After signing my contract, the next step was getting settled in Orlando. The team helped me find a luxury apartment downtown, just minutes away from the Amway Center.
The place had everything—floor-to-ceiling windows, a spacious living room, and even a private gym. My agent had already arranged for movers to bring in some essentials, but walking into my own place for the first time felt surreal.
Vic called me as soon as I got the keys. "Yo, I'm pulling up soon, we gotta celebrate."
"Chill, bro, I got training early tomorrow," I laughed.
The next morning, it was time to get to work. I arrived at the Magic's practice facility, where the strength and conditioning staff were waiting. The head trainer sized me up, impressed. "Man, you're built like a freak athlete. We're gonna turn you into a machine."
They ran me through a series of tests—vertical leap, agility drills, core strength assessments. Every coach and trainer I met had the same reaction: shock at my physical abilities.
"This kid's got unlimited potential," I overheard one of them whisper.
With my first week in Orlando behind me, it was time to prepare for the NBA Summer League. The coaching staff had put together a strict regimen—morning workouts, film sessions, and scrimmages against other rookies and young players.
"We need you to be the leader out there, Franklin," my assistant coach told me. "You're one of the top picks, and we expect you to set the tone."
I embraced the challenge. Every day, I hit the weight room early, working on my explosiveness and conditioning. After that, it was straight to the court, where I sharpened my mid-range game, defensive rotations, and pick-and-roll reads.
I'm not gonna lie to you, since I reached my maximum height, I feel more complete as if before a part of me was missing. So my game is even better than before.
"Franklin, you're moving different out there. Stronger, faster. You were already great, but you've leveled up."
Another coach nodded. "Yeah, we expected you to be good, but this? This is something else. What changed?"
I wiped the sweat from my brow and grinned. "Coach, I've just been locked in."
Outside of training, I took some time to explore the city. One weekend, I decided to check out Disney World—something I had always wanted to do. Walking through the park, taking in the sights, and just enjoying the moment gave me a much-needed break before things ramped up again.
As the weeks passed, my routine became second nature—train, eat, rest, repeat. Before I knew it, the Summer League had arrived.
-Summer League
The Magic coaching staff made it clear—I would only be playing one game in the Orlando Summer League. "We know what you can do" Coach told me before the game. "Go out there, dominate, and we'll shut you down after that. No need to risk anything."
That was all I needed.
The atmosphere inside the practice facility was electric. Scouts, coaches, and reporters filled the seats, all eager to see how the top rookies performed. The opposing team, the Philadelphia 76ers' Summer League squad, had some solid young players, but I was locked in from the moment I stepped on the court.
From the tip-off, I made my presence known. On the first possession, I caught the ball at the elbow, faced up my defender, and blew past him for a smooth layup. Easy bucket.
Defensively, I was everywhere—altering shots, forcing bad passes, and grabbing every rebound in sight. Midway through the first quarter, I swatted a weak floater into the stands, earning oohs from the crowd.
"Man, you're a problem," one of the 76ers players muttered as we jogged back down the court.
By halftime, I had already stuffed the stat sheet: 17 points, 7 rebounds, and 3 blocks. The coaching staff was all smiles, but I wasn't done yet.
In the third quarter, I turned it up another notch. I hit a step-back three over my defender, then ran back down the court with a little swagger.
Next play, I grabbed a defensive rebound, pushed the ball coast-to-coast, and finished with a powerful dunk that had the bench on their feet.
The 76ers tried to double-team me, but it didn't matter. I found my teammates for open looks, and we pulled away comfortably.
By the time the fourth quarter rolled around, Coach signaled for me to check out. My final stat line: 33 points, 13 rebounds, 5 blocks, 4 assists.
As I walked back to the bench, the assistant coach patted my back. "That's it for you, Lincoln. You just proved everything we needed to see."
The morning...
After my Summer League debut, my phone was blowing up. Social media, sports analysts, and reporters were all talking about my performance.
On NBA Today, one analyst said, "This kid looked like an absolute force out there. He's got size, skill, and confidence, everything you want in a franchise player."
Another analyst added, "You see young guys put up big numbers in Summer League all the time, but the way Lincoln dominated both ends of the floor was different. He was affecting every play. That's rare for a rookie."
A few days later...
With Summer League officially behind me and the Thunder crowned champions, it was time to shift focus to the upcoming NBA season. My next step? Meeting my new teammates.
I arrived at the Magic's practice facility early, eager to connect with the guys. As soon as I stepped into the locker room, a few veterans were already there, stretching and getting in some early work.
One of them smirked, Nelson Jameer, as he saw me walk in. "Look who it is—the rookie everyone's been hyping up. You ready for the big leagues, Pres?"
I grinned, setting my bag down. "Man, just here to hoop."
Another teammate chimed in, Tobias Harris, nodding. "Respect. But this is a different level. You gonna have to earn everything."
"That's how I like it," I said confidently.
After a solid practice session, the guys let me in on a little tradition.
Rookie dinner. It was my turn to pay my dues.
That night, I reserved a private section at Kres Chophouse, one of the best steakhouses in Orlando. As we sat down, one of the vets clapped me on the back. "You ready for that bill, rook?"on't be wildin' too much."
The team ordered everything—steaks, lobster, bottles of wine, even a few desserts just because they could. The conversation flowed, and it was the first time I really got to bond with the squad.
"So, Franklin, what's your game looking like coming into the season?" one of the starters asked.
"I can do everything. Defense, scoring, playmaking, there's not a thing I can't do."
A few guys nodded in approval. "That's the right mindset. But just know, you're gonna get tested. Every rookie does."
I smirked. "As long as I can dish it back, we good."
By the end of the night, I had dropped a small fortune on dinner. It wasn't just about paying my rookie dues—it was about becoming part of the team, but hey don't think it made me happy.
As we walked out, one of the vets threw an arm around my shoulder. "You alright, Lincoln. Now, let's see what you got when the real season starts."
I just nodded. "Bet."