Chapter 3: The Elite Center

That night marked the first time in Ming Han’s life that he watched the sports channel. The NBA news for the day was being broadcast.

“Kobe delivers a stellar performance with 38 points, leading the Lakers to victory!”

Kobe—Ming Han had just heard this name from Yuhang earlier that day. Supposedly, he was the best scorer in the NBA.

“LeBron James records another triple-double and is on track for his second career MVP!”

LeBron James? The name sounded unfamiliar to Ming Han, but he could tell this was another formidable player.

Just then, Ming Han’s mother came into the room. She’d always thought her son was too withdrawn, reluctant to socialize and lacking in hobbies.

“Watching basketball? That’s good! If you have time, I’ll buy you a basketball so you can get some exercise,” she said with a cheerful smile.

Ming Han grumbled, “Mom! Most parents want their kids to spend more time studying. Only you are so carefree, always telling your son to go out and play. If I don’t do well in my exams, you’ll be largely responsible.”

His mother burst out laughing. “My son is so smart—something as trivial as studying is hardly a problem for him.”

Ming Han felt a wave of happiness. He had never met his father, and he and his mother had been almost inseparable since he was young. She was open-minded and never put much pressure on him. When other parents gathered to discuss which university their children should attend, his mother would just smile and say, “As long as he’s happy! I trust him completely.”

…

The next day, when Ming Han entered the classroom, Yuhang came over to him immediately. “I’ve added you to the basketball team’s roster of twelve. You’ll be the backup center for Zheng Yuan.”

Ming Han managed a wry smile. “Man, I just learned how to shoot, and not very well at that, and you’re already pushing me onto the grand stage.”

Yuhang replied, “Don’t worry, there’s over a month left. I’m confident I can make you a decent backup center. And next year, for the ninth-grade tournament, I’m determined to turn you into an outstanding center. When that time comes, you and I will dominate the basketball court.”

“Then tell me about the different positions!” Ming Han asked, his curiosity piqued.

Seeing that Ming Han was interested, Yuhang grabbed a pen and began to explain, “There are five positions in basketball: point guard, shooting guard, small forward, power forward, and center. But our class games aren’t so strictly divided. We generally just distinguish between inside and outside players.”

“So what position do you play?” Ming Han asked, puzzled.

“Point guard! My idol is Allen Iverson,” Yuhang replied earnestly.

Ming Han shook his head, indicating he had no idea who that was.

“The point guard is the core of the court, organizing the team’s offense and controlling the tempo. A point guard must have excellent ball-handling and penetration skills. The best at combining passing and driving in the NBA right now are Steve Nash and Chris Paul—both are masters of playmaking.”

Ming Han shook his head again, still quite lost.

Yuhang continued, “The center is the pillar of the inside. They must defend the paint, score from close range by any means, grab rebounds, and block shots…”

“A good team usually needs an outstanding center. There have been many great centers—Shaquille O’Neal was absolutely unstoppable at his peak! Now the league has Dwight Howard, Yao Ming, and Andrew Bynum, all of whom are very strong.”

“Listening to you, I can almost see myself next year as a top center, dominating the paint and becoming the savior of our Class Thirteen,” Ming Han joked, lapsing into a daydream.

Yuhang looked at Ming Han, exasperated by his sudden flight of fancy.

A top center—it was far from that simple!

“For now, don’t worry about being a top center. Your main goal is to first become a basketball-playing, wind-chasing youth,” Yuhang laughed heartily.

Just then, Daxu, who had just returned from the internet café, came over. He played small forward for the class team. Though his skills and shooting weren’t remarkable, his athleticism was explosive. He leaned over, grinning, “Ming Han, the saintly boy is going to play basketball now.”

In Ming Han’s eyes, Daxu was a true oddball. He was obsessed with gaming, especially a game called Dungeon Fighter. Since most of his meal money went to internet fees, he often went to the cafeteria early in the morning with a big bowl for plain porridge and egg soup—basic dishes that students would help themselves to after buying their main meal.

One time, an auntie from the cafeteria saw Daxu’s routine and was moved to tears at how pitiful the boy seemed. The next morning, she waited for him and, as he took his porridge, slipped him a packet of pickled vegetables. That day, as Daxu ate, he wondered aloud, “Do you think that auntie is enamored with my handsome looks?”

Ming Han patted Daxu on the shoulder. “How was your all-night gaming session?”

Daxu deflated like a punctured balloon. “All my best weapons got destroyed trying to upgrade them. This time, I’ve really lost everything.”

“But Ming Han, if you start playing basketball, the three of us can rule the eighth-grade tournament together.”

Yuhang glanced at Daxu with disdain. “Your shooting always makes me suspect you spent last night using your right hand for something other than basketball practice.”

Daxu laughed awkwardly. “Don’t say that, I’m practicing hard too. Let’s go train together later!”