University of Michigan belonged to the Big Ten, and it was worlds apart from Wake Forest University. The only link between them was that, after being investigated, Michigan’s head coach said one sentence: “Wake Forest did it too.”
Speaking of which, it was something of a coincidence: the scout Michigan had sent out happened to film Cole.
But this couldn’t really be called bad luck, because if you walk by the river often, how can you keep your shoes dry?
The incident caused quite a stir, and the league eventually handed down heavy penalties. Michigan’s head coach was forced to resign. On Wake Forest’s side, although there was no clear evidence that head coach Prosser had been involved, they still received a three-game suspension—after all, regardless of whether he had participated or not, Wake Forest had benefited from it.
As for Cole, he was forced to resign.
This whole mess cast a shadow over Wake Forest’s season prospects.
Under the current penalty, Prosser was not only unable to coach the last two games, but he couldn’t even coach the first game of the NAA tournament.
The NAA wasn’t the NBA. The head coach held absolute power within the team and was as crucial as its core; his absence would inevitably have a huge impact.
The day after the penalty was announced, Yang Shuai went to the office after class and saw Cole packing his things in the neighboring office.
He walked to the door and knocked.
Cole stopped what he was doing. When he saw it was Yang Shuai, he gave a bitter smile. “You came.”
“Is there anything I can do?” Yang Shuai asked.
Cole shook his head, then picked up a file box from the desk and handed it to Yang Shuai. “You’ll need these later.”
Taking the box, Yang Shuai felt its weight, and his mood grew heavy as well.
Cole had shown him faith by giving him a chance, and watching him leave like that certainly didn’t make him feel good.
“Have dinner together tonight?” Yang Shuai suggested, treating it as a farewell for Cole.
Cole looked at Yang Shuai and finally nodded.
After helping load Cole’s things into the car, they drove to the newly opened barbecue restaurant they had been to before.
The food wasn’t as good as Real.Q restaurant, but it was decent enough—and, most importantly, the school was closer.
“What are your plans next?” During the barbecue, Yang Shuai also asked about Cole’s future.
After the signal-stealing incident, it was almost impossible for Cole to find a job in the NAA.
“I’ll probably go to the Lakers,” Cole said, picking up a piece of grilled meat and shoving it into his mouth, nodding with approval.
Yang Shuai was stunned. He never expected Cole would make it to the NBA before him.
But on second thought, it made sense. Cole had said before that stealing signals was very common in the NBA; it was, after all, a commercial league—if you could steal them, that was your skill.
Of course, Cole wasn’t going because of what he had done, but because of his credentials. He had worked in the NAA for many years. In the NBA he might not be able to remain a scouting director, but being an ordinary scout was more than enough.
“If you become a general manager in the NBA, don’t pretend not to know me,” Yang Shuai said, raising his glass.
Cole instantly laughed. Yang Shuai still spoke so well.
After finishing a cup of wine, he looked at Yang Shuai and said, “You do well with the team. Your future achievements will definitely not be small.”
Cole spoke from the bottom of his heart, but Yang Shuai just gave a bitter laugh.
If Cole hadn’t run into this trouble, Yang Shuai felt his goal of entering the NBA was getting closer, but now it was hard to say.
Because after Cole resigned, the successor would most likely be Davis Jones, with whom he had bad blood.
That was also another reason for his earlier heavy mood.
He had already recruited Stephen Curry, Russell Westbrook, and Ibaka to Wake Forest University, so naturally he couldn’t leave this season.
Seeing Yang Shuai’s reaction, Cole shook his head with a smile. After putting a piece of barbecue in his mouth, he said, “Have you noticed Prosser has been very good to you lately?”
Yang Shuai shook his head. He and Prosser did exchange quite a bit on tactics, but that had nothing to do with “very good.”
Seeing this, Cole shook his head with a smile. “You remember Vincent is going to Humboldt State University next season, right?”
Yang Shuai nodded. Cole had told him about this before.
“Prosser probably wants to groom you in the direction of assistant coach,” Cole said, swallowing his meat and picking up his cup.
“Did he tell you?” Yang Shuai found it hard to believe. Did Cole mean that Prosser was preparing to let him replace Vincent?
“I guessed,” Cole said, taking a sip of wine. “But it’s probably close to the truth.”
“How do you know?” Yang Shuai still didn’t quite believe it.
“Prosser has always been very arrogant. He’s willing to talk so much tactics with you—surely not because your tactical understanding is stronger than his?” Cole asked with a smile.
Yang Shuai shook his head. Although he was a transmigrator with the Heaven’s Eye, basketball tactics were heavily influenced by rules. This wasn’t as simple as recruiting players.
“Doesn’t he also let you attend coaching staff meetings? You’re just a scout,” Cole reminded him after putting down his cup.
Hearing this, Yang Shuai felt Cole might be telling the truth.
But after getting this information, he was instead at a loss.
He studied tactics to be a good scout, never thinking of becoming a coach. Especially the more he got into it, the more he didn’t feel he had that ability now.
“So just do your job well; as for the rest, you don’t need to worry at all,” Cole said, picking up a piece of barbecue for Yang Shuai.
Yang Shuai picked up his plate to receive it, saying thank you while nodding.
It wasn’t that he had suddenly changed his mind. It was that if what Cole said was true, then he could indeed put his mind at ease.
The NAA head coach’s power was very great. If Prosser valued him, he wouldn’t need to worry about Jones making trouble for him.
Time flew by. One week passed, and the impact of Prosser’s suspension was fully reflected that week. The Demon Deacons lost to the University of Virginia and the University of Miami in succession, ending the regular season with a losing streak.
This also made their final ranking in the A League drop from second to third.
And worse than the ranking was that they would face Duke University, ranked sixth, in the first round of the NAA tournament!
It was truly a case of old rivals meeting again.
And don’t look at it as third versus sixth. Since the league season only had sixteen games total, they actually differed by only two wins.
Wake Forest had played beautiful ball all season, but it looked like they would probably end on a disappointing note.
The only good news was that as the side with the better record, they had home-court advantage.
Just as Wake Forest was actively preparing for the upcoming NAA tournament, the school’s athletic director came to the training field and walked straight up to Yang Shuai.
Their conversation wasn’t long, but until the other person left, Yang Shuai still wore an expression of disbelief.
“What happened?” Westbrook was the first to notice Yang Shuai’s odd behavior on the sidelines. He walked over to Yang Shuai and asked.
Yang Shuai looked at Westbrook. “Hit me.”
“Huh?” Westbrook touched Yang Shuai’s head to confirm he didn’t have a fever.
“A pinch will do too,” Yang Shuai continued.
This time Westbrook did as told, pinching Yang Shuai’s arm.
“Hiss~” Yang Shuai winced in pain. Athletes couldn’t control that kind of force very well.
But this confirmed he wasn’t dreaming. He looked at Westbrook and said word by word, “He told me I’m now the team’s national scouting director.”
Hearing this, Westbrook’s eyes widened, but then he shouted excitedly and started pounding Yang Shuai’s chest. It was clear he was genuinely excited for him.
His actions also attracted the other players.
When they learned Yang Shuai had become national scouting director, their reactions were similar to Westbrook’s—all happy for him.
Although Yang Shuai had been just a scout before, everyone knew the team’s achievements this season were largely due to him.
The team’s interim head coach, Vincent, also came up to congratulate Yang Shuai.
The players were excited, but they didn’t understand why Yang Shuai was so uncharacteristically emotional—because Yang Shuai was still just a student!
In NAA history, there had never been a precedent of a student becoming national scouting director.
That was also why, when Cole resigned before, Yang Shuai hadn’t thought of competing with Jones for the position.
Now it was fine; he didn’t need to compete for it—the position was already his.
Perhaps, as Cole said, Prosser valued him and had spoken up for him; or perhaps Cole had recommended him to the sports department as successor before leaving.
But actually, even if they hadn’t done that, the sports department would probably have made this choice anyway.
Because now the Demon Deacons’ three core players were all recruited by Yang Shuai. Whether for stabilizing the situation at this special moment or for keeping those three in school in the future, they could only choose Yang Shuai.
Not to mention Yang Shuai’s late-round scouting ability was unmatched by anyone else. If Wake Forest wanted to maintain team competitiveness in the future, they had to keep Yang Shuai too.
Giving Yang Shuai the position in this situation was like adding a huge weight to the scales for keeping him in the future.
After everyone else dispersed, Yang Shuai let out a long breath and finally calmed down.
Originally he had still been worried about how to deal with Jones, but now it was fine—the person who should be worried was Jones.
Chapter 22