Persuasion

"What do you mean?" Westbrook's eyes were full of confusion. Yang Shuai's gaze went to the wristband on Westbrook's right wrist. "KB has become one with you now. The more successful you are, the more people will come to know him; conversely, if you never succeed, then naturally no one will ever notice him." Westbrook didn't argue. American basketball produced talent in abundance — never mind someone who had died young; even the prodigies whose careers had been wrecked by injury, how many people actually knew their names? He set down his wrap and looked at Yang Shuai. "What exactly are you trying to say?" "I think you'll find it very hard to succeed at ULA." Yang Shuai's tone was calm. Westbrook's body visibly stiffened, his eyes turned sharp, and he slammed the wrap in his hand back down onto the plate. If he hadn't already eaten two of Yang Shuai's wraps, he would have turned and walked out. But Yang Shuai met Westbrook's gaze, unhurried. "ULA's point guard right now is Jordan Farmar. Only a sophomore, he's already the indispensable engine of Coach Ben Howland's system. Their backup point guard, Darren Collison, as a freshman could already lock down opposing guards — the coaching staff deeply trusts his defense and maturity. Even with your talent, if you went there, you could only be the third point guard." Westbrook said nothing, but the look in his eyes visibly eased. Since he had chosen ULA, of course he knew the situation there; what Yang Shuai described was indeed very likely what awaited him. Seeing this, Yang Shuai pressed on. "Maybe in a year or two, Jordan Farmar will leave NAA for the NBA, and maybe in three or four years Darren Collison will do the same. But by then you'd already be a senior. How many NBA teams would take a senior — and even develop him as a cornerstone?" "They might not stay in NAA that long." Westbrook shook his head. "True, that possibility does exist." Yang Shuai didn't argue back; he simply followed Westbrook's words onward. "They might even get hurt. But are you prepared to gamble your own future — no, your and KB's future — on that slim possibility?" Westbrook froze. He wanted to keep arguing with Yang Shuai, but found that everything Yang Shuai said was fact. If not for the promise with Barrs, going to ULA really wouldn't have been a good choice. Seeing Westbrook's reaction, Yang Shuai quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Though emotion outweighed reason in Westbrook, he hadn't yet lost his senses. "Kevin Durant, whom you mentioned yesterday — he was one of the best high schoolers in the class of 2006. But he turned down invitations from the University of North Carolina and the University of Maryland and chose the University of Texas, because that was a team guaranteed to build around him and let him show his talent to the fullest." Yang Shuai struck while the iron was hot, bringing up an example they both knew well. "Of course, if it were only that kind of opportunity, plenty of D1 teams in NAA could offer it. What makes Wake Forest special is this: it plays in the A League — once a powerhouse, now a team at the very bottom of that league. If you could lead a team like that to rise again in the most fiercely competitive league in NAA, wouldn't that be the greatest success of all?" Westbrook didn't speak. In his mind, it was as if two voices were roaring. One came from the past — Barrs with an arm slung around his shoulder, laughing, "It's settled — we'll make it into ULA together!" — a voice crisp and bright. The other came from the phantom of Barrs conjured by Yang Shuai's words, its voice low and burning: "Russell, go to Wake Forest and make something big happen. Go win the success that belongs to both of us!" The two voices tangled and collided, and his temples throbbed. "Russell." Yang Shuai's tone suddenly turned gentle. "I think if KB were still here, he wouldn't want you to join ULA either." "Impossible." Westbrook shook his head instinctively. "Is it really impossible?" Yang Shuai looked straight into Westbrook's eyes, as if trying to see another person through them. "When the two of you made that promise, it was your sophomore year, and you were still far too weak then. Getting into a powerhouse like ULA was, in KB's eyes, already the best possible outcome. But now you've grown far stronger than you were back then. Would he still see it that way?" As Yang Shuai spoke, he lightly tapped a finger against Westbrook's chest. "A true brother would never chain you to a promise from the past. He would only push you toward a bigger stage." Westbrook stared at Yang Shuai with wide eyes. That single finger seemed to pierce straight through his chest, and the memories buried deep in his heart came surging out. When he first started high school, he had been thin, frail, and short. Everyone said that rather than playing basketball, he was better suited to becoming a mathematician. He loved basketball then, but reality had beaten him down until he believed he could never even make the NAA D1. It was Barrs who kept encouraging him, who helped him improve his game, and who made the ULA he himself was headed for into a promise between the two of them. Yang Shuai was right. Barrs hadn't just wanted to play alongside him — he had wanted him to believe in himself, to reach a bigger stage. "Oh, right." Yang Shuai withdrew his hand as if suddenly remembering something, though his tone turned especially solemn. "At noon I told our director of scouting KB3's story. He found it deeply meaningful and is preparing to establish a 'KB3 Spirit Award,' to encourage players who battle on the court the way KB3 did." Westbrook's eyes went wider still. If Wake Forest truly did that, it would mean that no matter whether he ever made it in the end, KB3's story would be known by more people. After a long while, he lowered his head, and his right hand clenched hard around the wristband on his left wrist, the one that read "KB3," his knuckles white from the force. In the noisy restaurant, it seemed only the sound of his slightly ragged breathing remained. Yang Shuai said nothing more, only waited quietly. Who knows how long it was before Westbrook relaxed his clenched hand, slowly ran his fingertips over the engraved "KB3," let out a long breath, and lifted his head. His gaze was as sharp as ever, but the struggle and hesitation of moments before were gone. … "How on earth did you do it?" When Yang Shuai returned to Wake Forest University carrying Westbrook's answer — a promise to commit — Cole looked utterly incredulous. His remarks during the earlier persuasion had made it plain he hadn't held out much hope for this trip — and yet Yang Shuai had actually snatched the man right out of ULA's hands! "Russell is a man who holds feelings dear, so feelings were what I talked with him about." Yang Shuai had made his way through the workplace in his previous life; he still had the knack for sizing people up and tailoring his approach. "Of course, I think this will be the better choice for him too," he added. In the history Yang Shuai knew, Westbrook played two years of NAA ball in all: a struggling freshman season (3.4 points, 0.7 assists per game) and an outstanding sophomore season (12.7 points, 3.9 rebounds, 4.3 assists per game), helping the team reach the Final Four of the tournament before the Thunder selected him fourth overall in the 2008 draft. But that whole chain of events had rested on many preconditions — or rather, on chance. First, Farmar would lead ULA into the NAA Tournament final this March and then declare for the draft and leave school, which would make Westbrook the team's backup point guard from his freshman year on. Second, ULA's starting shooting guard, Aaron Afflalo, would enter the draft in the summer of 2007, and with Darren Collison suffering a serious injury early in his junior season, Westbrook would get to start in his sophomore year and put up dazzling numbers, eventually forming a two-point-guard backcourt with a fully recovered Collison. Without that chain of events, Westbrook would most likely have stayed buried at ULA, just as he himself had said, not seeing his chance until his junior season — or even his senior one. But at Wake Forest, with Westbrook's talent, he could be a starter in his very first season. He would get his opportunity from the start. Of course, what results he could ultimately produce would still depend on how well the team came together. After all, even Yang Shuai had never seen Curry and Westbrook on the court together. Still, he was optimistic about the pairing: in playing style and in temperament alike, the two looked perfectly complementary. Cole nodded and smiled at that. Whether what Yang Shuai said was true didn't matter — as long as Westbrook believed it was, that was enough. "Are there any others on that list of yours?" Cole was clearly delighted with both of Yang Shuai's recruiting triumphs — he even seemed to want more. Yang Shuai shook his head. Ask him about next year or beyond, and he could still produce a few names, but for now there were no other suitable candidates. Seeing this, Cole didn't press, and turned instead to another matter. "The official visits for Curry and Westbrook — I'm putting those in your hands." Right now, Wake Forest's relationship with Curry and Westbrook extended only as far as the offers the school had made and the verbal commitments the two had privately given. Their joining would only be finalized once the official visits were complete and they had made formal commitments to join. And cases of players giving verbal commitments and then backing out were anything but rare in NAA — which made the official visits to come every bit as important.