Sports Medicine Master System-Chapter 46: Alcohol Fire
It had been a month since Chen Yu arrived in Orlando, but this was his first time inside the TD Waterhouse Center.
He’d seen in the news that there were plans to renovate it.
And it certainly looked its age.
Yesterday was the first game since Paul Plessey took over as head coach—a home game against the Nuggets.
With Tracy McGrady out, they had, unsurprisingly, lost again.
The Magic were now 5-15, the third-worst team in the Eastern Conference.
The only two teams with worse records, the Bulls and the Hawks, were leaving everyone in the dust on their race to the bottom.
Yesterday was December 7th. Their next four-game road trip didn’t start until the 11th, giving them three full days of rest.
But Plessey had scheduled a practice for the afternoon anyway.
Tracy McGrady was there too, undergoing physical therapy with Houston.
Even though he was Billings’s protégé, no one was about to throw away their job.
A physical therapist position with an NBA team was far more cushy than working at a hospital or clinic, and the pay was better too.
Weisbrod greeted Chen Yu personally, his smile wide. His objective was clear: he wanted Chen Yu to be the Magic’s team doctor.
The reason was simple: Hill trusted Chen Yu implicitly. To repair the team’s relationship with the star player, the best way was to hire Chen Yu.
So, after their greetings, Weisbrod first gave Chen Yu a tour of the team doctor’s office.
The office had already been completely cleared out, with no trace of Billings left behind.
"Chen, about the team doctor position," Weisbrod said, "we’re very serious. Please, reconsider our offer. We’re prepared to offer you an annual salary of 300,000 US dollars."
Chen Yu’s expression remained unchanged.
’That wasn’t a lowball offer.’
’Billings had only been making a little over two hundred thousand.’
’This year’s average salary data hadn’t been released yet, but it was likely to be similar to last year’s—around 2,400 US dollars a month, for an annual income of less than 30,000.’
’At 300,000 a year, my salary would be incredibly high.’
"Where’s Tracy?" Chen Yu asked.
Weisbrod, unhurried, led Chen Yu to the practice court.
On the court, the Magic players had already started their drills. Their reactions to Chen Yu’s arrival varied.
Monty and Brown, for instance, just waved from afar.
The others, being less familiar with him, just watched curiously.
After crossing the practice court and entering the adjacent weight room, Chen Yu saw Tracy McGrady. His right shoulder was taped up, and he was performing simple rehab exercises under Houston’s guidance.
Though the exercises weren’t for his shoulder, but for other parts of his body.
Houston’s expression flickered when he saw Chen Yu enter. He quickly stood, offered a brief greeting, and then faded into the background, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.
"Chen!"
McGrady stepped forward and shook Chen Yu’s hand. Despite the team’s disastrous state, he held no grudge against Chen Yu. Just as Chen had said, they needed to do the right thing.
Chen Yu’s gaze landed on McGrady’s shoulder.
"Let me take a look." Chen Yu had McGrady sit up straight, then performed a lift-off test and an internal rotation resistance test.
A moment later, he stopped.
"It’s not serious. Just a mild, Grade 1 strain." Chen Yu could see the injury with perfect clarity.
’He’s young and strong, after all. For an athlete like him to suffer a Grade 2 or Grade 3 strain, it would take a massive impact.’
Houston stood by silently. Chen Yu was a professional orthopedic surgeon; performing a physical exam to confirm the grade of a strain was standard procedure.
The only thing he was curious about was how Chen Yu planned to treat it.
McGrady voiced the same question.
’With the Magic’s current record, they were headed straight for the lottery. But I didn’t come to Orlando to just coast. With Hill out, I need to be the one to step up.’
Chen Yu thought for a moment, then said, "If you’re in a hurry to return, you could probably play on the 12th."
He was injured on the 5th. Today was already the third day since. By the 12th, a week would have passed.
Normally, a mild muscle strain like his would need two weeks to recover.
’With my methods, one week should be enough.’
Weisbrod’s eyes lit up. In that case, he would only miss one more game.
They played the Clippers on the 11th and had a back-to-back against the SuperSonics on the 12th. They could have McGrady fly straight to Seattle on the 12th.
Houston, however, turned pale. ’A one-week recovery? That’s way too fast.’
He recalled the miracle of Hill’s swelling disappearing in twenty-four hours. Wash had talked about it on TV, and Billings had witnessed it firsthand.
’Chen Yu really does possess some unbelievable medical techniques.’
"Are you on any medication?" Chen Yu asked again.
Houston quickly replied, "Voltaren."
Diclofenac sodium. Chen Yu prescribed it himself sometimes.
"Wait here a second." 𝒇𝒓𝙚𝒆𝔀𝓮𝓫𝒏𝓸𝙫𝓮𝓵.𝓬𝙤𝙢
Chen Yu went back to his car to get something.
When passing by the practice court, Chen Yu stopped for a moment.
Paul Plessey, with his pencil mustache, stood on the sidelines discussing something with two assistant coaches.
Meanwhile, the Magic players, urged on by their trainers, were running through various drills. Some were gasping for breath while doing shuttle runs, while others used resistance bands for explosive power training.
The focus was clearly on conditioning.
And the intensity was brutal.
Chen Yu frowned slightly.
’For professional players like them, the offseason is the time for intensive conditioning to improve their physical stats.’
’But during the regular season, with its dense game schedule, the athleticism they built up gets steadily depleted. It’s a declining curve.’
’Player injuries become more frequent late in the season precisely because they’re worn down from overexertion.’
’Under these circumstances, mid-season training should focus on injury prevention and maintaining game-readiness, not high-intensity workouts.’
Chen Yu didn’t say anything, though. He just went to the parking lot to get what he needed.
With Hill, Hardaway, and now McGrady as his patients, Chen Yu had already spent the morning running all over Orlando buying supplies.
After a moment of thought, Chen Yu picked up a jar of medicinal wine.
It was a prized concoction from a traditional Chinese medicine clinic in the Chinese District.
Chen Yu’s examination had revealed a pre-existing muscle contusion in McGrady’s right shoulder. Combined with the new strain, there was some bruising, which he figured he might as well treat at the same time.
Returning to the weight room.
In the spacious weight room, a few other players were already lifting iron with the help of a trainer.
Under the curious gazes of the others, Chen Yu poured out a bowl of the medicinal wine.
McGrady smelled the strong aroma of alcohol and couldn’t help but ask, "Chen, are you going to make me drink this?"
Chen Yu chuckled. "You can if you really want to."
It was just a tincture of herbs meant to invigorate blood flow and disperse stasis. Chen Yu hadn’t bought it for drinking; he intended to use it for a fire treatment.
After motioning for McGrady to take off his tank top and remove the athletic tape, Chen Yu casually lit the bowl of medicinal wine.
"This might be a little hot. Just bear with it."
McGrady was about to ask why it would be hot when Chen Yu’s hand shot out, impossibly fast. He scooped up a handful of pale blue flame and slapped it onto McGrady’s shoulder.
"Fuck!" Houston couldn’t help but shriek.
McGrady’s eyes flew wide, his mind reeling with a single thought: ’Is Chen Yu trying to burn me to death?’
Chen Yu’s hands didn’t stop. He repeatedly dipped them into the flames, slapping them again and again all around McGrady’s shoulder.
He started by covering a wide area, then focused on striking specific acupoints.
Weisbrod knew Chen Yu had some bizarre treatment methods, like sticking needles in people. He could never understand how hurting someone could possibly have a healing effect.
He had steeled himself for whatever came next, even thinking of it as a chance to broaden his horizons. But seeing Chen Yu’s hands wreathed in fire, like a flame mage straight out of a fantasy novel, completely shattered his worldview.
’This guy... he knows some kind of mystical magic from the ancient East!’
