My days of working at the NBA

Chapter 38 A shameless bastard who forgets his principles for the sake of beauty

As Du Ze left the office, he closed the door behind him.

He walked a short distance, stopped, looked back, and then disappeared at the end of the corridor.

Du Ze did not return to the locker room, but turned at the fork in the road towards the training hall. In the distance, he saw light shining through the crack in the door of the passageway, as bright as day.

He was slightly surprised.

At this hour, there are still people training here?

He pushed open the door and saw that familiar face, and couldn't help but chuckle.

Who was it then? It turned out to be that ugly bastard Lawrence.

At this moment, Lawrence slumped in his chair, clutching a half-empty sports drink bottle, and grinned: "Did the old man drag me away for a lecture?"

"No, we just talked about the talent show."

"A talent show?"

Lawrence sat up straight. "What did he say?"

Du Ze walked to the cart, picked up a ball, weighed it in his hand, patted it a couple of times, and then casually replied, "Ask me if I've thought it through."

Lawrence rolled his eyes slightly, his tiny eyes barely sized: "Of course! I'm asking what he thinks of your future prospects?"

Du Ze held the ball in his arms and chuckled: "What kind of future can someone who averages 9.2 points per game have? He can only be a second-round pick, unless... he wins the championship."

Upon hearing this, Lawrence fell silent.

After a moment, he looked up: "And then? Didn't you say anything else?"

Du Ze had already stepped beyond the three-point line, aimed at the basket, and shot. The sound of the missed shot was particularly clear in the empty training hall.

As he jogged to retrieve the ball, he replied, "He told me to think it over carefully."

Lawrence's tone became cautious, even tinged with a hint of slyness: "Didn't I advise you to stay another year?"

Instead of answering directly, Du Ze asked, "Want to practice together?"

Not answering is itself an answer.

The old man called him into his office, not just to chat, but to persuade him to stay for another year.

There are many reasons, such as his 9.2 points per game in the regular season, which makes him seem less valuable, and he would at most be a second-round pick now;

For example, his fundamentals are too poor. He can't even dribble properly and can't even make a complete dribbling breakthrough move. Without the ability to face the basket with the ball, he will be at a disadvantage in the paint in the NBA with his height. This situation will not be very favorable for his draft report.

For example, while his performance in the tournament was outstanding, the sample size was too small and full of uncertainty, and no team was willing to take the risk by using their precious first-round pick.

All things considered, his selection in the second round is already a good result.

What is a second-round pick?

He is a reserve within a reserve team of an NBA team.

He'll most likely spend the rest of his time on the bench, he'll have a small chance of grinding out the last few minutes during garbage time, and he'll have an extremely small chance of making the rotation and playing as a substitute.

As for becoming a key player in the team's development program, that's practically a pipe dream.

Conversely, if one can break into the lottery rankings, the significance is entirely different.

That means you've won over the team; they've seen your potential and their potential for development.

A team that gets a lottery pick usually fails to make the playoffs. During the rebuilding period, rookies have room and time to grow, the team is willing to give them a margin for error, and their playing time is guaranteed.

In this new environment, one can receive more tolerance and have more time to learn.

So the old man Anderson wanted him to stay, promising to build the team's offensive and defensive system around him as the offensive core. He also offered to help him change his playing style, correct his positional sense, gradually transition him from center to forward, develop his ball-handling and face-up penetration skills, and even cultivate his back-to-the-basket low post game.

Once he makes it back to the tournament, with improved stats and skills, he'll have a chance to become a hot prospect in next year's draft and have a strong chance of being a first-round lottery pick.

In addition, Anderson promised to apply for a scholarship for him and provide him with a substantial sum of compensation.

It can be said that it is full of sincerity.

But Du Ze refused without hesitation.

Because he believed he could lead Missouri to the championship.

If he doesn't win the championship, even if he tries again the following year, his draft prospects are not necessarily good.

If the mission fails, the extra 4cm of wingspan will be lost, and an additional 4cm will be deducted.

With a height of 206cm and a wingspan of 209cm, his static physical attributes mean that even if he makes it to the tournament again, the late first round would probably be his ceiling.

What if we can't even make it to the championship again?

That would be the end of it all; even the second round would be in jeopardy.

Conversely, if he wins the championship this year and completes the system mission, with his physical talent, what difficulty would it be for him to advance to the first round with the prestige of the championship? Why should he waste time staying in Missouri?

This was his consideration.

Lawrence patted his backside and stood up: "Then forget it."

He paused for a moment, then said, "However, I can be your caddie."

As they spoke, they went to retrieve the balls and threw them over one after another.

Du Ze reached out, caught the ball, and shot.

Reach out.

Receive the ball.

Shot.

The movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were already quite impressive.

Time slips away unnoticed.

Suddenly, a surprised voice came from the doorway: "Huh? Why is someone here?"

Duze and Lawrence were interrupted and both turned around to look.

Two girls, both wearing training uniforms, were standing at the entrance of the training hall.

One was Black Pearl, with a ponytail, an exaggeratedly thick waist and shoulders, and legs that were almost as thick as her head.

When Du Ze saw her, he only focused on one thing: she was very dark-skinned, extremely dark-skinned.

How dark is it?

It was shiny and black, the kind of black you couldn't touch even if you turned off the lights at night.

The other one has flawless, tanned skin, large lips like Shu Qi's, a slightly wild look, and a well-proportioned, curvaceous figure. She's good at gaining weight, in all the right places and in all the wrong places...

Hmm, we can't see it yet.

Du Ze waved and greeted him casually, "Hi."

The two girls smiled and replied, "Hi."

Du Ze didn't say anything more and turned to signal Lawrence to continue.

result.

This ugly bastard stared intently at that black pearl, his two tiny eyes practically bulging out of their sockets.

Oh my god.

This lecherous look of his is a disgrace to men.

Du Ze bent down, picked up the ball from the ground, and threw it directly at the source: "Wow, a meteorite fell from the sky!"

Lawrence finally snapped out of it, awkwardly laughing and waving his hand: "Stop messing around."

Du Ze couldn't take it anymore and snapped, "Everyone's already gone, what are you still looking at?"

Lawrence replied calmly, "You lack an eye for beauty, and it's hard for me to explain that to you."

Du Ze wiped the sweat from his forehead, feeling a little cold.

nice?

That black pearl?

Is it considered beautiful to have a face that looks like a rare species?

He couldn't imagine how humans could have such aesthetic sense.

Lawrence then turned around and said, "You can pick up the ball yourself, I have something to do."

Then he took off running and quickly chased after the two girls.

Du Ze: "..."

Ha, you ugly bastard who forgets loyalty for the sake of beauty.