022: It Turns Out I Was the One Who Didn't Understand

Julio Lamas gazed out at the training court. On the second morning of the new season's training camp, the air was still thick with mist, yet Lynch had already completed three seamless rotations of defensive switching.

The performance of this number 10 was better than Julio Lamas had anticipated.

You see, a minor coming directly into a professional league usually faces a multitude of troubles. They often find themselves seemingly unable to play basketball at all.

Lamas knew a story about Kwame Brown. In one practice session, Wizards head coach Doug Collins had the team run man-to-man defense, but Kwame Brown stood in the middle of the court like a lost lamb.

When an infuriated Collins asked what was wrong, Brown’s response left everyone stunned: "What am I supposed to do? I’ve never played man-to-man defense before."

Doug Collins had never heard anything so absurd in his life; man-to-man was the most fundamental defensive strategy in basketball, a common sense requirement for any beginner.

Kwame Brown quickly explained, "In high school, they just told me to stand under the basket and keep my hands up. If I play man-to-man, how am I supposed to grab rebounds and protect the rim?"

Don't laugh; this is the reality for most young players stepping into the professional ranks. Many talented youngsters discover upon entering the professional arena that they haven't even established the most basic tactical discipline, and they have to learn to play basketball all over again, like toddlers learning to walk.

But Lynch had no such problems. His understanding of tactics was already at a professional level; he could execute every assignment the coach set for him. The youth training foundation at FMP had endowed Lynch with a high basketball IQ, teaching him how to play the game properly.

During breaks, Lamas would find himself involuntarily drawn to that figure. When Lynch tilted his head back to drink water, he had the slender, lean silhouette typical of a teenager, but when he tightened his laces and returned to the court, his instantaneous decision-making was so seasoned it was bewildering.

However, this still wasn't enough to prove that Lynch could establish himself in the ACB.

Finally, on the third day of the camp, Julio Lamas organized a five-on-five scrimmage. This was the first test he had prepared for Lynch. It wasn't an easy test, as everyone on the team was eager to prove themselves.

Lamas was the new head coach, and Real Madrid had many new players, which meant the rotation for the upcoming season would be entirely overhauled. Therefore, every scrimmage from now on was crucial—it determined everyone’s playing time for the next season.

Antonis Fotsis, who commanded the highest transfer fee for Real Madrid this year, had been eyeing Lynch ever since he heard about the scrimmage. Standing at 208 centimeters, he excelled at the power forward position, but Lynch was a power forward too. And since the small forward spot belonged to team captain Alberto Herreros—a position that was practically untouchable—Fotsis figured he had to compete with Lynch for the starting power forward role.

Yet, when Julio Lamas announced the teams, he placed Fotsis and Lynch on the same side: "Anton, you’re playing center."

"Coach, I don't want to play center; that’s not my best position." Fotsis hated the endless physical grinding and voiced his protest.

"It's fine, I can play the five," Lynch raised his hand.

It was just a scrimmage, so Lamas didn't pay it much mind. "Fine, whatever. Look, Anton, you aren't even as brave as a kid."

That was Julio Lamas—his cold, rigid demeanor wasn't aimed at anyone in particular; he was indifferent to everyone.

The Greek grumbled as he walked onto the court. And just like that, Teo, Louis Bullock, Lynch, and Fotsis—four key new signings—were placed on the same team.

As the game was about to start, Louis Bullock patted Lynch on the shoulder, much like Kobe Bryant had helped Yao Ming relax during the 2003 All-Star Game. "I know you're a bit nervous, but don't be. Professional basketball isn't as hard as you think. You've got me to lead you."

"I'm not nervous at all, Louis."

"See, people always talk nonsense when they're nervous."

Lynch: "..."

The game soon began, and Louis Bullock brought the ball past half-court. He wanted to find Lynch cutting to the basket; his instincts as a point guard told him that a beastly frame should be tearing through the defense into the paint right about now.

He turned his head, only to find Lynch standing outside the three-point line with his hand raised.

Lynch was desperate to see the level of the jump shot he had spent the entire offseason training. Although he was accurate in practice, shooting in practice and shooting in a game were two very different things.

When Shaquille O'Neal had challenged Scottie Pippen during the 1996 Dream Team training camp, he had pulled off step-back jumpers and crossovers with ease. But in official games, everyone knew Shaq wasn't a shooter. Lynch wanted to see if he could actually make those shots in live action.

Mario Stojić, the Real Madrid forward tasked with guarding Lynch, didn't play tight defense. He gave him plenty of space, simply hovering a hand in front of Lynch's face. The German, of course, knew how Lynch played; the best way to handle a rim-attacking forward like that was to sag off.

This kind of defense was the perfect incubator for Lynch to prove his shooting ability.

"Man, what the f*ck?" Louis Bullock didn't understand what Lynch was thinking. Was the guy scared? Afraid to attack the rim?

"Pass it to me, I can shoot, I'm open," Lynch called for the ball.

Julio Lamas roared from the sideline: "Hey, hey, hey! This isn't a picnic in the park! What are you chatting about?! Keep the ball moving!"

Real Madrid's French guard, Mustapha Sonko, took advantage of the moment Bullock and Lynch were talking to lunge forward and steal the ball. Bullock, lacking focus, turned it over immediately, and the opponent took the ball away with ease. The Frenchman charged down the court with blistering speed and finished with an easy layup.

"Man!!!" Louis Bullock threw his hands up at Lynch.

"You turned the ball over, why are you throwing your hands up at me?"

"Why are you standing behind the three-point line? Use your body to crush them! That turnover should be on you!"

"I can shoot."

On the sideline, Julio Lamas spoke up: "Lynch, you’d better make those. If you don't have the confidence to make the shot and insist on messing around, I’ll glue you to the bench. The 2004 NBA Draft is none of my business—I’m not joking."

Lamas could understand Lynch's psyche. Every player craves doing more on the court, hoping to shoulder the load themselves. Lynch probably felt he could exert more energy on the offensive end, play a more significant role, and bring more tactical options.

It was understandable for a young man to be arrogant, but not everyone had the ability to carry the load. Lamas had heard from the trainers that Lynch had worked hard on his shooting during the offseason. But experience told him it was unlikely Lynch's shooting had undergone a qualitative change. In the professional arena, any inefficient offensive method was unacceptable.

He had to nip Lynch's foolish ideas in the bud.

On the second possession, Lynch still didn't cut. He needed to demonstrate his ability in the scrimmage so the coach would draw up tactics for him. He could shoot, and he needed to communicate that.

Seeing Lynch standing unmoved behind the three-point line, Louis Bullock shook his head in disappointment, feeling he might have hitched his wagon to the wrong star. "Do whatever you want, pal. Once you brick five or six, you'll know you should have listened to me! If you can make two threes, I guarantee I’ll have the best ass in Madrid at your room tonight!"

Julio Lamas felt the same way. Let Lynch shoot for now. As the saying goes, young people don't understand professional basketball, but they’ll learn once they’ve been beaten black and blue. It was better to get beaten up now than in an official game. Sometimes, it’s not a bad thing for a youngster to realize their own limitations.

Lynch had to realize that, as a young man, wanting to enter the next stage was never easy.

Bullock passed the ball to Lynch out of spite. The gap left by Mario’s sagging defense was wide enough for two buses to drive through side-by-side. Lynch rose decisively for the shot, the friction between his soles and the floor creating a sharp, piercing sound.

John Paxson had been a catch-and-shoot specialist, so this rhythm was the most comfortable for Lynch, who had inherited his shooting talent. The German, Mario Stojić, rushed forward, but because he had sagged so far off, his contest was a step too slow.

Louis Bullock shook his head and grumbled, Antonis Fotsis felt delighted by his rival's stupidity, and Julio Lamas’s knuckles turned white, ready to explode.

"Swish!"

The instant the net lifted, the crisp sound was like God plucking a harp, dissolving the anger in Julio Lamas’s heart.

"I told you I could shoot," Lynch shrugged at Bullock.

On the next offensive possession, the German continued to sag, and Lynch asked for the ball again, hitting his second shot with almost no interference.

A possession later, from mid-range, Lynch faked a low center of gravity after receiving the ball. Mario Stojić, thinking Lynch was going to drive, took two steps back. The moment he retreated, Lynch pulled up and hit his third shot.

Real Madrid assistant coach Tros Llorente couldn't help but smile: "He’s smart, he’s not just messing around! Do you see? It’s not just that he can shoot; he knows how to use the threat of his drive to create space for his shot. What a beautiful fake-drive-real-shoot! He’s a genius, Julio, a true genius! We can't just treat him as a rim-running cutter!"

Three consecutive baskets to start the game gave Lynch a hot hand, followed by a fourth, then a fifth... He missed twice in between, but his shooting remained remarkably steady.

When Lynch hit his fifth shot, Julio Lamas couldn't hold back anymore: "Mario, are you waiting for God to save you? You’re getting torched, how can you keep letting him shoot so easily!? Stick to him, get up on him and play some defense!"

The German cursed under his breath and began playing tight defense on Lynch. Just then, Lynch suddenly transformed into lightning, tearing through the defense to cut into the paint.

Mario Stojić was playing too tight and lacked the physical advantage, so he was completely unable to stop him. When he turned around, he could only stare blankly at Lynch’s back.

This was the consequence of playing tight defense on Lynch, and this was the consequence of Lynch possessing a shooting threat.

Louis Bullock tossed the ball into the air. As Lynch caught it in mid-air, Real Madrid center Eduardo Sonseca was standing under the basket, helplessly raising his arms. He wondered why he was in this godforsaken position, already foreseeing his fate.

"Thud!"

The rim seemed to explode. Sonseca, having been posterized, collapsed to the floor, clutching his nose as crimson liquid dripped through the center’s fingers. The force of that slam had broken his nose.

"Damn it..." Julio Lamas’s widened pupils reflected the string of six consecutive shots that had swished through the net, and the unstoppable drives that followed once the shooting threat was established.

That kid really had developed the shot!

If Lynch possessed both a jump shot and a ferocious rim attack... how were other teams in the ACB supposed to defend him? If you sagged too far, you were dead; if you played him too tight, you were also dead!

This kid...

Lynch looked apologetically at Sonseca, then turned to the stunned Lamas: "Don, are you sure you want me to keep attacking the rim in this scrimmage?"

Julio Lamas stared at the innocent-looking teenager and realized one thing. He had been saying all along that Lynch didn't understand professional basketball.

No.

It was that he himself didn't understand what a top-three NBA-caliber talent was.

Whether in Argentina or Spain, he had never seen a player like this before. He had looked at Lynch through the lens of an ordinary player, which was a mistake in itself.

Since he couldn't look at Lynch in an ordinary way...

As a professional coach, he had a thought as impulsive as a young man's.

Next season, he would make 17-year-old Lynch the tactical core of Real Madrid. All these battle-hardened professional players would have to revolve around him and serve him.