Chapter 476: Guiding Westbrook, Bar Kick
After the Rookie Challenge, Russell Westbrook sought Chen Yan out for something unusual.
Not scoring. Not footwork. Not even ball handling.
Rebounding.
Westbrook had been watching all season. Chen Yan was piling up triple doubles, and he had even posted a ridiculous 20 plus 20 plus line. More than the numbers, what caught Westbrook's attention was the way Chen Yan turned defensive rebounds into instant offense. Grab it, explode up the floor, and suddenly the other team was sprinting backward like their shoes were on fire.
Most guards could not copy that style. Even with perfect timing, an average guard simply did not have the body to win those battles consistently.
Westbrook did.
He was big for his position, and his athleticism was violent. In his mind, if he could steal this one skill, his entire game would level up.
He walked up to Chen Yan in the hallway, eyes bright, voice eager.
"Hey, Chen. Tell me your secret for rebounding. Do I need to jump higher, or what?"
Chen Yan leaned against the wall, patient and relaxed. "A lot of guys fall into the same trap. They think rebounding is all vertical jump and explosiveness. That's not true. It helps, but it's not the foundation."
He pointed toward the court like he could draw diagrams in the air. "Look at Jason Kidd. Classic floor general, not some freak leaper. At his peak he was grabbing 8.2 rebounds a game. That doesn't happen because he can jump over people. It happens because he wins the play before the ball even hits the rim."
Westbrook nodded, then pressed again. "So what matters most?"
"Position," Chen Yan said immediately. "Boxing out is everything. Before the ball bounces, you get your body between your man and the rim. You get closer to the basket than he is, then you seal him behind you. If you do that, you don't need to be the highest jumper, you just need two hands."
He paused, then added the part Westbrook really wanted.
"But guards can't box out every time. Not with how spacing works. That's where crashing the glass comes in."
Westbrook's eyes sharpened. He had noticed it too. A lot of Chen Yan's rebounds did not come from standing under the rim. They came from him arriving like a missile from the perimeter.
Westbrook had tried that in games. He would throw himself into the paint, absorb contact, and still come away with only a couple rebounds, plus he always felt like he was one awkward landing away from getting hurt.
"So how do you crash and actually get the ball?" he asked.
Chen Yan spoke slowly, like he was coaching film study.
"You have to anticipate the bounce. The ball doesn't land randomly. The miss is connected to the shot angle and the shooter."
He started listing it out.
"Shots from the 45 degree areas, a lot of those rebound to the sides. Shots from the middle, more of them drop right under the rim. Corner shots can kick long to the opposite side, or they can bounce back toward the baseline. And the arc matters too. High arc shots usually bounce high but not far, often near the restricted area. Low arc shots can fly out. A guy like Tracy McGrady, when he misses those flat pull ups, you can sometimes pick the rebound up around the free throw line."
Westbrook blinked. Then he let out a breath like he had just learned a new language.
Chen Yan smiled. "And look, when I said vertical jump doesn't matter, I exaggerated. It matters, just not first. Once your positioning and anticipation are good, then jumping becomes the difference maker."
He tapped his own thigh. "You also need to understand how you jump. One leg, two legs, running leap, standing leap, it changes your timing and balance. The timing is huge. Jump too early and you're already coming down when the ball arrives. Jump too late and the ball is already in someone else's hands."
Westbrook nodded again and again, taking it in like a sponge.
He had never thought rebounding could have that much detail. To him, it had always been effort and aggression.
Now it sounded like chess.
Still, even Westbrook understood something else. Theory was theory. Basketball knowledge was useless if you could not apply it on the floor.
He would have to go practice it, and then prove it in real games.
…
That night, Kevin Durant invited Chen Yan out.
Durant did not usually go hunting for nightlife, but he was in a rare mood. He had just overwhelmed the Rookie Challenge, dropped 40, and took the Rookie Challenge MVP right out of Chen Yan's hands.
For Durant, it mattered. It was the only event he had all weekend, and he wanted something to show for it.
For Chen Yan, the Rookie Challenge was the smallest item on his calendar. He had a full weekend ahead, and saving his legs mattered more than chasing another trophy.
Chen Yan called Jordan too, and the three of them headed to one of the hottest clubs in Phoenix.
All Star Weekend turned the city into a carnival. There was a long line outside, but Chen Yan walked straight in. In this town, he did not wait.
They got a table. The music thumped hard enough to shake your ribs. The lights flickered like lightning trapped indoors.
Jordan stared around like a kid at his first amusement park. Durant tried to look calm, sipping his drink, but his eyes kept roaming the room.
Jordan leaned toward him, amused. "How about that one?" He pointed at a woman nearby.
Durant glanced over like he did not care. "Not bad."
Jordan pointed again, this time at a tall model with long legs. "And that one?"
"She's alright," Durant said, trying to sound bored.
Jordan pointed to another woman dancing not far away, curvy and impossible to miss.
Durant's composure finally cracked. He set his glass down fast. "Man, come on. She has to be, what, a G cup?"
Jordan answered like he was reading a scouting report. "H cup."
Durant stared at him. "You know her?"
"I saw her in a magazine," Jordan said. "Her name is Jordan Carver."
Chen Yan cut in, dry as ever. "KD, this might be your only chance in life to dominate Jordan."
Durant swallowed. Thought about it. Then did nothing.
That was Durant off the court. He wanted to make a move, but he hated the idea of failing. In public, in front of people, with cameras everywhere, he would rather look away than risk getting rejected.
Jordan watched him hesitate for half a second, decided Durant was not interested, then walked over himself.
He started talking. She laughed. He laughed. They exchanged numbers like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Chen Yan leaned back and spread his hands. "KD, your ability to seize opportunities needs work."
Durant shrugged. "I'm good."
Stubbornness was Durant's other superpower.
Chen Yan lifted his glass anyway. "Cheer up, MVP. Tonight is your night."
Durant finally smiled. "Cheers."
They clinked glasses.
Then Durant's eyes lit up again. "Chen. Two Asian girls. Over there. You like that?"
Chen Yan followed his gaze. Two beautiful girls stood near the edge of the crowd.
"They're beautiful," Chen Yan admitted. "But I'm not interested. I have a girlfriend."
Durant smirked. "Taylor isn't here."
Chen Yan gave him a look. Durant laughed like he was joking, but not completely.
Before Chen Yan could say anything else, 2 big guys stepped up to the girls.
The conversation looked normal at first, until one of them tried to get handsy. One girl shoved him away.
Her friend did not hesitate. She splashed her drink straight into his face.
The area around them erupted. People screamed, then laughed, then backed up, the way crowds always do when they smell a fight.
The other guy grabbed one girl's wrist.
She reacted instantly, drove the pointed heel of her high heel up into his groin, and dropped him like a switch had been flipped.
Durant saw it and instinctively clutched his own crotch like he felt it through the air.
"God," he muttered.
Then he grinned. "Oh, this is about to get good."
He finished the sentence and realized Chen Yan was no longer beside him.
Durant turned his head.
Chen Yan was already there.
He sprinted across the floor and planted himself between the girls and the two men, body square, posture calm, like he was stepping into a defensive stance on the court.
One of the men, furious and soaked, raised his hand like he was about to swing at the girl.
Chen Yan did not wait.
A sharp side kick snapped out, clean and fast, and the man crashed to the floor.
The other guy, still half folded over from the kick, grabbed a beer bottle with his free hand and lifted it like he thought a weapon would change the math.
It was not a bad idea.
He was just too slow.
Chen Yan stepped in and drove a straight punch into his face before the bottle could come down.
The man fell like gravity doubled.
Two clean knockdowns, back to back.
Jordan, watching from the table, whistled loud enough to cut through the music.
"MVP!"
That single shout lit the room up.
People recognized Chen Yan instantly. A chant started, then grew. Phones came out from everywhere. The word MVP rolled across the club like a wave.
Chen Yan exhaled through his nose, annoyed.
He had wanted to end it quietly. Handle it fast, protect the girls, and sit back down.
Jordan had turned it into a highlight reel.
.....
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