A Hardworking G League Player (Seeking Recommendation Votes)

Link didn't know how Yao Ming had felt on his first flight to Houston, but he himself was nothing but nervous.

The moment he stepped off the plane, Link spotted a large crowd of fans gathered outside the airport. They held up signs reading "Welcome to Houston" and cheered for him.

But Link also noticed that almost everyone who had come to greet him was yellow-skinned. Some might be Chinese-Americans, some might be Chinese nationals. Clearly, native American fans weren't very interested in Link.

After all, Yao Ming had been the number one pick back then, while Link was just an undrafted player.

Link wasn't some big star, so he waved amiably at the fans. He wanted to give a few young fans autographs, but Carl Jones pulled him into the car.

"Welcome to Houston, buddy. I'm Anthony Oakes, low-post coach for the Houston Rockets. Today, I'm here on behalf of the Rockets to welcome you."

As soon as he got into the van, a black man shook Link's hand.

"We've got a lot to do today, Link. First, you need to attend a press conference. Then, you'll go to a fan carnival event. In the evening..."

"Wait..." Before Anthony Oakes could finish, Link cut him off.

Link knew it was rude, but he couldn't hold it back anymore.

"In that case, when do I get to the practice facility? As far as I know, tomorrow, December 6th, the Rockets have a game. I came here to play basketball, right? But if I don't practice with the team, how am I supposed to play?"

Hearing Link's challenge, Anthony Oakes glanced at Carl Jones, who immediately stepped in to smooth things over.

"Don't rush, Link. Let's finish the necessary procedures first. You'll have your time to shine. Today is only the second day of our ten-day contract. You still have plenty of chances to show what you've got. Take it easy, buddy."

Since Jones put it that way, Link had no choice but to relent and nod slightly.

So the rest of the day, Link spent in fake smiles. It wasn't that he disliked the fans supporting him; it was that he'd started to question his purpose for coming to Houston.

The endless commercial activities bored Link. He wanted to play basketball earnestly and stay in the NBA, not become someone else's money-making tool.

Link knew that once your hype faded, who would still need you? When that time came, he'd definitely be kicked out. Then the capitalists would find the next "inspirational Chinese-American" to keep cashing in.

After being "tortured" for a day, Link did earn a few tens of thousands of dollars, but he wasn't happy. He hadn't signed an NBA contract for a mere few tens of thousands. He believed Upshaw hadn't wanted him to go to the NBA just to make quick money either.

Upshaw had placed all his NBA fantasies and aspirations on Link.

Thinking about it, Link lying in bed slowly closed his eyes. Tomorrow, the Houston Rockets would host the Detroit Pistons at home. He didn't know if he'd get a chance to play, but if he did, Link would definitely grab his "lifeline."

December 6, 2010. The NBA regular season continued. The marquee matchup of the day was the Thunder versus the Bulls. The duel between Kevin Durant and Derrick Rose, two young talents, had fans incredibly excited.

But the showdown between the Houston Rockets and the Detroit Pistons also drew attention.

Indeed, neither the Pistons nor the Rockets were league powerhouses anymore. The Rockets were struggling on the edge of the playoffs, while the Pistons had long since fallen out of the Eastern Conference top eight.

Even so, for two reasons, tickets for this game at the Toyota Center were still hard to come by.

The first reason was that Tracy McGrady, after joining the Pistons, would return to the Toyota Center. Although his departure from the Rockets hadn't been entirely amicable, McGrady had given his prime years to Houston.

That miraculous 35-second, 13-point performance was still a hot topic among fans. A former hero returning to his old home—that kind of theme was always very appealing.

The second reason this game had become a spectacle was that, following Yao Ming, another Chinese player might represent the Rockets in a game. Although Link was a Chinese-American, he was 100% Chinese by blood. Therefore, he received attention far beyond his actual skill level.

But for veteran Rockets coach Rick Adelman, this was just an ordinary regular-season game. His only focus was winning. The Pistons weren't a strong team, and the Rockets, hovering near the playoff line, needed to win every game they were supposed to win and fight for every victory.

So he arrived early at the Toyota Center practice facility to prepare thoroughly for the day's game.

As soon as Adelman approached the practice facility, he heard the "thump, thump" of a dribbling ball coming from inside the door.

At first, Adelman didn't think much of it. He knew that Rockets staff sometimes shot a few hoops when no one was around. But when Adelman pushed open the practice facility door, he froze.

"Who are you?" Adelman stared at the man in the Rockets practice jersey, number 5, completely baffled. But he regretted the question as soon as he asked it.

Because he suddenly remembered who this guy was—it was that G League player Morey had recently signed.

"My name is Tom Lin. Everyone calls me Link. Good morning, Mr. Rick Adelman!"

Seeing the head coach so familiar to Chinese fans standing right in front of him, Link was no longer as nervous. He'd already been through too many similar situations in the past few days.

"Uh... you're here this early to practice?" Adelman gave an awkward smile.

"Yeah, I know I have to work harder to keep up with everyone. So I can only use the morning time." Link scratched his head. Even though recent events had been frustrating, Link had never slacked off on his training or his demands on himself.

Through this period of hard work, the white bar in front of Link's eyes was nearly half full. It wouldn't be long before he could successfully level up.

In competitive sports, strength was the hard currency. So to level up as soon as possible, Link never dared to relax his self-discipline.

"Hmm, you're hardworking, kid. Keep it up."

With that, Adelman walked back to his office without saying anything more.

From serving as an assistant coach for the Trail Blazers in 1983 to now, Adelman had been in the NBA for decades. He knew very well that sometimes, hard work alone really wasn't enough.

What impressive credentials did Link have before this? A triple-double in a game against Luke Ba Weiyuan, a double-double in a game against Lance Stephenson. In the eyes of the NBA, such achievements were utterly insignificant.

Adelman sighed. What a pity for that burning heart. The veteran coach knew full well that Morey had signed Link just to attract attention. The tickets for today's game had been swept clean, and Morey had already achieved his goal.

In truth, there was no place for Link in Adelman's system. Signing Link wasn't Adelman's idea; it was purely a business decision by Morey. Link was just a cash cow, nothing more. If Link's agent hadn't also been a rookie and a money-grubber, that Chinese-American would never have come to Houston.

Shaking his head, Adelman didn't give the undrafted player another thought. Right now, his most important task was still to play a good game against the Pistons.

As for players like Link... in ten days, who would even remember them?

Luis Scola was playing brilliantly today. He had once been one of Link's favorite big men. The Argentine wasn't particularly athletic or physically gifted. But with his soft touch and beautiful footwork in the post, Scola at his peak was a low-post powerhouse.

This season, without Yao Ming, Scola's average points per game had risen to 18.3, making him one of the Rockets' most important scoring options.

And today, Scola's performance left Link dumbfounded. The undersized Pistons power forward, Jason Maxiell, was no match for Scola at all. The Argentine played like a man possessed, carving through the defense with ease to score a game-high 35 points.

Thanks to Scola's stellar play, the game entered garbage time early. So with 1 minute and 48 seconds left on the clock, the Pistons trailed by 18 points.

In this era, where the three-point shot had yet to dominate, cutting an 18-point deficit in 1:48 was basically impossible. Even though the Pistons had McGrady, he couldn't pull off a 13-point-in-35-seconds miracle every game.

"Congratulations, Rick. The game's in garbage time. We've got this one in the bag."

On the bench, a Rockets assistant coach had already started hugging Adelman, celebrating the victory. For this season's Rockets, every win was worth savoring.

Now, Adelman had one last task: sending in the garbage-time lineup.

He initially planned to put in Jared Jeffries, but after catching sight of Link's burning gaze from the far end of the bench, the veteran coach suddenly changed his mind.

Link's intense stare and his hardworking presence were hard for Adelman to forget. Sure, Morey might have signed him for publicity, but that wasn't the Chinese-American player's intention. To put it bluntly, even if he'd made some quick money, he was still a victim kept in the dark.

Regardless of this guy's actual skill, he deserved a chance. So Adelman called out and waved Link over.

Everyone was stunned. That afternoon, Link had trained separately from the team—meaning he hadn't practiced with the Rockets for even a single minute!

And now, Adelman was actually putting Link in the game!

Link himself hadn't expected to play in his very first game with the Rockets, so when Adelman called him, he froze for a moment.

But quickly, Link stripped off his disposable practice jersey and ran over to Adelman.

"Remember, don't lose that fire," Adelman said, then pushed Link onto the court.

The veteran coach shook his head. Maybe it was because of Yao Ming that he had a soft spot for hardworking players with yellow skin...