.

"You were right. Strength isn't what wins at basketball. It's brains." Link pointed to his head. His words and gesture clearly infuriated Stephenson.

Wasn't everyone always saying he had something wrong with his head?

He'd tried to intimidate Link, only to be humiliated instead. Stephenson was surely fuming.

Meanwhile, in the stands, who knew how many scouts had already written the same note in their notebooks:

"No matter what, he's worth taking a chance on with a 10-day contract."