Link dunked again, but Blue Team's fans were no longer surprised. He always seemed to move at a leisurely pace, but the moment an opportunity presented itself, he could unleash a thunderous strike.
Against the somber backdrop of Upshaw's passing, Link's dunk had undoubtedly lifted the spirits in the arena. It boosted not only his teammates' morale, but the fans' as well.
After Link finished the dunk, he heard the whole arena chanting his name. There weren't as many fans here as in the NBA, and their cheers weren't as deafening, but the sound still warmed his heart.
In Houston, he'd been nothing more than a clown drawing attention to the Rockets. But here, in Oklahoma, on Blue Team's home court, he was a hero to these fans!
For the first time, Link truly understood what it meant to play at home.
He wore Upshaw's No. 0 jersey. He had teammates and fans supporting him. Now, he had nothing to fear!
"I've never seen a D-League game with an atmosphere this electric. Link seems to have brought the NBA's excitement back to Oklahoma. The Vipers won't have an easy time getting out of here tonight, and the Houston Rockets will pay for not re-signing Link!"
Amid the feverish atmosphere, Vipers point guard Larry Morris brought the ball across half court. Larry Morris had been a star point guard in college, playing three years at Washington State University before going undrafted.
Despite his college stardom, Morris was little more than an unremarkable pebble in the G League. His short stature—just 5'11"—and limited scoring ability were the main reasons he'd gone undrafted. He also struggled physically against professional competition.
Don't think it's strange for a star college point guard to go undrafted. The Heat's familiar point guard, Chalmers, had once been the NCAA Final Four's Most Outstanding Player. And what happened? He'd still gone in the second round.
Morris had never been very confident since turning pro, so as soon as he crossed half court, he looked for Carroll, eager to get the ball out of his hands.
But he waited for a long time in the space between the half-court line and the three-point line, and still couldn't get the pass through. The yellow-skinned player in the No. 0 jersey was guarding Carroll with absolutely no mercy.
"Carroll is trying to shake Link, but he just can't get free. His off-ball movement looks incredibly raw to Link. It seems Carroll might suffer the same fate as Luke Ba Weiyuan and Lance Stephenson!"
"Link's defense is absolutely NBA-caliber. After three games with the Rockets, he's adjusted to the NBA's pace. Back in the G League, the game is easy for him!"
The commentators were full of praise for Link's defense. Carroll wasn't a particularly gifted self-creator. He was energetic, but his athleticism was only average.
With neither standout athleticism nor scoring ability, Carroll had almost no chance of getting free from Link.
Throughout the possession, Link stuck to Carroll as if his hands were coated in glue. The forward had an outrageous set of dreadlocks and looked as wild as a Predator, but Link had him tamed like a trapped beast unable to find its way out.
With the shot clock winding down, Morris decided not to let the possession drag on. He called for a screen from his center, then drove with the ball himself!
At only 5'11", Morris didn't have enough confidence to attack the rim after his drive, so he chose not to lay it in himself. Instead, he bounced a pass to the Vipers center rolling to the basket.
The center caught the ball and went up to attack the rim, but the next moment, cheers once again filled the arena.
Jon Brockman came flying in from the side with tremendous force and swatted the ball right out of the Vipers center's hands! This big white bear, who'd been neither a full-fledged big nor a forward in the NBA, was a fearsome protector of the paint in the G League.
The ball went out of bounds, and the Vipers' attack was stopped. Brockman glared fiercely at his opponent, then turned and exchanged a light high-five with Link.
On the sidelines, Conner smiled with relief. In all his years coaching Blue Team, he'd never seen the team's chemistry this good.
Link's arrival had brought a subtle change to the team's chemistry. He wasn't just a good player; he was a good teammate, too. To put it more bluntly, Conner believed that one day Link would become a great leader.
"Damn Houston. They brought this on themselves," Conner muttered to himself from the sidelines.
Although the Vipers still had possession, their confidence had taken a serious hit.
The "deathly wings" formed by Link and Brockman had made Blue Team's defense incredibly tight.
Sure enough, the Vipers failed to score on their next attempt, either. Carroll couldn't get the ball, and the others were too intimidated by Brockman to attack the rim. In the end, the Vipers could only settle for a desperate shot from the perimeter. Its efficiency was predictable.
After just one offensive possession and one defensive stand, Blue Team seemed to have seized control of the game. The Vipers players were all shaken. They hadn't run into a team tonight so much as a pack of furious beasts!
Carroll swallowed. He felt utterly helpless and had no idea what sort of move the yellow-skinned player in front of him would use to attack.
Defense was supposed to be Carroll's real strength. This hardworking forward had always earned praise for his contributions on that end of the court.
So he wanted to use tight defense to limit Link, but now he was torn. Should he pressure Link closely or guard against his drive?
Link didn't look fast, but his rhythm was so strange that he could slip to the basket before you knew it. Thinking of Link's thunderous dunk moments ago, Carroll instinctively took a few steps back. He couldn't let his opponent attack the rim so easily. Sometimes, it was better to gamble on a jump shot than let an attacker reach the basket.
Besides, Carroll wasn't giving Link that much space. If Link shot, he'd still have time to close out.
The Black forward was underestimating Link. If he knew his opponent was Grant Hill, he probably wouldn't be defending him like this...
Link still didn't have the ball. Wearing his No. 0 jersey, he moved to the right side of the court. But instead of staying beyond the three-point line, he cut inward.
Carroll was secretly pleased. His strategy had worked!
But Link hadn't reached the basket. He'd only just crossed the three-point line when Blue Team's point guard passed him the ball!
Link caught it, came to an abrupt stop, and rose to shoot from just inside the arc, two steps beyond the three-point line!
Carroll was caught off guard. He'd thought Link would keep driving toward the basket, never expecting him to stop suddenly and pull up. He rushed to contest the shot, but by the time he reacted, No. 0 had already released the ball.
Shooting had been one of Grant Hill's strengths during this period, and one of his main ways of scoring. He was excellent from both mid-range and beyond the arc.
Link knew that in the not-too-distant future, the mid-range jumper would almost disappear. Most players would either shoot threes or go straight to the basket. But he knew the mid-range shot was an old but highly cost-effective skill. The catch was, you had to be very accurate.
The ball sailed over Carroll's fingertips in a rainbow arc and dropped cleanly through the net.
For the second possession in a row, Link had scored on DeMarre Carroll. At that moment, Carroll had only one question on his mind: why hadn't the Rockets re-signed this guy? Had they lost their minds?
Darrell Morey had been in a good mood these past few days. For just $50,000, he'd successfully used a Chinese-American player to draw a wave of attention.
The Rockets' attendance was gradually recovering, and their viewership was rising with each game. Most importantly, he'd secured the Chinese market.
The Chinese market was a huge slice of the pie. Anything was worth doing for a piece of it.
As for that Chinese-American undrafted player? Who cared? That was how things went for G League players: they came and went in silence. Give it another week, and everyone would have forgotten who Link was.
Morey hadn't re-signed Link not only because Link hadn't been part of his plans, but also because he didn't think Link was good enough to play in the NBA.
In his eyes, Link was just a softie with high basketball IQ and terrible physical attributes. And at twenty-two, he couldn't have much potential left to tap. Morey didn't think a young player with the body of someone in his thirties or forties would amount to much.
If he needed a shooter, there were plenty of excellent ones in Europe. He didn't need to waste time on an undrafted player.
It might have been cruel, but business was business.
Just as Morey was savoring his "victory" over the past few days, he got a call from his scout.
"Darrell, you're still awake, right?"
"I am. What's up?"
"I don't think you should've given up on that Chinese-American undrafted player."
"Huh?" Morey froze. What was going on? Was a scout telling a general manager how to do his job?
When he'd decided not to re-sign Link, Adelman had protested, too, and Morey hadn't listened. Why should he listen to a scout?
"Can you give me a reason?" Morey asked mockingly.
"A reason? Good Lord, turn on the TV! Link is tearing the Vipers apart. He's about to rip Carroll to shreds! And..." The scout paused on the other end of the line. "And he's about to break the G League single-game scoring record..."
Before you continue