The annual Pete Newell Invitational tipped off in Oakland.
To this new generation of players, the name Newell was too ancient. After all, the 1950s and '60s, when he was in his prime, were half a century ago.
Larry Bird once said that greatness has a shelf life.
No achievement, however great, lasts more than a generation. A generation later, the next generation takes apart the greatness of the one before it, and in doing so establishes the reasonableness of its own claim to be the greatest.
Knight regarded Newell as a mentor, which is why his teams regularly played in the Pete Newell Invitational.
Eight teams were entered this year, and the only one that could give TTU any trouble was Marquette out of the Big East, which had several players with NBA potential.
Xu Ling was very interested in them, especially their starting guard, Wesley Matthews. He knew the man would spend years as an NBA starter. He wasn't a star, but an NBA starter is basically one of the best players in the world.
There was no better litmus test.
But when Xu Ling looked at the schedule, he found that they and Marquette were in different groups. If he wanted to face them, he would either have to give up first place in his group and try to land in Marquette's half of the bracket for the knockout round, or fight all the way to the final.
Obviously Knight wasn't about to lose group games on purpose just to meet Marquette sooner, and Xu Ling wasn't about to do anything that stupid either. They would run into each other sooner or later. For now, he would focus his energy on the weak teams.
In the Invitational's first game, Texas Tech faced Little Rock.
It was also the first time Xu Ling had been named a starter at TTU.
And he wasn't the only freshman on that starting list. Besides Xu Ling, there was freshman point guard Charlie Burgess.
Knight clearly meant to experiment tonight. With Jarrius Jackson away, he could try out his other point guards.
Xu Ling's thinking was simple. Right now he was Brad Pitt's "sexy hitchhiking cowboy, J.D." from Thelma & Louise. At this moment he was unknown in the basketball world, but soon everyone would know his name.
That was exactly how he saw it.
And so poor, overmatched Little Rock suffered badly tonight.
Their perimeter leader, sophomore shooting guard DeAndre Evans, seemed to want to give the Chinese rookie a rude welcome. On the very first matchup, Evans came at him with a flashy between-the-legs dribble, spraying trash talk as he closed in: "Welcome to the real game, kid. I'm going to expose you for what you really are!"
Xu Ling just lowered his stance slightly and answered without expression, "Nice handle. You should take that to the playground."
Before the words were out, Evans tried to blow past him on pure speed, but Xu Ling's startlingly long arms read it early and poked the ball away! Xu Ling instantly ignited the break. One-on-none in the open court, he didn't settle for a simple layup—he leapt and brought the house down with a tomahawk dunk.
After landing, he looked back at Evans, who had just run back to half court, and said quietly, "Is this the real you?"
The courtside commentators shouted out loud at the sight: "TTU's No. 1 has answered DeAndre Evans' challenge! He answered the taunt with defense, and then he lit up this arena with a top-ten dunk!"
Soon after, the game lost all suspense. Xu Ling seized nearly every scoring chance, shooting close to 100 percent, and before he came out he threw down a dunk over a defender that stunned the gym. He finished with 32 points and 6 rebounds, and strolled off with the college basketball headlines in his hand.
Little Rock head coach Steve Shields gave him the highest praise afterward, his tone full of helpless admiration: "We tried everything and it made no difference. Your No. 1 looks like the Kobe Bryant of college basketball! He destroyed us tonight."
The reporters surrounded Xu Ling and relayed Shields' comment.
Xu Ling listened carefully, then gave a shocking reply: "This may be a little disrespectful, but I'd rather be the Michael Jordan of college basketball."
If anyone had asked Xu Ling why he said that, the answer was well reasoned: Jordan went to college, Kobe didn't, and Jordan has an NCAA national championship. By any measure, being the former beat being the latter.
But no one asked.
The sportswriters ground through the same routine day after day, prowling the sidelines like vultures after carrion. They racked their brains for talking points, wishing they could turn the tread pattern on a star's shoe sole into a scoop—after all, who doesn't want to be the next Bill Simmons, leaping from an obscure, obsessive columnist to darling of the sports media?
Xu Ling's answer wasn't especially brilliant, but it was like a well-aimed three-pointer, dead center in the media's target.
"He really fucking said that?"
Bob Knight stared at his son in astonishment, checking whether Xu Ling had really said something so audacious.
"Word for word!" Little Knight confirmed excitedly. "He's already on the front page of ESPN's college basketball section!"
The astonishment on Knight's face slowly faded, as though he were digesting news that both infuriated and excited him.
"Michael Jordan?" Knight snorted. "Fine! If the kid wants to roast himself over the fire, then starting tomorrow I'll hold him to a different standard!"
Little Knight was just as surprised by Xu Ling's words. Xu Ling usually seemed steady, hardly the type to brag, yet today he had done the opposite and put the spotlight on himself. Normally he wouldn't even give a reaction when the whole arena screamed for him.
And Little Knight also knew the special place Jordan held in his father's heart.
Knight may have coached fewer NBA stars than any of the other men with a claim to being the second-greatest coach in college basketball, but he really had coached Jordan, briefly. It was 1984, when Knight was named head coach of the U.S. national team preparing for the Los Angeles Olympics.
Back then Jordan was the centerpiece of that team. Their time together was short, but Jordan's performances had planted a monument in Knight's heart that would never erode. Whenever he saw some so-called young talent emerging, he compared the man with the Jordan of those days.
And every time he finished comparing, he would conclude the prodigy was nothing special.
If Xu Ling wanted to compare himself to Jordan, he would have to face a full, no-blind-spot inspection from Knight.
In the locker room, Knight walked up to Xu Ling with anger on his face: "You want to be Jordan?"
Xu Ling really hadn't expected the old man to take a postgame interview jab so seriously: "What I mean is, as a goal, being Jordan is better than being Kobe."
"A goal?" Knight looked like he'd heard a ridiculous joke. "You're not even qualified to talk about goals! At your level, you're only qualified to talk about how you're going to finish the training I give you! When we get back from this trip, you're adding an hour of footwork drills every day!"
"Yes, Coach." Xu Ling agreed readily, as if he hadn't heard the anger in the words. "I think my defensive slides have a lot of details that need work too."
"Go take a shower!" Knight found that every conversation with this kid left him with the frustration of a fist sinking into cotton. He decided to end it, but before leaving he made sure to win the exchange back the most direct way possible: "And the next time a reporter says you're like somebody, you tell him you're like Pippen!"
Xu Ling watched the head coach's back and couldn't resist one more question: "So you really do prefer Pippen to Jordan, Coach?"
Knight whipped his head around, his gaze like a knife: "Because I've had enough of a Michael Jordan who thinks he knows everything! And Scottie Pippen, he fucking knows when to shut up and throw the damn ball to an open teammate! Now get out of my sight, immediately!"
Once Knight had gone, senior big man Darryl Dora leaned in and muttered, "Rookie, sometimes I really wonder how many guts you've got, talking to Coach like that?"
That was something Xu Ling had never been able to figure out: why did all these people act like mice in front of a cat around Knight, not even daring to breathe loudly?
Some say courage usually comes from ignorance.
In his previous life, Xu Ling had not yet been tempered by society, but he was already a fresh college graduate with a settled worldview and a clear sense of himself. He had mapped out his life's path plainly—until an accident flung him into this unfamiliar timeline.
Now he had only one thought left: fate had given him this extraordinary body, and if he didn't make a name for himself with it, he would be letting down this bizarre transmigration.
As for Bob Knight? Sorry—in Xu Ling's understanding, this legendary coach was roughly the equivalent of Coach Anzai in Slam Dunk, who retired and went off to coach a prefectural high school team. Maybe back in the day he'd been the all-conquering "White-Haired Demon," but now? He was just a stubborn old man killing time at a second-rate school.
Xu Ling simply knew his own goal very clearly. And when he was absolutely in the right, he naturally stood before Knight as an equal.
That was exactly what Knight was not used to, and the root of the other players' shock. No one had ever done it.
Xu Ling looked at Dora, his tone calm but cutting to the core: "The point isn't that I'm not afraid. The point is—what are all of you so afraid of?"
Xu Ling's first start, his first headline, the first time all his teammates saw him stay independent under Knight's intimidation—it truly won him his standing.
Even junior guard Martin Zeno, who had plenty of complaints about him before, came to his room to chat after they got back to the hotel.
In the games that followed, Knight used Xu Ling in a completely different way each time.
Against Little Rock, he was a pure scorer leading the team.
In the second game, against North Dakota State, Knight made him a shooter focused on catch-and-shoot off movement. Xu Ling carried over the touch from the first game, going 7-for-11 from beyond the arc, and on offense he barely took a single step inside. On shooting alone, he scored 30 again.
When reporters asked Xu Ling why he liked to shoot from a meter or two beyond the standard three-point line, he answered, "Isn't it obvious? The NCAA three-point line is too short."
Then came the last group game, against Gardner. Knight had Xu Ling fill in at the point and run the offense.
For once, Xu Ling wasn't loose, wasn't so at ease.
Xu Ling's ball-handling met the requirements of the point, but he was a scorer at heart. His playmaking came from the gravity of his own scoring; ask him to be a full-time playmaker and he was a little out of his element.
That night Xu Ling put up 18 points, 7 rebounds and 6 assists—along with 4 turnovers.
"You know what? Back when I told a friend of mine to draft MJ, he said they needed a center. Guess what I said?"
Not everyone would know the answer, but anyone with even a passing knowledge of NBA history would find that an easy question.
Xu Ling said, "You told your friend to play MJ at center."
"I damn well told him MJ could play the one through the five! Even in the NBA! And tonight, I only asked you to take on a little of the playmaking, and look at the pile of shit you produced! Ugly! Unbelievably ugly! It's an insult to my eyes!" At last, Xu had given Knight his chance to criticize him. "On that alone, you'd better never let the name Michael Jordan come out of your mouth again!"
Xu Ling didn't talk back. By his own standards, he really hadn't been as comfortable tonight as in the first two games.
He was angrier at his performance than Knight was.
That effort carried into the knockout round—the eight teams were cut down to four, and one win was all it took to reach the championship game of the Pete Newell Invitational, a shot at the champion's trophy and the $50,000 "grand prize."
Texas Tech faced Air Force in the knockout round. The Falcons had no player of extraordinary talent, but their core players were all seniors—mature, in sync, and a handful for anybody.
Before the game, Air Force forward Dan Nwaelele, SF, had clearly noticed Xu Ling's struggles the game before. During warmups he deliberately walked past Xu Ling and tossed off lightly, "So you're the legendary TTU Jordan?"
Xu Ling glanced at him. "Something you wanted?"
Nwaelele snorted. "I've seen plenty of cocky freshmen like you. You're about to get a lesson."
Xu Ling just kept bouncing the ball. He found these old-timers trying to get inside his head funny.
From the opening tip, Xu Ling played as if on a vendetta, going right at Nwaelele again and again. On the first possession, at the right mid-post, he pump-faked the experienced Nwaelele into the air with a lifelike shot fake, leaned in to draw the foul and contorted his body to finish through contact.
"Welcome to the knockout round, old-timer!" Xu Ling said quietly to Nwaelele after the free throw dropped.
On the next possession he shook Nwaelele completely with a wide crossover and drove for a dunk. Within a few minutes Nwaelele had two fouls and was back on the bench for good, and Air Force's defense fell into chaos.
"We have to trap him! Whatever it takes!" Air Force's head coach bellowed from the sideline.
The double-teams came as expected. Xu Ling wasn't a born playmaking master yet, but he was an outstanding offensive hub, with the awareness to widen his influence on the game and create for his teammates. Every time the double came, his pass found the open man in time.
Air Force showed their resolve. Their defensive rotations carried a burn-the-boats desperation—even when TTU's other players got wide-open looks, their first priority remained locking down Xu Ling, betting that the rest of TTU couldn't shoot them dead.
"These cowards don't even dare let you play one-on-one!"
During one dead ball, Alan Voskuil ran over and shouted it at Xu Ling, his tone a mix of helplessness and irritation at being disrespected.
For nearly the entire second half, almost every touch sent Xu Ling straight into a double- or even triple-team. He was shoved and yanked at by countless arms, and in the end he was held to "only" 14 points.
Yet that reckless, all-out doubling opened the floodgates for TTU across the board. Martin Zeno hit three open threes, and Alan Voskuil scored a team-high 22. Air Force bet wrong: they pushed all their chips in to stop one threat and were forced to let TTU's entire perimeter arsenal open fire, and the barrage sank their ship.
At the final buzzer, Texas Tech won by a lopsided margin without breaking a sweat and advanced to the final of the Pete Newell Classic. One more win stood between them and that trophy and the $50,000 prize.
Afterward, a reporter asked Xu Ling, "Eli, tonight you handed out a career-high 12 assists, but you scored your fewest points of the tournament. Was that a deliberate tactical shift from the coaching staff?"
"When the other team keeps sending two or three guys to 'entertain' me, I'm reminded of a simple basketball truth," Xu Ling answered calmly. "The smartest pass usually comes as a gift from the defense. Though honestly, I do miss those good old days when I could just solve things one-on-one."
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Postgame Notes
2007 Draft Class: A Prospect Watch Report
By Chad Ford
Posted: December 9, 2006, 9:40 a.m. ET
After a relatively flat draft year, we finally have the first signs of a thrilling "golden generation." It's far too early to draw conclusions, but as the early NCAA season unfolds, freshmen around the country are beginning to emerge. Below is a ranking of the top freshmen you won't want to miss over the next year—the players who could make waves in the 2007 NBA draft.
The Top Three: The fight for No. 1 and No. 2
No. 1 Greg Oden
Five games, and largely with one hand, but Greg Oden has already proven beyond doubt that he is the most dominant big man in college basketball. Oden still hasn't recovered from the wrist injury he suffered over the summer, yet his play remains astonishing. Defensively he is already a nightmare for opponents, and his shot-blocking and rebounding have been impressive. Once his right wrist is fully flexible again, his efficiency on offense will climb further. Barring a catastrophic injury—a torn ACL, say—he is the surefire No. 1 pick in 2007.
No. 2 Kevin Durant
Greg Oden may lock up the top spot because of the scarcity of centers, but he is not the best freshman in this class. That honor belongs to Kevin Durant. To find a freshman who has been more spectacular in a major NCAA conference, you'd have to go back to Carmelo Anthony.
Durant shows extraordinary talent at every level of the game. He can slash into the paint to score and shoot accurately from outside, and despite a relatively slender frame he has already become a double-double machine. He plays with fearless leadership, and some scouts have called him a cross between Dirk Nowitzki and Kevin Garnett. Barring surprises, he will firmly hold the No. 2 spot in this draft.
No. 3 Joakim Noah
Noah's rise seems inevitable. Last season he led Florida on a Cinderella dream season. Had he chosen to enter the 2006 NBA draft, he likely would have been the No. 1 pick. But with this class of super-freshmen arriving on campus, and with NBA scouts examining Noah's game more closely, we expect his ranking to slip a little; he will probably be taken among the top few picks of the lottery.
Other prospects to watch
Beyond those three, this class is full of talented freshmen who could end up in the NBA first round, and some of whom could reach the league as soon as next season. Here are 10 names you should start getting familiar with and following closely:
Wayne Ellington, SG, University of North Carolina
Paul Harris, G/F, Syracuse University
Ty Lawson, PG, University of North Carolina
Mike Conley, PG, Ohio State University
Quincy Pondexter, F, University of Washington
Gerald Henderson, SG, Duke University
Lance Thomas, PF, Duke University
Robin Lopez, C, Stanford University
Stephen Curry, G, Davidson College
Eli Xu, G/F, Texas Tech University
Chapter 7