Leaving Contra Costa High School in the morning, Beelman drove to the small southwestern Bay Area city of Palo Alto, where he was scheduled for a job interview to be the head coach of the basketball team at Palo Alto High School today.
He had slicked his hair back and changed into a decent suit, constantly checking himself in the rearview mirror on the way, dabbing a bit of face cream on to cover the hangover from last night's heavy drinking.
The position of head coach at Palo Alto High School represented an opportunity for him, a chance to turn his life around.
Before the age of 35, Beelman's life had been smooth sailing. After graduating from the University of Notre Dame, he stayed with the school's basketball team as an assistant coach while also pursuing a graduate degree in sociology.
The year he graduated with his master's degree, he married his long-time girlfriend and soon had a lovely daughter.
He was passionate about basketball and continually improved himself in his position as an assistant coach, his goal being to become the head coach of a Division I NCAA team before turning 35.
However, in 1977, he was embroiled in a gambling scandal that was quickly suppressed by the NCAA before it could ferment, but Beelman lost his job as a result.
Although subsequent investigations proved his innocence, his job had already been filled, and he could not return to it.
Soon after, he and his wife faced a marital crisis and divorced in 1979, with their daughter going to New Jersey with her mother.
During this time, he developed alcoholism, attending support group meetings every week for treatment with little effect.
This spring, he suddenly received an invitation from a former player and junior, Frank Alock, to come to San Francisco to start a long-term basketball training camp that needed professional coaches.
With the economy declining and no other prospects, Beelman headed to California, where during that era many people from the central parts of the country went to chase the California dream—the Bay Area's Isabell was one of them, later co-founding "Guns N' Roses" with Ross.
With Beelman's capabilities, the summer camp was undeniably beneath him, and his quick temper led to foul language on the court which inevitably resulted in complaints from clients.
Therefore, taking on a full-time position as a team coach was his best option.
Palo Alto High School was a well-known private school in the Bay Area with a beautiful environment and excellent teaching and student quality.
Working there would undoubtedly be a very good choice.
When he arrived at the high school, the fresh Mediterranean style of white and green in the campus had already cleared Beelman's foggy mind significantly.
And the interview went quite smoothly—Beelman's past experience and professional knowledge were more than enough for the position of coach at an ordinary high school basketball team.
Since it was Cap Raven who had recommended him, the school already intended to hire him, but they needed to interview other candidates as a formality.
After the interview, Beelman expressed the desire to take some time to observe the basketball team's training.
The head of the physical education department said that the team was just having their summer training today and he could visit.
So Beelman went to the school's gym and stood courtside to closely observe the training process of the Palo Alto Vikings.
The Vikings weren't considered a strong team in the California region, and naturally, the players' skills were mediocre.
After watching for more than twenty minutes, only a White guard named Dipenbroke left an impression on Beelman.
The others were just average players with little hope of obtaining college basketball scholarships.
As Beelman watched these players, two people kept coming to mind:
One was Bill Lambier, a player from his time at the University of Notre Dame.
This guy was a talent-wasting playboy who spent his college years idly and went to Europe after graduation to catch a breeze; he recently returned to America and joined the NBA.
He found a job as a center on the Knight team, a lousy squad, and became a defensive blue-collar worker, though with his talent, if he had worked hard, he could have become an All-Star.
After Beelman left the University of Notre Dame in 1977 for some reasons, no one was there to roar in his ear and keep a tight rein on him.
The other was Gan Guoyang, who had a kind of baffling potential about him, like a black hole, seemingly bottomless, constantly drawing you in.
In the 10 days of summer camp, Beelman felt like he was improving almost every day, and he was like an incredible blank canvas that you could paint on at will.
But in fact, he was already rich in colors, maybe the canvas was just too big.
I wonder what kind of performance he will deliver in today's concluding 5v5 match.
With a mind full of thoughts, Beelman ended his interview journey. The school said it would consider carefully after a study, and the athletic director privately said that if there was no problem, he could start his position next week when the school started.
He had a light lunch in Palo Alto at noon and returned to Walnut Creek in the afternoon. The COPA Sports Center was empty, with only the cleaning staff mopping the floor.
When he went to the office and saw Alok, he asked Beelman how the interview went, and Beelman said it was good, most likely he would get the job.
Alok was happy for his former assistant, although he had a foul mouth and a bad temper, he was truly a good coach, and was really wasted at summer camp.
Moreover, it was the first year of summer camp, and Alok had to consider his own reputation a bit, no more complaints could occur.
Beelman then asked about the last day's 5v5 scrimmage, Alok raised an eyebrow and said, "You're interested in Ah Gan's performance, right?"
"Of course, stop beating around the bush, how many points did he score?"
"Unfortunately, Ah Gan didn't score a single point in the morning's scrimmage," Alok replied.
"Not a single point? He scored 0? You're joking, how could that be. Even if throwing randomly, this pig should have scored once."
Alok smiled and said, "Because he didn't throw a single one, he intentionally didn't take a shot, the gap between him and the others was too big."
"Intentionally not taking a shot? This posturing bastard, then... then did his team win the game?"
"Of course, they won. He just didn't score any points but grabbed 44 rebounds and blocked the opposing team 12 times. In fact, he was holding back; otherwise, the game couldn't have continued, the opponents couldn't attack. I've said before, he doesn't belong here, everyone else comes to play, to experience, but this guy is serious."
"...his mother, who was the last person who could do that? Tell me, who was it?"
"The last one? Bill Russell, it's said that when he participated in practice with the Celtics, if he really defended, the intramural scrimmages couldn't continue. But I think this kid doesn't have Russell's kind of jumping ability and explosiveness, but he is even craftier than Russell and adept at manipulating his teammates and opponents' minds. He's only sixteen, my God, I even feel that I, as a referee on the sidelines, was dominated by him."
Alok's words sounded incredible, casting another layer of mysterious and enticing veil over Gan Guoyang.
Beelman bit on his finger, eager to know what kind of player this guy would eventually turn into.