Late July 2000, Boston, training facility.
The summer sun streamed through the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, pouring down onto the freshly polished maple floor. The air was filled with the faint scent of high-end solid wood floor wax, accompanied by the occasional crisp sound of a basketball bouncing on the floor.
Lin Qi, who had just returned from Europe, stood in the center of the court wearing a well-tailored dark casual suit. In front of him, eleven players wearing Celtics training uniforms and the entire coaching staff had already assembled.
"Guys," Lin Qi's voice wasn't loud, but it echoed with an undeniable authority in the empty training gym, "I know that after a long and crazy championship season, all you're thinking about are Caribbean Sea beaches, ice-cold beer, and bikinis. But before you completely let loose, we have one more team perk."
Chris Paul Pierce leaned against the basketball hoop post, arms crossed, his signature eyebrow raised. Chauncey Billups Billups sat upright on a folding chair by the sidelines, his hands unconsciously stroking a Spalding basketball, his eyes calm. Ben Wallace stood rooted to the spot like a black iron tower, expressionless. Rasheed Wallace beside him yawned widely, but his perked ears showed he was listening intently.
"The whole of August," Lin Qi held up one finger, "We're going to fly across the Atlantic Ocean to Europe for matches. Thirteen days, thirteen matches."
"An exhibition match? You call this a perk?" Rasheed uttered three words lazily.
"You can understand it that way, Sheed," Lin Qi nodded, "But this isn't the kind of money-making gig you can just do by showing off a couple of windmill dunks. Our opponents are the 13 best clubs currently in Europe: Olympia Milan, Royal Madrid, Barcelona, Panathinaikos..."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across the room like a hawk's. "These clubs have a deeper foundation than any of you here. You may have encountered some of their names on the international stage: Dejan Bodiroga, Navarro, Diamantidis... They're a group of guys with abnormally solid fundamentals and teamwork ingrained in their very bones."
"Those guys from the EuroBasket?" A glimmer of light finally appeared in Pierce's eyes.
Doc Doug Christie raised his hand. "Boss, where are Kevin ( Garnett ) and Gary ( Gary Payton )?"
" Garnett and Gary Payton have already reported to the United States national team to prepare for the Sydney Olympics. Türkoğlu is going back to Turkey, Wang Zhizhi is returning home to prepare, and Grant Hill needs to recover from his injury," Lin Qi said frankly. "So, this time, it's just the 11 of you going."
The training hall was silent for two seconds.
"A remnant force, huh?" Rasheed grinned.
"You could say that," Lin Qi smiled. "Each player, regardless of playing time, will receive a basic stipend for the Europe tour... $500,000. Coaching staff members will receive $250,000."
Rasheed whistled exaggeratedly.
"It's not over yet. For every game won, the whole team receives an additional $100,000 bonus, which is split equally in the locker room immediately."
"If we win all 13 games, each of us can get an extra $120,000. Add it all up, if you do a great job this month, each of you can go home with over $600,000."
Pierce abruptly straightened up, his languidness vanishing instantly. "Lin, are you suggesting we rob banks in Europe?"
"No, Chris Paul," Lin Qi shook his head, "I'm sending you to conquer Europe. Use your strength to rightfully earn back the money that is rightfully yours."
Billups raised his hand and calmly asked, "Lin, one last question. Since this is nominally an exhibition match, shouldn't we... save some face?"
Lin Qi stared into Billups ' eyes and shook his head very slowly, yet with extreme determination.
" Chauncey Billups, in competitive sports, the best way to respect your opponent is to completely crush them."
Lin Qi surveyed the entire arena and declared emphatically, "Those clubs have a century-long history and countless championship titles. If we go there to play any fixed matches or exhibition games, it would be an insult to them."
"I want you to demonstrate the absolute dominance you showed when you won two consecutive NBA championships. Let those arrogant Europe open their eyes and see what the true pinnacle of basketball really is!"
"Let's go Celtics!" A roar that could have blown the roof off erupted inside the training facility.
That afternoon, in Lin Qi's top-floor office.
Head coach Rick Carlisle sat on the leather sofa, his brow furrowed, clutching a thick tactics manual. Offensive assistant coach David Blatt stood quietly by the floor-to-ceiling window, a cup of black coffee in his hand.
" Rick," Lin Qi broke the silence, "This Europe tour might have been harder for you than for the players."
Lin Qi stood up and walked straight to the whiteboard. " Rick, you're an absolute tactical genius, and a perfectionist. You like to divide the court into precise grids, specifying which position each player should run to at what second, and which screen they must pass the ball from."
"That's fine in conventional positional warfare," Lin Qi turned around, "But in a dynamic offensive system, I need you to do one thing... go from being the 'controller' to the 'guide'."
"To be honest, I don't quite understand," Rick Carlisle frankly expressed his confusion.
Blatt drew a continuously looping, dynamic arrow on the whiteboard. "The core of dynamic offense lies in 'reading and reacting.' Your task is to teach them how to 'read.'"
Blatt, standing by the window, turned and put down his coffee cup. " Rick," he said, "I've coached in Europe for so many years and seen too many rigid and inflexible tactical systems. Coaches draw up tactics as precisely as clockwork, turning players into puppets. Once they encounter extremely tough switching or double-teaming, the clockwork snaps, and the entire system collapses instantly."
Blatt stepped forward and pointed to the arrow. "But dynamic offense is alive. It has an underlying logic, but no script. The opening move is the framework, but every subsequent change depends on the opponent's defense."
Rick Carlisle took a deep breath. "It sounds ideal, but if they make the wrong judgment on the field, it could turn into a disaster."
"Our job is to help them develop good habits." Blatt picked up a red Mark and drew a typical tactical positioning diagram on the whiteboard.
"Take the double screen at the top of the key with the players positioned at the horns, for example. The starting motion: Chauncey Billups receives the ball at the top of the key, Rasheed and Brad position themselves at the horns, and Chris Paul and Doc move to the corner. This part is absolutely fixed; that's discipline."
"But the next change is for them to read the defense themselves!" Blatt's pen slid rapidly across the whiteboard. "If the defender sticks close to Chauncey Billups, Rasheed moves up to set a screen. If the defender is hesitant to drive and chooses to step back, Chauncey Billups doesn't need to wait for the screen; he can just pull up and shoot. If the opposing big man switches early and delays the shot, Rasheed immediately cuts to the basket and attacks the rim!"
"Every defensive formation has a single correct solution. And the person who should find that solution is Chauncey Billups with the ball, not you sitting on the sidelines shouting tactics."
Rick Carlisle stared at the dazzling lines on the whiteboard, remaining silent for a long time. He was an extremely intelligent man and quickly grasped the essence of the system: "I understand... to train players to make decisions in different situations into conditioned reflexes."
" David, you'll be helping Rick relieve some of the pressure this month." Lin Qi patted Rick Carlisle on the shoulder and turned to Blatt.
Blatt nodded vigorously. "Leave it to me."
Rick Carlisle stood up, looked out the window at the players still practicing their shots, and gave a wry smile, "Lin, to be honest, handing over decision-making power on the court to the players makes me feel very insecure. I'm a little nervous."
"It's good to feel nervous." Lin Qi poured two glasses of whiskey, handing one to Rick Carlisle. "Don't be afraid to lose. These 13 matches in Europe are the perfect testing ground for you and this system. If you hit a wall or get stuck, solve it on the training field the next day."
The two clinked their glasses, the ice cubes making a crisp sound as they struck each other.
"A whole month," Lin Qi said, downing his drink in one gulp, "Enough time for you to get a basic understanding of this system."