What More Can I Say

Midway through the season, Texas Tech had transformed from an ordinary contender into a sensation that captured the attention of the entire country. Never in the history of the Red Raiders had there been a rising star like Xu Ling, drawing such widespread fascination from the professional basketball world. That deep, buzzer-beating three-pointer against the University of Texas had cemented him as a surefire lottery pick. Now, no team dared look down on them. In an instant, they had vaulted from hungry challengers to the top dog everyone was aiming to knock off. A week later, they traveled to Reed Arena for their second matchup of the season against Texas A&M. In their previous meeting, Texas Tech had routed the Aggies on their home floor, where Xu Ling's defense on Acie Law left scouts stunned. Even Law himself never imagined he could be shut down so thoroughly. Following that performance, Xu Ling's draft comparison was upgraded to Ron Harper. Fascinatingly, after he drained the game-winner over Kevin Durant, the scouts' praise soared once more, sparking intense debate over his true NBA comparison. Some argued that Xu Ling's ceiling was Michael Jordan and his floor was Ron Harper. More discerning scouts, however, pointed out that Jordan was not an accurate model. While Xu Ling might eventually become the "Michael Jordan of college basketball," his playstyle differed vastly from Jordan's. During his college days, Jordan was somewhat constrained by Dean Smith's Four Corners offense and had not yet fully developed his perimeter shooting. Yet his slashing ability was unmatched in the world, playing at an entirely different frequency from everyone else on the court. Slashing, on the other hand, was not Xu Ling's primary strength—or rather, driving was far from his first choice compared to pulling up for a shot. Because of that, Kobe Bryant seemed like a far more fitting comparison. Amid the debate, the consensus on Xu Ling's projection was ultimately settled: a Kobe ceiling, with a Harper floor. Framed that way, he finally carried the aura of a bona fide top-ten prodigy in a historic draft class. After all, a player's comparison never dictates their ultimate ceiling; it merely reflects scouts' visions for their technical development. During his draft process, Jalen Green had been touted as "Jordan's ceiling and Kobe's floor," while legendary coaster Ben Simmons was hailed as "a taller LeBron James." Most absurd of all, when Anthony Bennett shockingly went first overall, a scout even tried to rationalize it by claiming, "It may not be the most logical pick, but it could be the best one; Bennett is the only player in this draft class with the potential to average twenty points in the NBA." In the end, though, a player's development always comes down to their own work ethic. Facing Texas A&M again, the Red Raiders were nowhere near as tense as they had been the first time. They already knew Acie Law could be stopped. Tonight, Xu Ling was once again assigned to guard Law. Meeting on the floor this time, Law was far less flippant than before. "After seeing what you did to the Longhorns, I guess what happened to me wasn't so hard to swallow after all." "That's fair," Xu Ling replied in a pleasant tone, delivering a dagger with a smile. "After all, you guys rarely manage to keep games close until the final buzzer." Law's face darkened. Whatever happened, he was still a nationally renowned guard. Outside of Mike Conley, he was the only point guard in this class virtually guaranteed a spot in the lottery. When it came to draft stock, he was not far behind Xu Ling, and he certainly refused to yield ground now. Glaring at Xu Ling, he coldly spat, "We'll see about that!" Once the game tipped off, Texas A&M came out firing. Having learned from their previous defeat, they initiated as many pick-and-rolls as possible through Law, refusing to let him get trapped in one-on-one isolations against Xu Ling. While this approach highlighted Law's playmaking, it also made them heavily reliant on his teammates knocking down shots. Watching the Aggies execute their scheme from the sideline, Knight concluded immediately that they were doomed. "If we relied solely on Eli's defense, we'd never have made it this far either," Knight remarked with piercing clarity. Beyond his defense, Xu Ling actively looked to attack off the dribble. He actually cared quite a bit about professional evaluations. Over the past few days, all he had heard from scouts was that his slashing ability was lacking. Was it really that bad? He felt compelled to test it himself. Xu Ling dialed back his jump shots and piled on off-the-dribble drives. The verdict turned out to be an awkward mix of "yes" and "no." Unlike Jordan, an athletic freak who blew past defenders in a single step purely through sheer speed and explosiveness, Xu Ling relied more on shifts of tempo and the threat of his perimeter jumper to carve out driving lanes. With his exceptional ball control and anticipation, he created great initial separation and penetrating angles. The real challenge lay in how he used this brand-new body to finish at the rim. He frequently felt a strange "delay"—his brain issued one command, but his body executed another, deeper instinct ingrained from his previous life. In heavy contact, he would reflexively arc his shot higher or default to a quick scoop layup underneath the defender's reach. Those were invaluable survival tactics forged among giants in his past, muscle memory hardwired to avoid getting blocked. Now, those tricks still worked, but when combined with his 198-centimeter frame and 212-centimeter wingspan, they sometimes appeared overly cautious or downright inefficient. He could easily have used his height and length to drop the ball in or finish straight through contact, yet his body occasionally chose a more convoluted, acrobatic evasion. He needed more games and physical practices to recalibrate the user manual for his own body, fully melding his elite basketball instincts with his top-tier physical gifts. Even so, for a freshman not yet nineteen years old, his drive to slash, his knack for creating opportunities, and his diverse finishing repertoire were already more than impressive. By that point in the evening, through relentless drives, drive-and-kicks, and the occasional shot from deep, Xu Ling had already tallied close to twenty points. During a dead-ball stoppage, Xu Ling walked over to team captain Jarrius Jackson. "Cap," Xu Ling said quietly, his tone calm and analytical, devoid of any arrogance. "They're hesitating on switches. Next time you set a screen for me, don't rush to roll to the basket. Fake the roll, then pop straight out behind the three-point line. Acie Law will definitely collapse on me, and I'll kick it right to you." Jackson gave him a skeptical look. A few possessions later, however, the opportunity materialized just as predicted. Xu Ling attacked off the dribble, drawing a double-team, and Law left Jackson wide open, lunging toward Xu Ling instead of recovering to the paint. Without even looking, Xu Ling whipped a pinpoint behind-the-back bounce pass straight into the hands of Jackson, who had drifted out beyond the arc. Jackson caught the ball with ten feet of daylight in front of him and calmly rose for the shot. *Swish!* A clean three-pointer! That shot forced Texas A&M to burn a timeout. Jackson dashed back down the court in jubilation and exchanged a high five with Xu Ling. "How did you know?" Jackson asked, bewildered. Xu Ling simply tapped his temple. "He did the exact same thing twice in the first half." In the end, Xu Ling poured in a game-high 24 points to go along with several crucial assists, propelling TTU to a comfortable fourteen-point road victory over Texas A&M. Compared to their first clash, Acie Law put up a stellar line tonight—16 points and 12 assists, shouldering both the scoring and the playmaking load. Yet to beat this Texas Tech team, he would have needed to double his scoring output. With Xu Ling hounding him, this performance was likely as good as it could possibly get. "I don't know anyone else in the entire nation who can lock down Acie Law the way Eli does!" exclaimed college basketball analyst Andy Katz. "Every single time I watch him, his two-way intensity leaves me in awe!" Even in the hostile confines of Reed Arena, Xu Ling received no less adoration than back home at United Spirit Arena. Scores of smitten women had pulled strings to send him their phone numbers. With a single phone call, they would have happily shown up on his doorstep from any corner of Texas. Yet Xu Ling maintained his usual detached demeanor toward such attention. Without sparing the slips of paper a glance, he walked straight up to Bob Knight and asked, "What's the main difference between me and college MJ?" "Aren't you the one calling yourself the Michael Jordan of college basketball? I figured you already considered yourself on his level." Knight felt a strong urge to snap at Xu Ling, but chewing out a player who had just locked down the opponent's star while leading all scorers? Even Knight wasn't that unhinged. Instead, Knight answered earnestly, "Aside from your shooting, there isn't a single thing you do as well as he did. Though your defense isn't bad." "A conservative estimate," Knight added with a grin, "is that the freshman who went by Mike Jordan wasn't quite as good as you are now—at least until he hit that shot to win the national championship." Of course, comparing him to the 1984 Jordan was an entirely different story. That Jordan was not only the centerpiece of the last amateur team to steamroll through the Olympics, but he also went on to average twenty-eight points as an NBA rookie. The immediate impact he possessed was terrifying. Xu Ling followed up, "Was MJ back then to his team what I am to TTU?" "No." Knight had to concede that Xu Ling was the unquestioned soul of the squad; with him or without him, they were two completely different teams. "Jordan was an exceptional freshman back then, but that was an entirely different era. Elite players regularly stayed in college for all four years. The true heart of that North Carolina team was James Worthy." Hearing that, Xu Ling's eyes lit up with renewed energy. "If we win the national championship, doesn't that prove I was even better than college Jordan?" This was not the first time Xu Ling had declared his intention to lead the team to a national title. The last time he brought it up, he had been somewhat vague, but now his ambitions were laid bare. "Do you have any idea what you're saying?" Xu Ling's eyes practically sparkled with excitement. "That said, before we get there, I'd like to use the remaining regular-season games to test out more dribble drives. Coach, could you let me run the point more often going forward? I want the ball in my hands." "Don't you fucking dare think you get to dictate this team's offense!" Knight barked, his temper flaring. "Don't even dream about playing some four-guys-standing-around-watching-one scheme at TTU!" *Four protect one, huh? If you ask me, that's exactly how we should play! Four protect one works!* Naturally, Xu Ling kept those thoughts strictly to himself. "What I mean is, I need to sharpen my on-ball attack as much as possible before the tournament arrives," Xu Ling argued logically. "We can't win a championship on jump shots alone." Xu Ling assumed Knight would agree with him. After all, wasn't "jump-shooting teams don't win championships" practically gospel in modern basketball? Instead, Knight retorted, "We're not wasting the few regular-season games we have left on sharpening your penetration, especially when your slashing is already more than good enough at this level." "What you really need to work on is your post skills!" Knight's face twisted with exasperated disappointment. "I honestly cannot wrap my head around it! With your height, your weight, your strength, plus that wingspan and explosiveness... your post game is literally zero? And before you came to the States, you fucking played center! If you don't know how to post up, how the hell did you survive inside back then?" Xu Ling knew it sounded preposterous, but he could hardly explain the art of smurfing to Knight. Knight had spent decades in the shark tank of the NCAA, just beneath the NBA itself; he could never imagine how the "original" Xu Ling had terrorized the tiny pond of Hong Kong high school basketball, dominating like Dwight Howard and Kevin Garnett on raw physical talent alone without ever needing a back-to-the-basket move. And as for his own previous life, he had spent his entire career as the shortest guy on the court—or close to it. Practicing post moves? There had never been the slightest motive or reason to do so. "I really am no good at posting up," Xu Ling admitted honestly. "Then what you need to be doing right now is studying tape of Michael Jordan!" "Can't I just watch Kobe instead?" Xu Ling asked with an innocent look. "The scouting reports say my comparison is Kobe." "If you can watch Jordan directly," Knight growled, his fury surging back, "why the hell would you waste your time studying his copycat?" Seemingly oblivious to Knight's visceral distaste for Kobe, Xu Ling grinned and twisted the knife further: "Because the scouts said my comparison is Kobe." "That's enough!" Knight blew his lid entirely. "If you're hell-bent on wasting your time on that rapist, don't you fucking dare come asking for my advice again! It's a complete waste of my damn time!" *Right... Bob Knight, this notoriously crusty, retrograde old dinosaur, hates Kobe over the whole Eagle Colorado ordeal? Is that even fair? Did Kobe's earth-shattering scoring rampage last season not move you at all? Outscoring the entire Mavericks team through three quarters—wasn't that electric? Dropping eighty-one points in a single game, a divine feat unmatched since Wilt Chamberlain's legendary century night—wasn't that mind-blowing?* Man.