Then Wait for Me to Win One Too

89 to 67. With the final buzzer sounding, Texas Tech cruised to a 22-point blowout over Marquette. It was a result nobody had anticipated. After all, there was a clear gap between the two rosters in both depth and starting talent, not to mention the fact that Jarrius Jackson, TTU's undisputed top player, had been sidelined. Under normal circumstances, nobody expected TTU to make the final. Yet led by a freshman, they had strung together win after win, fought their way to the championship game, and toppled top-20 nationally ranked Marquette to claim the $50,000 purse. Xu Ling was the unanimous choice for Most Valuable Player of the Pete Newell Invitational. College Sports Television conducted a live on-court interview with him. "Eli, you guys won the invitational title as major underdogs. What does this mean to you?" Xu Ling answered honestly, "To the team, not much. But it does have some practical value—for example, we walked away with a fifty-thousand-dollar prize." The reporter asked, "Earlier, you said you wanted to be TTU's Jordan. After tonight's performance, do you feel like you've accomplished that goal?" "Not TTU's Jordan—the Jordan of college basketball," Xu Ling replied. "And to reach that goal, I still have a very long way to go." Next came the most sensitive question of the day: "ESPN draft analyst Chad Ford believes you could be a dark horse in the 2007 NBA Draft. Would you consider declaring for the 2007 draft?" Xu Ling delivered an answer straight out of the textbook: "Making it to the NBA is my dream, but right now I'm not thinking about that. I'm just focusing on the present and letting everything else take its course." If given the opportunity, Xu Ling would have loved nothing more than to jump to the NBA right this second. Of course, he would never say that out loud. Right now, he had only built up some draft buzz; he was still nowhere near the point where declaring guaranteed a high pick. Once the interview wrapped up, Xu Ling headed for the locker room, only to run into Marquette's Wesley Matthews at the entrance of the tunnel. His newly defeated opponent wore a sullen scowl, dropping a chilly parting shot: "Hope we run into each other again in March Madness." Unlike his razor-sharp edge during the game, Xu Ling seemed remarkably calm now. "Relax. The game's already over." The Xu Ling standing before him was completely different from the one on the court. Matthews felt all the more convinced that Xu Ling's "Jordan" declaration had been nothing more than a stunt to grab attention. He wanted to play in the NBA. Then again, who didn't? Besides, Xu Ling had already proved what he was capable of, so what was the point of dwelling on it? They had been dismantled by Xu Ling almost single-handedly. What Matthews really needed to worry about now was how to win back favor with NBA scouts in the games ahead. Xu Ling walked down the tunnel. The corridor seemed empty until, not far from the locker room, he spotted an elderly man. With a head of white hair and a grim expression, his features were unremarkable, yet decades of commanding teams lent him the authority of a general. Clad in the same black sweater he had worn for decades, he was staring straight at Xu Ling. Who else could it be but Bob Knight? "Waiting for me, Coach?" Had Texas Tech lost tonight, Xu Ling would have been nervous. But they were champions, and he was the tournament MVP. No matter how nitpicky Knight could be, he wouldn't pick this moment to chew someone out. Xu Ling was completely at ease. "Truth is, J.J. met his academic requirements a while ago, but I'm holding him out until the Big 12 tournament begins," Knight said, his voice entirely flat, as if sharing trivial gossip. "Do you know why?" The tunnel was dead silent, the sound of their breathing clearly audible. A distinct look of detachment crossed Xu Ling's face. His response caught Knight off guard: "To be honest, I'm not interested in that." "He's the team captain. His presence determines where this team goes this season, and you're not interested?" Xu Ling replied, "If he's a proper captain, he'll sort out his issues and get back as soon as possible. If he doesn't think it's important, there's no reason for me to waste my breath worrying about someone irresponsible. At the end of the day, he's a senior. He has far more experience than I do, and he'll handle his own business. All I need to do is play my role." "What role?" "Specifically, whatever role my coach, Mr. Bob Knight, assigns me before every game." A smile finally broke across Knight's face. In certain circumstances, a smile from Knight did not mean anything good. Back during his days at Indiana University, a player named Dan Dakich once recounted a story: during March Madness, Knight kept smiling at him. Then one day, out of nowhere, Knight said, "Dan, our next opponent is North Carolina State. I'm putting you on Michael Jordan." (Dakich ended up holding Jordan to 6-of-14 shooting, knocking North Carolina out in the second round of March Madness.) "Since you put it that way, can I take that to mean you're ready to become our leader once J.J. graduates?" That single line made Knight's intentions clear to Xu Ling. The old man's instincts weren't just sharp—they were dead accurate. Following the recruitment disaster of the 2005 class, TTU's roster pipeline faced serious vulnerabilities. Once Jarrius Jackson graduated, the team would become a pack of wolves without an alpha, threatening to plunge the program into an abyss. Xu Ling's emergence had brought relief to the coaching staff, who believed they had found their cornerstone for the next three years. But as Xu Ling rapidly generated draft buzz and used all sorts of uncharacteristically flashy remarks to draw the media spotlight, Knight realized his own vision didn't align with that of his handpicked future star. So he had come to test Xu Ling's intentions. "Coach," Xu Ling said, looking Knight dead in the eye, "as soon as the time is right, I'm entering the NBA Draft." Knight's eyes widened. He had never expected such a blunt answer. "So regarding the leadership question, I think M.Z. and Alan are better suited for it than I am." Under Knight, no player in history had ever left after their freshman season for the draft. "Come off it!" Knight boomed. "They can't carry TTU! They don't have what it takes!" "But you do!" Knight jabbed an angry finger toward Xu Ling. "You're the most talented player I've seen since coming to TTU! I believe you can lead this team to greatness—if only you have enough patience. You're young. You still have plenty of flaws. Give me time, and I can have you completely ready before you enter the NBA!" "It might take two or three years!" An emotional Knight was nothing rare, but a Knight displaying such a tangled web of emotions was practically unprecedented. And that was the Knight standing before Xu Ling now. First pleased, then furious, and now tinged with frustration and helplessness—after saying all this, all Knight wanted was a commitment from the freshman his program depended on. Yet the weight of that commitment was not something Xu Ling was willing to bear. Two or three years? In this era, whether a player had NBA-caliber talent was obvious after just one year. The league was growing increasingly professionalized. From the quality of training and level of competition to staff support, nothing in the NCAA could compare, to say nothing of the staggering salaries. And what about the NCAA? They still clung to their ideals of "pure amateur athletics," guilt-tripping struggling student-athletes into dedicating everything with neither financial security nor compensation. Not that Xu Ling concerned himself with all that high-minded analysis. His mindset was simple: having been given a second chance at life, he was going to claw his way to the top with everything he had. He held no deep affection for TTU, nor any starry-eyed reverence for Knight. Any emotional attachment to this school or this team belonged to the original Xu Ling, not him. All he could promise was to give his absolute all on the court every single day he wore a TTU jersey. Xu Ling asked calmly, "Coach, back when you let Isiah Thomas enter the draft, was it because he was completely ready, or because Indiana didn't need him anymore?" "Isiah was already the best player in the country by his sophomore year!" Thomas and Indiana were always raw nerves for Knight, and hearing Xu Ling bring them up only fired him up more. "He won a national championship that year! At that point, he had nothing left to prove!" The moment the words left his mouth, Knight seemed to realize something. A national championship... While that standard was second nature to him, for the freshman standing before him, and for TTU, it was practically an impossible dream. Xu Ling caught Knight's momentary hesitation and the double standard in his words. In that instant, a surge of pride and defiance took hold of him, and the words tumbled out before he could stop them: "Then wait until I win one." "What did you say?!" The words were spoken softly, yet they landed like a sledgehammer against Knight's chest. He stared at Xu Ling in utter shock, as if seeing for the very first time just how wildly arrogant a soul was housed inside this freshman. "Coach, I need to get inside." With that, Xu Ling turned and walked toward the locker room. Knight remained rooted to the spot. He had no desire to spoil his players' celebration with his sour mood. If nothing else, tonight had confirmed one thing: deep down, Xu Ling and Isiah Thomas were cut from the very same cloth. Both dreamed of soaring higher, driven by an ambition that could never be caged. Players like that either reached the very pinnacle or fell to their deaths. TTU was never going to keep him. And yet, he had actually said, "Wait until I win one"? Win one? At TTU? At a program where it had taken him five years of grinding just to make them remotely competitive? A tangle of conflicting emotions churned inside Knight: the prickle of feeling offended, the sheer absurdity of the claim—yet buried beneath the irritation and disbelief was a faint spark, forcibly ignited, that he didn't even want to admit was there. "Arrogant little bastard!" Knight muttered a curse under his breath, but the words held no real venom anymore. Xu Ling was never going to witness Knight's flustered reaction. The moment he pushed open the locker room door, his teammates ambushed him with college basketball's signature brand of "champagne"—bottled water. Shaking unopened plastic bottles vigorously, everyone tried to build up pressure and spray him down. Xu Ling could only cover his head with both hands, letting himself be drenched in his teammates' celebratory water shower.