012: Could He Beat Darko Milicic? (Please Follow!)

Before 1995, NBA teams rarely paid attention to teenage prospects.

When the Seattle SuperSonics drafted "Rain Man" Shawn Kemp in 1989, they had nothing but grainy, low-quality videotapes of him playing against inferior competition—no comprehensive scouting reports, no background files, no in-depth analysis. It was essentially a blind gamble. At the time, teams preferred players in their early twenties with years of NCAA experience. Teenage phenoms? No matter how talented, they were still just kids playing against other kids. A strong performance against children proved nothing; once these raw, immature talents were thrown into the professional league, they were often exposed as nobodies.

But the emergence of Kevin Garnett in 1995 changed everything. His sudden rise forced the league to realize that college players were not the only option. If they could identify a gifted child, why not draft him early and develop him personally? The subsequent rise of players like Kobe Bryant and Tracy McGrady made the NBA prioritize the teenage demographic. Scouts from professional teams began appearing frequently at high school games to compete with university recruiters, and figures like Sonny Vaccaro, looking to carve out a slice of the pie, founded the famous ABCD Camp, providing a perfect stage for teenage prospects. The NBA had fully opened its arms to high schoolers, and skipping college to bring talent directly to the NBA became a trend. Now, with LeBron James setting the country ablaze, the atmosphere of draft youthfulness had reached its peak.

This trend eventually reached overseas. Previously, the NBA only scouted mature players who had already proven themselves in top-tier foreign leagues. Now, young talents like Darko Miličić were beginning to enter the NBA's field of vision. Antonio Marcellas, a Lakers overseas scout, arrived in Europe with the specific goal of unearthing more young international prodigies. When he saw Lin Qi completely dismantle Luka Bogdanović, he knew his mission was accomplished. He had found his target.

The day after the game between Red Star and FMP, Antonio Marcellas caught a flight back to Los Angeles. Things were not calm for the newly crowned Los Angeles Lakers dynasty. Shaquille O'Neal was worried about his contract; although he had just ushered in a brand-new era for the franchise, his toe injury and the rapidly rising "Black Mamba" cast a shadow over Shaq's future. Kobe was eyeing the throne; look at what he did while Shaq was sidelined—on November 8, 2002, against the Boston Celtics, Kobe scored 41 points, but it took him 47 shots, 30 of which missed, setting an infamous record. The truth behind it all was that Kobe was desperate to replace Shaq. He had waited for that day for too long and just wanted to go on a scoring rampage, regardless of the cost. Beyond that, the Lakers' role players were aging, unable to defend the fast break or hit three-pointers. All of this signaled one thing: the internal structure of the Lakers was crumbling, and a breakup was inevitable.

Even though the Lakers remained a championship contender on the surface, the Buss family never stopped preparing for a rebuild. Whether it was the "Shark" or the "Snake" who remained on the throne in Los Angeles, they would need help. The best way to acquire that help was through the draft. After all, you couldn't expect a miracle like the Dallas Mavericks trading Luka Dončić to the Lakers to happen every twenty years. As a key part of the rebuilding plan, Antonio Marcellas had to bring back the intelligence he gathered in Europe without delay. Look at Tony Parker, look at Manu Ginóbili—Europe was full of treasures that could be found with low draft picks. The Lakers could not afford to miss a single opportunity.

Marcellas didn't even have time to go home and sleep after his long journey; he went straight to Mitch Kupchak’s office. When he entered, Kupchak was on the phone.

"That's impossible. You know I can't trade Shaquille O'Neal. Even a goddess has her off days, and Shaq is just tired. It’s affecting his form slightly, but he is still the most dominant center in the league. You know it’s impossible!"

After finishing the call, Marcellas pulled out a manila envelope containing the files. Instead of handing it to Kupchak, he asked a question. "Mitch, I know you're busy, so let's keep this short. Have you heard of Luka Bogdanović?"

"Of course. The European Golden Boy, the new darling of the Nike Hoop Summit," Kupchak said, twirling his Montblanc pen. "I heard his jump shot is beautiful enough to make Dirk cry. He's a Peja Stojaković who can pass and handle the ball, a guaranteed All-Star... I've heard plenty about him."

Kupchak assumed Marcellas had brought him a file on Bogdanović, but Marcellas changed the subject: "That's right, he’s famous, but he got locked down in a youth game."

Marcellas stared at Kupchak, neither speaking nor moving. Kupchak blinked for a few seconds, then spread his hands in confusion. "And? Are you waiting for a reporter from the *Los Angeles Times* to snap a photo?"

"Ask me! Ask me who did it!" Marcellas suddenly slammed the table in excitement, startling the pigeons on the windowsill outside the office.

Kupchak: ...

Wasn't this supposed to be short? This was why he disliked Antonio Marcellas. The idiot was competent at his job, but his way of speaking was moronic. If he weren't the second-best overseas scout in the league, right behind Ivanka Dukan of the Bulls, and if international players weren't starting to make their mark on the NBA, Kupchak would have kicked him out long ago. With no choice, Kupchak played along with the boring game.

"Fine. So, who defended our little Peja?"

"Lin Qi, a Chinese player for the FMP youth team. His talent is unparalleled. Everyone with his level of athleticism in this world is already playing in the NBA. He has the potential to become Scottie Pippen—a Scottie Pippen with the athleticism of Shawn Kemp!"

Marcellas stared at Kupchak again, falling silent.

"And?"

"Ask me! Ask me how old this kid is!"

Kupchak covered his forehead. "Fine, fine. How old is the kid?"

"Not even 17 yet! Imagine, your wife's yoga instructor could be his mother, and the kid is already putting European prodigies in their place! Luka Bogdanović is already playing in the adult league and performing well, yet our Chinese genius locked him down! Held him to 8 points all game, and completely shut him out in the second half!"

"So, is this his file in your hand?"

"That's right."

Finally, after the tedious game of Q&A, Mitch Kupchak took the manila envelope from Marcellas. A glance at the basic profile was enough to convince Kupchak that the claim of him being "the next Scottie Pippen" wasn't just empty air. In terms of static physical traits, Lin Qi had the potential. He reached Pippen's level in almost every measurable metric on the basketball court. And at under 17, he might still be growing. Furthermore, Marcellas used the word "incredible" multiple times in the report to describe his athleticism and defensive instincts. Although his offensive skills were raw, Marcellas used "incredible" to describe his timing on cuts.

The report gave Kupchak a rough assessment of Lin Qi. First, he was a natural athlete with a frame built for basketball. Thanks to the European youth system, he possessed high basketball IQ, even if his technical skills were lagging. Therefore, he wasn't just a brute; even without the ball, his intelligent cutting could threaten the rim and contribute to the offense. On the defensive end, he was already punishing everyone at will.

Of course, his unparalleled rebounding ability was a precious asset; despite being under 206 cm, he dominated a crowd of 210 cm "polar bears." He was the kind of tough frontcourt player every team craved. (Considering this era didn't prioritize perimeter shooting, this was indeed the case.)

Mitch Kupchak was interested, but he had one final question.

"This guy... can he beat Darko Miličić? They're both in Serbia, right?"

"Unfortunately, they haven't faced each other yet," Marcellas said, shrugging. He stared at Kupchak with a sly grin, as if saying, "Ask me if they'll be playing soon."

"Fine, damn it! Do they have a game coming up!?"

"Yes, next month. Do you need me to go back?"

"Leave tomorrow."

"So soon? The game isn't until next month."

"I don't just want you to watch the game. I want you to track his training, find out about his family background, his personality—I need to know everything about him. If he’s as good as you say, we absolutely cannot miss out on him in the summer of 2004."

Of course, Kupchak didn't mention the most important reason for rushing him out: *I don't want to see your idiot face in Los Angeles!*

"Alright, Mitch. You know I'd sacrifice anything for Lakers Nation."

"Good. Go to the finance department and get your funding. I'll give them a call."

After Marcellas left, Mitch Kupchak put Lin Qi's file into his drawer. Would he pull it out again? That depended on whether Lin Qi could handle Darko Miličić. Regarding Lin Qi, that was the only thing Kupchak cared about right now.

***

Lin Qi and Teo had joined forces to take down Luka Bogdanović, making them household names in Serbian basketball. Now, everyone had one question: when would they appear in a first-team game? Lin and Teo both knew they were only one target away from the senior squad.

As their fame grew, the names of Lin Qi and Teodosić reached the ears of Darko Miličić. A young king who had become famous in Serbia at 14 and was now almost a lock for the top five in this year's NBA draft, he was different from everyone else. Whether it was Aleksandar Gajić, Blagota Sekulić, or Luka Bogdanović, they all just played basketball quietly. They were opponents, but there was never any personal enmity.

But Darko, a talent who considered himself a world-class superstar, clearly had a completely different mindset. When a reporter asked him what he thought of Lin and Teo, Darko Miličić tossed his platinum-dyed hair back, the diamond stud in his ear catching the light, a rebellious smile on his face.

"I’m just curious, does their coach have to sit in the locker room with his two best players and watch programs on Nickelodeon?"

It was a taunt without profanity. In a few months, Darko Miličić would be heading to the NBA for a multi-million dollar contract; he knew he could do it. Therefore, he held nothing but disdain for everything in Serbia—whether it was the basketball or the people, he looked down on it all.