"Our tactics will be to start with a corner cut, then have Booker pull his defender toward the top of the arc. This will open up space for Zach to get a clean look at a three-pointer. Everyone clear on that?" In the away locker room of the Charlotte Hornets, Coach Malone's voice was firm as he drew up plays on the tactical board. His players huddled around, nodding and murmuring their understanding.
Since CJ's injury, the team had been in a constant cycle of adjusting tactics. A new play here and there didn't surprise the players anymore. But Rudy Gay, one of the veterans, seemed to pick up on something else as he watched Malone's strategy unfold. He cast a knowing look at his coach, sensing a bigger plan behind these new tactics.
Meanwhile, outside the locker room, Jake was waiting, glancing down at his phone and occasionally scanning the hall. Suddenly, a familiar figure caught his eye—a man in a perfectly tailored suit, exuding confidence. It was none other than Michael Jordan, the Hornets' owner and the legendary "GOAT" of basketball. Jordan noticed Jake's gaze, smiled, and approached.
"Jake, right?" he asked, extending his hand with a friendly smile.
Jake shook hands eagerly, trying to mask his excitement. "Yes, Mike. You've been my idol for as long as I can remember."
"Thank you, man. Let's stay in touch. Here's my number," Jordan said, sharing his contact info before heading off. Jake felt a surge of adrenaline. Meeting his idol only amplified his motivation to make big moves for his team.
As he reentered the locker room, Jake glanced at the Hornets' starting lineup on the whiteboard—Kemba Walker, Nicolas Batum, Al Jefferson, Marvin Williams, PJ Hairston. His attention was briefly caught by a familiar figure on the Hornets' bench: Jeremy Lin, sporting a rather wild hairstyle that made him stand out. Jake couldn't help but smile, as did Coach Malone.
"Is that your fellow countryman?" Malone asked, half-jokingly.
"Not at all!" Jake chuckled, waving his hands in mock protest.
The game began, and the Kings executed Malone's tactic from the start. Jokic and Gay set a high double screen, freeing up space for LaVine, who raced around the arc to position himself. But he missed the shot, the ball bouncing off the rim as Al Jefferson grabbed the rebound and passed it to Walker, who immediately sprinted down the court.
"Go, go, go!" Walker shouted, charging forward with the quickness that defined his game. But LaVine, knowing he'd missed the shot, had already started hustling back on defense. He matched Walker's speed, keeping stride with him all the way to the other end of the court. Just as Walker prepared for an easy layup, he slowed down, trying to bait LaVine into a collision. A classic fast-break tactic to draw a foul.
Walker was surprised, however, when LaVine saw through his trick. At the last second, LaVine swerved, using his core strength to avoid the collision and sprinting past Walker. Stunned, Walker could only watch as LaVine seamlessly caught up with him, stopping the fast break in its tracks.
"Damn, this kid is a problem!" Walker muttered, retreating outside to reset as his teammates got into position.
On the sideline, Coach Malone watched with a grin of satisfaction. "LaVine's defensive instincts have really come a long way," he said with a nod.
"Yeah," Jake replied, sharing the coach's pride. He wished there were more time to develop this group, to mold them fully. But they both knew they couldn't wait; every game was an opportunity to shape these young players while also evaluating potential trades.
Back on the court, the Hornets struggled to score on that possession, allowing Jokic to snag the rebound and pass it to Gay, who took his time crossing half-court, signaling to his teammates that he was slowing the tempo for a set play. Malone's strategy had the Kings playing with patience, as they now focused on opening up space for Gay to work one-on-one with Marvin Williams.
Gay used his signature move: the crossover dribble through his legs, forcing Williams to give him space. It was a move reminiscent of Harden at his peak, and Gay knew just how to use it. As Williams adjusted his defense, Gay spotted LaVine darting into the paint, unguarded and ready. Gay tossed the ball high, just slightly too high, but LaVine leaped with ease, catching it and slamming it down with an astonishing dunk, his elbow nearly level with the rim.
The crowd went wild, and the commentators were in awe. "Now that's what you call athleticism! LaVine's dunk will be all over the top ten highlights for sure."
As LaVine jogged back to defend, he looked at his slightly reddened forearm, barely registering the sting. In that moment, something clicked in his mind. He felt unstoppable, as if he'd unlocked a new level of focus.
"Hey, Rudy!" he called out to Gay. "Let me handle the next play!"
Gay recognized the look in LaVine's eyes immediately. He'd entered what players called the "zone," a heightened state where every action felt effortless, every movement sharper. Gay grinned. "All right, it's your show now! I'll back you up."
This intense focus—the zone—was nothing new to elite players. It was that flow state where mind and body were in perfect sync, where the game seemed to slow down, making every shot and move feel inevitable. Watching LaVine, Gay and Malone both knew he'd found that sweet spot.
Meanwhile, on the bench, Michael Jordan watched with interest, nodding in quiet admiration. He understood the zone better than anyone; his success in the NBA was built on his ability to summon this mental state whenever he needed it. Watching LaVine's drive and seeing his growth gave Jordan a glimpse of the Kings' potential. Jake, who noticed Jordan watching, felt a surge of excitement, his mind racing with new plans.
As the game continued, LaVine moved effortlessly, sinking shots, intercepting passes, and blocking attempts with razor-sharp precision. The Kings may have started the season adjusting to a temporary setback, but with Jake's vision, Malone's tactics, and LaVine's undeniable skill, they had every reason to be confident in their future.