The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 249 - 132 Mist
Since last summer’s training camp, Gan Guoyang had never been late.
It wasn’t just that he never was late, but he was always the first to arrive, come rain or shine.
When the second person arrived at the training ground and saw Gan Guoyang, he was usually already drenched in sweat, and you couldn’t tell how long he had been silently training.
His persistence and determination earned the respect of the entire team, and even indirectly cured Drexler of his habit of oversleeping.
Surprisingly, at the crucial Western Conference semifinals, Gan Guoyang was absent from training, which made all the Trail Blazers players uneasy.
The hotel staff said that Gan Guoyang had left early but had not returned since.
Adelman saw his note on the bedside table: Out for a stroll. Please excuse me from practice. Don’t worry.
After Ramsay was informed, he didn’t ask further and told the players, "Ah Gan has gone to buy plane tickets to Los Angeles for everyone."
The team members felt somewhat relieved. In the other Western Conference semifinals matchup, the Lakers were already leading 3:0, leaving no chance for the Jazz.
During the morning practice, Ramsay changed the game plan, instructing the players not to argue with the Nuggets over the pace anymore but to engage in a fast offense like them for the fourth game.
"We are also a strong offensive team," Ramsay said.
While Ramsay was an offensive coach, his style differed from Doug Moe’s unstructured freedom of offense. Ramsay’s set plays and fast breaks were systematic, though this system seemed somewhat outdated by 1985.
As the impact of individual player abilities on the game grew, the influence of tactics on the outcome was diminished. At certain stages, an overly rigid tactical system could become a constraint to the players.
Ramsay thought to himself that Ah Gan’s absence might be a blessing in disguise. It seemed like a preordained arrangement.
In the afternoon, Gan Guoyang returned to the hotel. He had run out to a shopping mall in the morning, buying quite a few things and taking many photos.
He visited Denver’s famous art museum, specifically the China Gallery, where he admired Han Dynasty pottery, Tang Dynasty tri-colored glazed pottery, Qing Dynasty jade works, and authentic works of Qi Baishi and Zhang Daqian, taking photos as keepsakes.
Everyone wondered why Gan Guoyang had skipped team practice. He just smiled and did not reply.
Drexler complained, "I’m late, and Jack nags me every day. You simply didn’t show up, and Jack doesn’t even fart in your direction."
Gan Guoyang said, "I asked for leave; I left a note on my bedside."
On the morning of the game day, the Trail Blazers carried out their pre-game shooting practice, and Gan Guoyang was still absent.
He hadn’t gone anywhere but locked himself in his hotel room for the entire morning without leaving.
In the afternoon, he joined his teammates and went to the venue for warm-ups, from three-thirty to four-thirty, just to get moving a bit.
However, Gan Guoyang only did some stretching exercises. He didn’t engage in dribbling or shooting warm-ups.
At six-thirty in the evening, in the locker room during pre-game preparations, Ramsay didn’t go through any tactical deployment or watch game videos. Instead, he led them in visualization training.
Everyone sat cross-legged on the floor, following Ramsay’s guidance to imagine the dismal beating they took from the Nuggets in the previous three games and how they would respond that night.
"We will launch fast offenses, we will constantly attack the Nuggets’ basket. They are fast, but we are faster. We won’t miss any opportunities, and we won’t slack on defense either. Run, run, keep running. Before you run out of steam, the opponent will definitely wear out first."
After coming out of the meditative state, the players entered the court together.
Gan Guoyang appeared to be as normal, no different from usual.
After the opening ceremony had ended and both teams were preparing to take the court, Vandeweghe asked Gan Guoyang, "Ah Gan, why didn’t you participate in training these last two days?"
Vandeweghe thought, you said you’d give me good memories. Don’t blow your own trumpet too hard and end up leaving me with a deeper shadow.
Gan Guoyang said, "I just wanted to rest and relax a bit."
"Really? That doesn’t sound like you. You didn’t need rest before."
"KiKi, will you play basketball every day in the gym this summer?" Gan Guoyang suddenly asked.
"Hmm... No, sometimes I need to get away from basketball for a while," Vandeweghe admitted honestly.
He was the kind of person who would truly relax during the off-season, not touching a basketball at all, because for him, basketball was work—why would anyone worry about work during vacation?
"Ever since I started playing basketball, there hasn’t been a day I didn’t play. Basketball is like a part of me. I get up early every day to run and train, not for work, but because my body’s energy and the impulse to play need an outlet; otherwise, I feel terrible. It’s always been like this all these years," he said.
Gan Guoyang took off his jacket and walked onto the court, saying, "I tried not touching a basketball for 36 hours, and now all I want to do is shatter the backboard. I swear this is the last time I do this. To win, I need that hunger. But I don’t want to try it anymore; it was really too uncomfortable, KiKi."
Vandeweghe watched Gan Guoyang’s broad back as he walked onto the court, and only one thought came to mind: This guy is truly a monster.
No, everyone had long known he was a monster; in fact, he was a monster among monsters, practically a demon.
His body, his skills, his basketball IQ—all top-notch—but all within Vandeweghe’s understanding.
However, his willpower and desire exceeded what someone like Vandeweghe, who treated basketball as a job, could fathom. It was an unknown fog, clear only to those who were also in the midst of it.
Vandeweghe had a premonition that tonight Gan Guoyang would absolutely annihilate Denver. He was certain of it.
Before the referee tossed the ball into the air, Vandeweghe realized his own body was trembling slightly.
That uncontrollable sensation, as if he was about to witness a marvel, accelerated Vandeweghe’s heartbeat.
He felt as if he were being infected by Gan Guoyang’s strong aura and desire to win at basketball, every pore in his body opening up, his mind and eyes as if infused with a pool of clear water becoming bright and transparent.
He suddenly felt very confident; he looked at the familiar hoop upcourt, which seemed as vast as the ocean.
He felt that he could throw the ball in from where he stood, and this confidence intoxicated him.
"Is this...is this Ah Gan’s game mentality? Could it be, is this the mindset?"
As the referee threw the ball into the air, Gan Guoyang got the tip-off against Wayne Cooper.
Vandeweghe received the ball and for a moment, nearly 0.1 seconds, he almost couldn’t help himself, almost throwing it towards the hoop from midcourt.
When he calmed down, that confident, intoxicating state vanished, and he felt as though he had dropped from the clouds to the ground, to the floor of the noisy McNichols Sports Arena.
He passed the ball to Valentine, who crossed halfcourt and then passed the ball to Gan Guoyang on the top of the arc.
Gan Guoyang caught the ball, adjusted, no one in front, and even as a center capable of shooting threes, who would start off the game with such a shot?
Wayne Cooper understood Ramsay; he knew that in this position, no Trail Blazer would launch a direct attack at the beginning. He would surely pass the ball.
However, Gan Guoyang suddenly took a straight-on three-point shot without any hint, and the ball flew straight towards the hoop.
Cooper instinctively looked back.
"Swish!"
Before the Nuggets fans could even get ready to watch the beginning of Game 4, the first basket had arrived.
It was a three-pointer from Gan Guoyang, and it went in.
The Nuggets players were stunned—did this guy just shoot like that, and it went in? 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮
It was bold, an unimaginably confident move, and... a shot selection that even Doug Moe would criticize.
There was nothing to do but to take the ball out at the baseline, while Doug Moe was still sitting courtside, his suit not yet taken off, his tie not yet loosened, his hair not yet completely disheveled.
He asked his assistant coach, "What just happened?"
"Uh...Ah Gan just made a three-pointer," replied the assistant.
"What?" Doug looked up at the scoreboard and saw it was true, cursed, "Shit!"
As Gan Guoyang ran back to defense, he let out a long sigh.
To Vandeweghe not far away, he said, "Playing basketball feels so damn good."
