The Golden Age of Basketball

After training ended that day, Beelman held a meeting for the team members.

He explained the situation to everyone, saying that they had to play a warm-up match against a designated opponent and win in order to officially join the CIF San Francisco League.

"This isn't fair."

"CIF bunch of liars, we played so well."

"Why do we still have to play another game?"

"Who are our opponents?"

Everyone suddenly burst into a commotion, some complaining, others asking questions.

When the noise died down a bit, Beelman said, "Director Liu told me that the designated opponent is Fremont High School from Oakland."

As soon as the words were spoken, the team fell silent, no one spoke, and a few faces showed nervous expressions.

The training hall suddenly fell into an awful silence, making the sunlight that slanted into the YMCA gym at five something seemed a bit icy.

Gan Guoyang broke the silence, saying, "Although this is very unfair, there's nothing we can do. We just have to win the match."

Big Bear Wu Zhixiong said, "But why did they pick Fremont? An Oakland school, this is deliberate, do we have to play there?"

Beelman nodded his head, indicating that it was an away game, and they would have to go to Tiger Stadium in Fremont.

"I heard that someone dies at Fremont High School every year."

"It's every semester, and often right on the basketball court."

"Last year there was one, got into an argument during a game, got shot dead."

The team started discussing animatedly again, with Gan Guoyang whispering with Chen Xing, getting information about Fremont High School from him.

Beelman interrupted everyone's discussion, saying, "I know this game won't be easy to play, and I know there's a certain degree of danger. I've heard that the White high schools in Oakland don't dare to beat Fremont, especially at Tiger Stadium. If they win, they might not be able to make it out.

So, if any of you are afraid of playing this match, you can ask for a leave or quit the team, and I won't blame you."

The gym fell silent once more, nobody spoke, and no one stepped forward to indicate they wanted to quit.

Beelman thought they might be too embarrassed to say anything in front of the others, so he said, "Alright then, those who decide to stay in the team and play the game can leave first. Anyone with other thoughts can stay and talk to me alone. Or, you can look for me privately at another time."

As soon as he finished speaking, everyone seemed relieved and all rushed to the changing room to change clothes and get their bags ready to leave the gym.

Only Gan Guoyang and Xu Xun stayed behind as usual for additional training.

Gan Guoyang said, "I'm staying for extra training, not because I'm quitting."

Xu Xun: "Same here."

And the rest? No one wanted to quit?

Beelman asked loudly at the door, "No one wants to quit? Are you sure no one's quitting?"

Previously, two of eleven people had quit after the first training session, and since then the team had always been nine people.

This time, Beelman was prepared for the possibility of losing two more players; seven people would still enable them to have a rotation.

To his surprise, no one wanted to quit, and everyone left the gym laughing and joking, heading home or out to play.

Beelman waited at the gym's entrance for a while longer to see if anyone would turn back, considering they might be afraid of being seen by their classmates since it was crowded.

At that moment, Gan Guohui ran back, and Beelman thought he wanted to quit, but instead, he dashed into the changing room.

"What did you come back for?"

"Oh, I forgot to take something!"

"Fuck, I thought you were quitting."

"Ah? I'm not quitting. No one's going to quit. Mr. Beelman, we may be underdogs, but we're not cowards."

After saying that, Gan Guohui ran off in a flash.

Beelman watched Gan Guohui's retreating figure, feeling inexplicably moved.

Among the nine team members, Gan Guohui, the chubby one, was probably the least skilled.

Running, jumping, stamina, techniques, awareness, from a professional perspective, were all unqualified, or even poor.

His only redeeming qualities were a decent shooting ability and his heavier body that was useful for positioning in the paint, that's about it.

They shared the same surname, Gan, with the same bloodline, yet the gap between them was so wide.

He never got the chance to play, just a cold benchwarmer, the cheerleader.

Lately, the training intensity for the team had been increasing, with Beelman making it harder for everyone.

On several occasions, Gan Guohui threw up during practice, clearly struggling to keep up due to a lack of past professional sports training.

Yet, even so, each time at practice Gan Guohui gave it his all, never arriving late or leaving early.

His perseverance and optimism had given Beelman a deeper, renewed insight into these young men.

Without a doubt, as a team leader, Gan Guoyang played a major role.

He was the source of everyone's confidence, with him around, everyone felt they had the backbone to win the game.

This was why Beelman wished even more that the team could win this game.

That weekend, he made a phone call to Mr. Kapu-Raven to ask about Fremont High School's situation.

Cap Raven was very familiar with the Bay Area basketball scene, and he was shocked to hear about the San Francisco League's decision.

"This is definitely suppression. Beiqiao High School's performance definitely qualifies them for the San Francisco League; they have already become news in San Francisco."

"And why not find a neutral court for the game, why go to Fremont's home court? Heading over to Oakland, Fremont is very strong; they have players who could make it to the NBA."

"Who?"

"Henry-Turner. A sophomore, 6 feet 6, forward, one of the top forwards in Oakland. The other young players are also very talented, each grown from the streets of Oakland with a tough style of play, definitely tough to handle."

Cap Raven was worried about the Beiqiao Shuizhong Team's fate, pointing out that they still had significant deficiencies in their roster.

"Your team lacks talent, only Gan stands out. Your strategy is fine, but it's for dealing with average teams. Against Fremont, you will find it very, very difficult, especially on their home court."

"I feel the same way. I started applying to the school since August, hoping to bring in another talented forward. But so far, no luck. There are very few promising Chinese-American players in San Francisco; they say Asian players are concentrated in Los Angeles."

"Does it have to be a Chinese-American player? Can it be someone of another race?"

"Of course, that's possible. Beiqiao High School isn't exclusively a Chinese school; they also have Black students. But no White students."

After pondering for a moment, Cap Raven said, "Bobby, as you know, if a talented player transfers during the school year, it often means that he's troubled in other areas."

Beelman shrugged, "I understand, many talented but problematic students get kicked around different schools, wasting their talent."

"Right, I know a kid, a junior this year, who's already switched three schools, a real thorn. If Beiqiao High School is willing to take him, maybe he can help you guys out."

"Introduce him to me; I can try. Right now at Beiqiao High School, basketball is the top priority."

Thus, Cap Raven introduced Becker-Franklin to Beelman, who drove to Hunter's Point in Western San Francisco the next morning. On a dilapidated court in one of the most frightening and dangerous ghettos in the Bay Area, he found Franklin executing a dunk over an opponent's head.

Beelman's arrival caused the entire block to be on alert, and when he explained his purpose, Franklin displayed an odd expression on his face.

"Beiqiao High School? A Chinese school? Are you joking with me?"

This boy, sporting an afro and wearing a tattered brown T-shirt, his face etched with prideful disdain.

As soon as he finished speaking, he turned and went back to the court to continue playing one-on-one streetball—with a bet of one US Dollar per game.

"We'll offer you a scholarship, providing a pathway for your future college admission, and... you'll be the second-in-command of the team, working together with Gan to defeat opponents."

The first two conditions were expected, but the third one provoked Franklin. He dropped the ball, pointed at Beelman, and said, "I'll only be the absolute core of the team, not some damned second-in-command! Gan? What kind of fool, that Chinese guy? Bullshit!"

"Let me meet your mother, I would like to talk to her. Also, if you don't agree, I can take you to have a contest with Gan. Just give it a try; you must have heard of him recently. How about we have lunch together? Is there a good restaurant around here, your favorite one?"

Franklin hesitated for a moment, named a restaurant, and then got into Beelman's car.