The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 137 - 37: Father and Son

Right up to the halftime break, the fans at the venue were still immersed in Gan Guoyang’s 360-degree slam dunk.

Tonight’s game was not broadcast nationwide, only local TV station KOIN-TV was transmitting the signal to the Oregon area.

In fact, for this regular season, CBS and the NBA had signed a contract for nine nationwide broadcasts (excluding the All-Star Game leaves only eight), one more than last season.

The Trail Blazers, as an emerging team in the Western Conference that had garnered attention, were allocated one of the eight games, but the date was April 7, 1985, in Los Angeles against the Lakers, which was already at the end of the season.

The league implemented the so-called "Less is more" strategic policy (actually because no one was watching), and Stern stated that he wanted to present the best teams and the best games to the national audience, to win back the hearts of the NBA fans.

The most popular team of course was the Los Angeles Lakers; of the eight games, they occupied half, with four broadcasts, which indeed shows the Lakers’ significant status and popularity across America.

Following them closely were the Celtics with three games, the reigning champions were in their prime, and the game on February 17 against the Lakers especially drew everyone’s attention.

The big-city New York Knicks had two spots, one against Boston and one against the Lakers. New York, being the Jerusalem of American basketball, wouldn’t neglect the Knicks no matter how bad they were.

The 76ers, who had Doctor J and Malone, were allocated two slots, and the remaining ones went to the Rockets, Mavericks, and Trail Blazers—those teams that had secured high draft picks. Everyone wanted to see the performances of these much-anticipated newcomers.

Overall, the NBA office had maximized the use of these eight nationwide broadcasts. Big cities, big teams, legendary veterans, stars in their prime, and rising rookies all had coverage, while ensuring geographical diversity, trying to get more bang for their buck.

However, in later discussions about the NBA’s broadcasting strategy, the 1984-1985 season’s failure to broadcast the Chicago Bulls and missing out on Gan Guoyang’s debut dunk was still considered a huge regret.

Gan Guoyang himself would never be able to replicate that difficult spinning dunk in a game again.

By halftime, the Trail Blazers had gained a massive lead of 59:42, which meant the outcome of the game was no longer in question early on.

As the third quarter began, every time Gan Guoyang touched the ball, cheers erupted from the fans; they wanted to see Ah Gan score.

Gan Guoyang ramped up his offensive desire tonight, as his continuous baskets in the first half had set a good rhythm for scoring.

He continuously cooperated with Valentine and Drexler for pick-and-rolls, receiving the ball after cutting to the basket and scoring with a step-through move and a crafty hook shot.

Sikma had no answer to this method of scoring. It was difficult even to attempt a physical contest; only by coordinating a defensive trap with teammates might they disrupt Gan Guoyang’s shooting motion.

But the Supersonics had lost their fighting spirit, their shooting percentages dropped in the third quarter, and their defense was lackluster.

Tom Chambers, possibly affected by that slam dunk in the first half, seemed out of sorts throughout the third quarter.

He was the only reliable offensive option for the Supersonics in the first half, and with his inconsistency in the third quarter, their offense completely fell apart.

Gan Guoyang played more and more relaxed; as a center forged with a modern 21st-century big man as a template, playing at speed was no issue for him.

He did not have the bulkiness and sluggishness common in other centers of the time and could run at the same speed as Drexler, Kolter, Vandeweghe, and others.

His finishing ability left the fans in awe—as long as he got the ball within the three-second zone, he always found a way to get the ball into the hoop.

Hook shots, fake moves followed by reverse layups, swooping layups, left-handed layups, dunks, one-handed catches to avoid defense, and deftly tossing the ball in, among others.

Especially his agile hook shots—often, he could adjust his steps amidst a high-speed move to catch you off guard with a sudden hook shot.

Take the fast-break, where most centers would charge down the middle to go straight for the basket with a layup or dunk.

But Gan Guoyang could move along the wing and, even when opponents clung to him for a physical contest or to draw an offensive foul, he could receive the ball, adjust his steps, and hook shot it directly into the basket.

Coach Ramsay on the sidelines was scratching his head at all this—what kind of move was that! Yet this surprising tactic was very effective.

In the frequently crowded paint, this type of hook shot was much more efficient and less exhausting than a forceful attack at the rim—provided you had the skill.

Having already scored 17 points in the first half, Gan Guoyang went on a scoring frenzy in the third quarter, making 10 out of 12 shots and sinking all 4 of his free throws, totaling 24 points.

By the end of the third quarter, Gan Guoyang had already exploded for 41 points, while the Supersonics only managed 18 points in the quarter, fewer than Gan alone.

Initially, the Trail Blazers’ teammates hadn’t planned on continuously feeding him the ball, but as long as they passed it to him on the break, he always managed to score, so they just kept passing it.

This is the unwritten rule of the NBA regular season—you keep feeding the hot hand because the audience loves to watch star players score continuously, putting up impressive stats.

When the fourth quarter began, the Trail Blazers were ahead of the Supersonics by 33 points, and the game had completely lost its excitement, leaving Coach Lenny Wilkens with an extremely sour expression.

It was a devastating loss, especially since it came against a longtime rival and Wilkens’ former team, the Trail Blazers, and it gave him a bad feeling about the new season.

His premonition was accurate; it would be his last season with the Supersonics.

The fourth quarter became purely garbage time, and after playing for two minutes, Wilkens pulled his starters and sent in the reserves.

Seeing this, Ramsay also substituted his starters, letting the younger players get some practice in a treasured 10 minutes of playtime.

He told Gan Guoyang, "Gan, didn’t you say you wanted to get some practice in? You go on too, grab some more points while you’re at it."

Gan Guoyang said, "Dr. Jack, maybe I shouldn’t go back on? Going back on now... wouldn’t that be inappropriate?"

Having already scored 41 points, it indeed seemed improper to go back on the court during garbage time to pad his stats. Gan Guoyang knew the coach was just blocking his way.

"Really? Who was it just now that said, ’I’m a young player who needs more practice, don’t take me out, I want to stay on the court!’ And now you want to sit and rest by the court. Who’s the coach here, you or me?!"

This was it, Coach Ramsey had gone from being stubborn to completely obstructing him.

Gan Guoyang felt helpless and could only say, "You’re the coach."

Then he stood up from the bench to get ready to play, but Ramsey pushed him back down.

"Rest instead. I want you to be able to play until you’re 50."

The rest of the substitutes laughed like clowns, and Gan Guoyang covered his face with a towel, thinking that in the future he should joke less with this vindictive old man. He held a grudge too dang well.

At the very moment the game ended, Gan Guoyang stood up from the bench. His family and friends came over and took a treasured group photo with him, while the fans gave him their most enthusiastic applause.

A reporter from The Oregonian, Kerry Eggers, came over to interview Gan Guoyang, with a particular focus on that astonishing 360-degree dunk over a defender.

When asked why he chose to pull off that dunk, Gan Guoyang said, "It was because Tom Chambers was in front of me. I felt that if I collided with him directly, I might get charged with an offensive foul. But I also didn’t have time to change direction, so I decided to do a spin in the air. It worked out perfectly as I brushed past Chambers and dunked."

"Do you practice this move often?"

"No, my dunking isn’t bad, but as a center, I don’t really do fancy moves."

"Will you attempt this dunk again in a game?"

"Probably not. It was a spark of the moment thing, not part of my routine."

Gan Guoyang was very honest in his response. By the time the interview ended and he was ready to head back to the locker room, he found out that the player’s tunnel had been blocked by enthusiastic fans.

The Memorial Coliseum is a small venue, with low stands, making it easy for excited fans to jump down to the lower areas. The passionate young fans had blocked the tunnel completely.

Security at the venue sent reinforcements to form a human wall to block the fans, but Gan Guoyang, experienced in such situations, knew that the more they blocked, the more agitated the crowd would become and press forward, causing more congestion.

So, he shouted to the fans, "We’ve only won a single game, that’s all, just the first game, not the last one of the season! Calm down and go home! We’re going to have bigger victories in the future, and you’ll get used to it! Go home!"

Cooled by Gan Guoyang’s soothing words, the Portland fans’ excessive enthusiasm was tempered. Some received Gan Guoyang’s autograph, and they gradually dispersed, allowing the players to return to the locker room.

The coaches and friends from Gonzaga University drove back to Spokane overnight, while the Gan Guohui family stayed in a hotel downtown Portland.

Gan Youwei followed Gan Guoyang and Wang Fuxi home, and all along the way, Wang Fuxi was nervous, unprepared for the future father-in-law’s visit.

Fortunately, Gan Youwei was very amiable and quite pleased that Gan Guoyang found a Chinese girl as a girlfriend. Had he found a black, white, or colored girl, he would have needed to mentally prepare himself.

Gan Youwei seemed very calm about Gan Guoyang’s spectacular performance that night. As an older Chinese who had been through tough times, he was more cautious than optimistic.

He had purchased two Silkie chickens from Chinatown in San Francisco and brought them along, making a chicken soup late-night snack for his son, fearing he was too tired from the game and needed nourishment.

Watching Gan Guoyang drink the chicken soup, Gan Youwei said, "Son, victory and defeat are common in military affairs. There’s a saying in China, ’Don’t get cocky with victory, don’t get disheartened with defeat’—you should keep this in mind."

The chicken soup made by his dad tasted great. Gan Guoyang drank more than half of it in one go and smacked his lips, saying, "Dad, the way you’re talking, it sounds like I lost the game today."

"It’s precisely because you won that I need to tell you this. From the time you started playing basketball, you’ve hardly lost a few games, right? Professional games are definitely different from school games. Everyone is a top player from across the nation. It won’t be as easy as it was at school. If you lose a game in the future, you need to stand up quickly and look forward. Don’t hang your head. Got it?"

Gan Guoyang hadn’t really lost much during high school or college, winning all the way with losses being few and far between.

Seeing his son being pursued by everyone tonight, he was happy for him but also worried that the higher the praise, the harder the fall.

Gan Guoyang understood Gan Youwei’s feelings. Their generation was like this, always more worried about their children than optimistic, sometimes quite a dampener.

There was no helping it. Their younger days were too bitter and too turbulent, unlike most Americans who were blissfully happy, having it too easy.

"Dad, I understand what you mean. The game’s like shooting hoops. Even the best shots won’t always hit, and I’m not as fragile as you think. Don’t you feel that ever since I started playing, life has changed a lot compared to before?"

"Yes, it’s changed a lot, but some things remain the same," said Gan Youwei. Ever since that feverish soul-calling incident when Gan Guoyang recovered and started playing basketball, his life had taken unimaginably big turns.

But no matter the changes, he was still his son.

"I play basketball because I love the game. Whether I have titles or win games, that won’t change. My life isn’t built on victories and championships. Even if I lose every game and never win a championship, in others’ eyes I might not be the same person, but to me, and to you, I’m still myself. Wouldn’t you agree?"

Gan Youwei looked at his son, was silent for a little while, then said, "When are you going to give me grandchildren? That girl Fuxi seems pretty good."

Well, so much for that conversation. Gan Guoyang finished the rest of his chicken soup in silence and thought, You should get some rest too, Dad.