You Play Like...

"You little punk, don't get cocky!"

Seeing Link swaggering right in front of him, Brockman was naturally furious. In past practice sessions, Brockman had never let Link score a single point. As for trash talk? Link hadn't even dared try it.

But today, Brockman found Link strangely cocky, almost like he'd become a different person.

Still, the former forward from the University of Washington wasn't about to be intimidated. He knew how unreliable Link's three-point shot was. That last basket had to be a fluke!

A player might get lucky and hit one or two threes in a game, but he couldn't stay lucky forever.

Brockman told himself he'd shut that damn Asian kid out for the rest of the game!

On the other half of the court, Link's confidence had soared after making that shot. The previous night, he'd beaten Upshaw in a game of one-on-one, but Upshaw hadn't gone all out. He'd just been messing around with Link.

So beating Upshaw hadn't made Link particularly happy.

But just now, he'd scored on an actual professional player. That meant Link really could stand out in the G League.

Obviously, even Grant Hill at his worst could still play in the G League. And Link, with Hill's abilities, could do the same.

So on defense, Link was fired up after that successful shot. He raised both arms, looking ready to fight Brockman to the death.

Link had long arms. Though he stood 6'8", his wingspan was 7'2". It wasn't freakish, but it was certainly no short reach. Blue Team had signed him in part because of his size and wingspan.

They just hadn't expected that the Chinese American from Fresno couldn't handle contact or shoot, and that the only thing he had going for him was a decent defensive attitude.

But Link was different now. He could use those long arms to do a lot of things.

As soon as Brockman crossed half court, he called for the ball from his point guard. He wanted to score on Link himself and avenge his humiliation.

Brockman had played in the NBA, after all, so he had some clout. The point guard didn't refuse his request.

And so, for the second possession in a row, Link and Brockman faced off. This time, though, their roles were reversed: one attacked while the other defended.

Most people—including Conner, who was watching from the sideline—didn't think Link could stop Brockman. Maybe he'd gotten lucky with that three, but luck wouldn't help him on defense.

Brockman was a full eighteen pounds heavier than Link. Those eighteen pounds were real, and no amount of luck could suddenly make Brockman lose weight.

Most of the players were already getting ready for the next play. Based on past experience, Brockman could easily lean into Link and bulldoze his way to the basket, then decide whether he felt like dunking or laying it in.

But since Link had just taunted Brockman, there was a good chance the "Big White Bear" would hang off the rim afterward.

"Die, you bastard!" Brockman started dribbling, but to Link, his ball handling looked awkward—downright clumsy, even.

After all, Brockman had played power forward throughout college. Most of the time, he didn't need to handle the ball to score. Ball-handling was not one of his strengths.

The "Big White Bear" dribbled straight at Link and slammed into him.

"Thump!" The muffled sound of their bodies colliding made Upshaw wince. He'd been about to come over and help Link, but when he remembered that his own matchup was a good shooter, he decided against it.

"Hang in there, Link!" Upshaw prayed silently.

Brockman knocked Link back several steps, then pressed his advantage, using his weight to force his way toward the basket.

Grant Hill in the twilight of his career hadn't been much of a physical defender to begin with, and now Link was matched up against a player nearly twenty pounds heavier.

Link knew he couldn't hold his ground through brute force. But Grant Hill had never relied on strength alone to defend. As a Hill fan, Link still remembered the 2010 Western Conference Finals: Suns versus Lakers. Hill had been the Suns' most effective defender against Kobe, and every clip of him guarding Kobe was a textbook example of on-ball defense.

Kobe had still used his incredible scoring ability to crush the Suns and Hill that year. But that was Kobe, one of the most dangerous scorers in the league. Hill's abilities were more than enough to handle Brockman.

Especially when this was a Grant Hill with an "extra-long arm" upgrade.

Just as Brockman drove into the paint and prepared to raise the ball for a thunderous dunk, he suddenly realized the ball wasn't responding to him. He looked down and saw that Link had swiped it away at the exact moment he was about to take his first step.

"What!?" Brockman couldn't believe he'd lost the ball. He'd just been stripped by an undrafted rookie!

Conner, watching from the sideline, was just as shocked. Link had timed his swipe perfectly! An ordinary undrafted rookie couldn't make that kind of read. If he could, he wouldn't have gone undrafted!

And yet, somehow, Link had done it.

After knocking the ball loose, Link immediately launched a long pass upcourt to Upshaw, who was already sprinting ahead.

Grant Hill had been one of the smartest players in the league. His court vision, playmaking, and ability to read the game were all outstanding. Naturally, Link had inherited those traits as well.

If not for his injuries, the title of "most versatile small forward" should have belonged to Hill, not James.

Upshaw caught the ball cleanly. Link's long pass had been right on target. The 6'6" Black guard glanced at his position and saw that he was just beyond the three-point line!

Without hesitation, Upshaw rose and fired. He hit a transition three in stride, and the ball swished through the net!

"Haha, nice pass, Link!" Upshaw shouted happily after scoring, pointing at Link to thank him.

Link pointed back at Upshaw in acknowledgment.

Beside Link, Brockman's face had gone purple with rage. Link, who'd come from 2019, wanted to tell him, You look just like Thanos right now.

Too bad the big oaf probably wouldn't understand the reference. Having to worry about whether people would even get his trash talk was one of the headaches of being a time traveler.

"Keep it up, Link! Keep it up!"

On the sideline, Blue Team's bald head coach, Conner, even cheered Link on. The coach had never liked Brockman's arrogant attitude. Brockman always acted as if being sent down from the NBA made him superior to these "homegrown" NBDL players.

That attitude had already earned Brockman a failing grade from Conner.

And Conner wanted to see what else the kid could do. Maybe Link was finally starting to live up to his potential.

"Warm-up's over, idiot!" Brockman snapped. He'd always been able to beat Link with ease. How could he accept being beaten by him now?

An NBA player sent down to the G League losing to an undrafted rookie—wasn't that enough to make anyone laugh?

So this time, Brockman didn't waste time messing around with Link beyond the three-point line. Forget playing like a small forward! This time, he'd use his favorite weapon—low-post offense—to crush that yellow-skinned kid!

Brockman established position in the paint, backed Link down, and raised a hand for the ball.

The others were starting to get annoyed with Brockman. Was he going to hog every chance to show off during the entire practice?

Still, mindful of Brockman's temper, the point guard lobbed the ball in.

Brockman had dominated in the low post in college and scored at a high rate. But he hadn't done it with skill. He'd used his elbows to shove aside whatever poor defender was guarding him, then forced his way to the rim.

But Link wasn't falling for that. Aged Hill had a solid base and wasn't easy to budge. Link also cleverly kept a hand on Brockman's waist, making it harder for him to generate power. Using the tricks of an old NBA vet against a young player was, honestly, a little unfair.

But Brockman didn't know that. He still thought he was the one bullying Link.

Brockman shoved backward twice, but it barely worked. He tried to spin around Link, only to find that Link had already cut off the route.

"Damn it!" Brockman lost patience. Everyone was watching. He had to take the shot, whether it was a good opportunity or not! If he passed, wouldn't that prove he was scared?

So Brockman turned and shot a fadeaway. But fadeaways weren't his strength. And at 6'7", he had no advantage against Link's height and wingspan.

Link raised both arms and barely needed to jump to disrupt Brockman's shot.

Just as expected, the "Big White Bear's" shot clanged off the rim. Another failed possession!

His teammates shot Brockman looks of disgust. They all thought he should've passed. If he was going to force a shot, then he'd better make it. Missing without passing—who did he think he was, Little Flying Warrior?

"You're as soft as a cupcake, Jon." Link made sure to get in one last jab at Brockman, then ran upcourt to join the offense.

Link hadn't been a "good guy" in his previous life. He didn't go looking for trouble, but if someone came after him, he wouldn't run away like a coward.

He'd always believed that respect went both ways. If you didn't respect him, why should he respect you?

Upshaw respected Link, so Link was naturally friendly to him. Brockman didn't respect Link, so he got what was coming to him.

After moving into the frontcourt, Link hit another smooth midrange jumper. He led the team to a 7–0 run.

A three, a midrange shot, defense, a great pass... Conner was very pleased with Link's performance today. Maybe getting knocked down the other day had actually knocked some sense into him.

The bald coach rubbed his chin. Maybe he could give that Chinese American more minutes in the next game.

If Link could keep this up, he could become Blue Team's X-factor.