After their loss to the Mavericks, the Kings' morale took a severe hit. They followed that defeat with another loss to the Grizzlies, led by the formidable "black and white bears" duo, Marc Gasol and Zach Randolph. It was clear to everyone that the Kings, once hyped as a team on the rise earlier in the season, had been brought crashing back down to earth. With a roster full of young players, their ability to handle pressure was lacking, and there was an ominous sense that the team could unravel at any moment.
Jake sat in his office, massaging his temples as he watched the team's struggles unfold. He understood the challenges but felt powerless to intervene. His role was to manage operations, while integrating and motivating the team fell under Coach Malone's responsibilities. Though he had a solid relationship with the coach, overstepping his bounds could only make things worse. To make matters worse, in just two days, the Kings would be facing the defending champion Spurs—a team that Jake knew all too well. It would be his first time facing them since leaving the organization, and he felt a burning desire to prove himself. It was like trying to impress the mentors who raised him, yet with the Kings' current slump, he feared there was little to showcase.
As he mulled over these thoughts, LaVine suddenly popped into his office. "Hey, Jake, we're about to start an intra-team scrimmage. Coach asked if you'd like to come watch."
Jake looked at him, confused. "Why would I want to watch an intra-team scrimmage? That's not my job."
"The team doctor just cleared Oden to participate in limited game action. The coach is planning to let him play in this scrimmage. Didn't you bring him back? He thought you'd want to see it."
At the mention of Oden, Jake immediately stood up. "Oden's playing? Of course, I'll watch. I brought him back from New York for a reason, and I want to see him shine."
Walking side by side with LaVine, Jake made his way to the court. The players were already warming up, with Oden standing near the free-throw line, methodically working on his mid-range jumper. Jake couldn't help but admire the big man's professionalism. Oden, despite his setbacks, wasn't a mindless brute like some other big guys. His talent was undeniable, but years of injuries had derailed what could've been a legendary career.
As soon as Oden saw Jake approaching, he put down the ball and hurried over. "Jake, I just want to thank you again for this opportunity. I won't let you down."
Looking into Oden's earnest eyes, Jake felt a twinge of emotion. For him, bringing Oden to Sacramento was a simple decision, but for Oden, it represented perhaps the last chance of his basketball career. "Just play your game. Like I said before, as long as you don't let me down, I won't let you down," Jake replied. He reached out to pat Oden on the shoulder but, realizing the height difference might make it awkward, he opted to pat his arm instead.
As he did, Jake discreetly activated the "health recovery card" he had saved for this moment. The system confirmed his choice, and a subtle white light that only Jake could see transferred from him into Oden.
"Alright, no more chit-chat. Let's get the game going!" Oden said, before heading back to the court. However, as he walked, he subtly shifted his weight from side to side, testing his legs. CJ, noticing this, called out in concern. "Everything alright? Are you still feeling off?"
"No, just... feels a bit strange," Oden responded, continuing to test his legs. For years, he'd been plagued by the unevenness caused by botched surgeries, but now, something felt different. His legs seemed perfectly balanced for the first time in years. Not wanting to draw attention, Oden kept his thoughts to himself and gestured for the game to proceed.
The scrimmage wasn't just about shaking off the team's low spirits—it was also about getting Oden reintegrated with his teammates. As the players started moving, Jake, unnoticed by most, quietly found a seat on the bench. His personal motto came to mind: Never stand if you can sit, and never sit if you can lie down. Life was tough enough; no need to make it harder by being on your feet unnecessarily.
On the court, CJ brought the ball up and, spotting Oden already positioned in the paint, lobbed it to him. Oden, standing like a fortress, immediately began backing down Mozgov, who was assigned to guard him. Despite it being a practice match, the players were curious to see how the once-great Oden would perform. Mozgov had no help—his teammates wanted to see Oden's skills firsthand.
"Bang!" The sound of muscle against muscle echoed as Oden backed Mozgov down, forcing him to stumble a step back. With the pressure suddenly gone, Oden spun and found himself facing an open basket.
"Help! We need help on defense!" Mozgov yelled as soon as he was pushed back. Casspi, who had been on the weak side, rushed in to help, but it was too late. Oden, soaring high above the rim, dunked with such force that Casspi, attempting to contest, was knocked aside like a ship in a storm. The rim groaned under the impact of the slam.
"Bang!" The dunk rattled the basket, and Oden's presence seemed to fill the entire gym.
Mozgov, who had been knocked to the ground, was still trying to process what had just happened. Beside him lay his teammate Casspi, equally stunned. After Oden's thunderous dunk, the atmosphere in the gym felt strange. No one was moving—no one was inbounding the ball or returning on defense. Everyone was just staring at Oden as if he were a different kind of beast. The court had fallen into an awkward, eerie silence.
"Ah! Hot, hot, hot!" A high-pitched scream suddenly shattered the quiet. Jake, who had been sitting on the sidelines, lighting up a cigarette to enjoy Oden's performance, had been just as shocked as everyone else. Oden's explosive start had caught him off guard. Jake, of course, knew that Oden's impressive play was thanks to the health recovery card he had used. But he hadn't expected it to be this extreme. He thought the card would just heal Oden, not turn him into a wrecking ball on the court.
In his distraction, Jake forgot about the cigarette in his hand, which had slipped from his fingers and fallen onto his pants, burning a small hole. The scream had come from the burn, and now Jake was frantically shaking off the cigarette butt, stomping it out on the ground.
"Why are you all standing around? Keep playing!" Jake barked, glaring at Oden while inspecting the hole in his pants. His shout snapped everyone back to reality. But now, the way they looked at Oden was different—there was awe in their eyes.
"Greg, I'll get you the ball a few more times. Just keep it up," CJ whispered to Oden as they passed each other on the court. CJ had become Jake's loyal follower and knew that Oden was Jake's pick, so it was in his best interest to support him.
Oden, now emboldened, began dominating the paint. Hook shots, rebounds, fadeaways—he used everything in his arsenal. By the end of the first half, Mozgov had been completely demoralized.
"Alright, that's enough for today. Let's wrap it up early," Coach Mike Malone called out. The plan had been to play two full games, but Oden's performance was so overwhelming that Malone feared Mozgov's confidence might be permanently damaged if they continued.
Oden, who had been calm at the start, was now visibly excited. Though it was just a scrimmage, it felt to him like he had returned to his glory days in the NCAA. His lost confidence and rhythm had returned. There was even a growing belief in the league that the Kings possessed some sort of magic—any player who joined them seemed to rediscover their form.
Just as Oden was about to go and thank Jake, he saw him rushing up to the office on the second floor.
"Jake! Where are you going?" Oden called out.
"I'm going to change my pants!" Jake yelled back. "And get your contract sorted!"
Later that night, the news broke throughout the league: after Oden's 10-day contract expired, the Kings had signed him to a three-year, $12 million deal using their precious mid-level exception. The deal had been made possible by a trade involving Marcus Thornton, and now it was being used to lock down Oden.
The entire league was buzzing. What had started as a non-guaranteed contract had turned into a multi-year deal. Jake had struck gold. Rumors swirled around the league, but one thing was certain: all eyes were back on Sacramento.
"Ha!" Jake yawned in his office. He had just sent off the team doctor, who still looked as though he'd seen a ghost. The recovery card had worked even better than Jake had imagined. Not only had it healed Oden's injuries, but it had also fixed the uneven legs that had plagued him for years. If Jake hadn't stepped in, the team doctor might have taken Oden away for medical research.
Jake looked at the date circled in red on his calendar and smiled to himself. "Pop, I've got a surprise for you."