The once-boisterous Oracle Arena fell silent as if someone had pressed mute.
All the fans stared in disbelief at the scoreboard.
115:109
The Kings had taken Game 1 with a six-point victory.
Strictly speaking, a third seed beating the top seed in the West wasn't a huge upset. But as the unprecedented 73-win team, these Warriors had given fans endless room to dream.
Even before the playoffs began, many were convinced the championship was already in Golden State's pocket. Oracle Arena was thought of as an unshakable fortress.
But now, in the very first game of the Western Conference Finals, that fortress had fallen. How could fans not be shocked—or even unnerved?
Chen Yilun popped the last piece of popcorn into his mouth with satisfaction.
"Who would've thought?"
Brushing the crumbs from his clothes, he stood up slowly.
"I thought we'd have to wait another year or two. Jokić's growth has surpassed my expectations."
As a top-tier big man in the small-ball era, Jokić's original timeline hadn't been so smooth. First, he had to battle Jusuf Nurkić for playing time, even getting pushed aside to the point where he nearly thought about giving up.
Later, then-Nuggets head coach Mike Malone went against the grain, trading Nurkić and handing Jokić the reins. Only then did our "Professor Jokić" gradually start to show his dominance.
That path had taken nearly four or five full years before he even reached All-Star level.
But now, under Chen Yilun's guidance—with hands-on teaching from former Yugoslav great Divac, plus the coaching staff of Malone, Chip, Chris, and others—Jokić had grown into one of the league's hottest young centers in just two years.
"Fortunes change with time,"
Chip sighed.
"It just shows how different eras demand completely different skills. Back in our day, Jokić's style would've been called soft. Now they're calling it a 'stretch big'? Those media guys sure know how to make up names."
As one of the league's veteran shooting coaches, Chip's thinking was still stuck in the Stern-era philosophy of bruising paint battles. To him, a big man like Jokić still looked out of place no matter how he saw it.
"Hahahaha!"
Chen Yilun couldn't help but burst out laughing. "Uncle, that's just how times change. You've got to start adapting to the new era."
"Why should I care?"
Chip smirked. "I'm just a shooting coach. I don't draw up plays. Let you young guys stress about that!"
For Chip, team operations or league reforms mattered far less than his paycheck—and deciding where to eat tonight.
"Late-night feast tonight! My treat!"
In the locker room, Malone waved his hand grandly. The Kings players erupted in cheers at their coach's generosity.
But while Malone sounded magnanimous, his eyes never left Chen Yilun.
Catching the obvious hint, Chen Yilun gave a helpless smile.
So this is your trick to win the players over—while making me pick up the bill?
Turning to Peja, who stood just behind him, Chen Yilun whispered, "You heard him. Malone's taking the team out to eat. Put it on the team account later. Don't let those guys eat Malone out of house and home."
Since NBA games were always played during local primetime, the home team typically arranged boxed dinners for players in the locker room—for convenience, and to keep everything under control.
Boxed meals—simple and functional.
They were carefully designed by nutritionists to make sure players had the energy to perform. The flavor, though, left a lot to be desired.
That's why after games, with all the energy burned up, players usually went out for a late-night snack to recharge.
...
As one of California's biggest cities, San Francisco offered food options in endless variety.
"Ahhh!"
Jokić chugged an entire bottle of Coke in one go, letting out a massive burp.
"You'd only dare act this wild with your coach not around!"
Sitting beside him, Gay nibbled on a plate of barbecue and couldn't resist teasing him.
For this road trip, Chen Yilun had only brought Peja. Assistant manager Divac had been left behind in Sacramento to hold down the fort.
"I'm not exaggerating!"
Jokić, caught up in the fun, waved his empty Coke bottle proudly. "Back in Europe, I could down those massive bottles of Coke. Too bad my coach has had me drinking nothing but diet soda these past two years."
His words sent everyone at the table into laughter, the place erupting with joy.
Meanwhile, off at a side table, Chen Yilun sipped slowly at a glass of the shop's house-brewed beer.
"That's all you're eating?" Chen Yilun teased with a grin at the man across from him.
"This is fine," Butler said with a chuckle.
Unlike his teammates feasting away, Butler had a large salad and a plate of perfectly grilled beef in front of him—though the seasoning looked bland at best.
"Sometimes I wonder if you even have taste buds."
Chen Yilun shook his head. "Stuff like this? Even our team nutritionist wouldn't dare serve it—they'd be fired."
Once he started talking, he didn't stop.
"Don't you ever feel like you push yourself too hard?"
"Do I?" Butler stuffed his mouth with greens, chewing like a cow before swallowing. "Guess I'm just used to it. If I ate the heavy stuff again, it'd probably feel too much."
"This won't do!"
Chen Yilun knocked back the rest of his drink in one gulp. "You know what? This beer's actually pretty good. Pour me another!"
"You're human, not a machine. You need something outside of basketball too. Look at LeBron James—disciplined as he is, he still treats himself to tacos once a week."
Butler tilted his head, thinking it over.
"I really like brewing coffee. Grinding beans myself, making it with a machine. Does that count?"
...
(40 Chapters Ahead)
p@treon com / GhostParser