Chapter Eighteen: High Jump or Football

"What on earth is happening!"
Seated at the commentary booth, the veteran ESPN commentator couldn’t help but shout out as he witnessed the events unfolding on the court.
"Michael Wu has snatched the rebound over Willie Cauley-Stein for the second time in a row!" he exclaimed, flipping through his stats at hand. "Sacramento’s big man certainly didn’t expect that after losing the offensive rebound, even the defensive rebound wouldn’t belong to him!"
The commentator’s shock was mirrored by the surprise among the crowd.
On the court, the young center for the Kings stood at 2.13 meters tall, while Wu Rui, who had out-jumped him for the rebound, looked barely two meters. Regardless of Wu Rui’s wingspan, the height difference between them was undeniable.
Yet, despite this, Wu Rui still claimed the rebound!
"Dude, I take back what I said earlier. Asians who make it to the NBA are truly something else!"
In the stands, a Magic fan who had previously grumbled about Wu Rui instantly changed his tune, staring at Magic’s number 0 on the floor. He couldn’t help but blurt out, "This kid is freaking amazing!"
"Did he put springs in his shoes?" his friend chimed in excitedly. "I think he’s the highest-jumping Asian I’ve ever seen!"
"No, man!" the Black fan who had doubted Wu Rui at first interrupted. "He’s the highest-jumping rookie this year!"
"Michael, you’re incredible!"
Back on the court, Bismack Biyombo snapped out of his brief daze and turned to Wu Rui, who had grabbed the offensive rebound, lavishing him with praise. "Man, why don’t you try out for track and field? You’d be world-class in the high jump!"
"I actually started out training for the high jump, but that field wasn’t challenging enough for me. You know how it is," Wu Rui replied, grinning as his veteran teammate joked around, never missing a beat. "Basketball is a far bigger challenge than high jump!"
"Hahaha, you sure talk a big game!"
Wu Rui’s quip made Serge Ibaka, who happened to pass by, burst into laughter. He patted Wu Rui’s shoulder, and the shadow in his heart from being dominated by Willie Cauley-Stein seemed to brighten considerably!
Willie Cauley-Stein might be a rebounding beast, but we’ve got Michael Wu!
Wu Rui scratched his head, suddenly a bit bashful. He glanced at his hands, which had just snatched the rebound, then looked down at his explosive legs and clenched his fists tightly.
How wonderful it is to have legs that can run and jump!
With that thought, Wu Rui didn’t linger. He quickly caught up with Biyombo, ready to defend in transition.
"Shit! That kid isn’t even a basketball player!" Meanwhile, on the Kings’ side, Willie Cauley-Stein felt thoroughly frustrated after Wu Rui’s repeated rebounding feats. "He should go to the Olympics for high jump—why is he playing basketball?"
"Alright, Willie, calm down!"
Rudy Gay received the baseline inbound from Willie Cauley-Stein and hurried to comfort his young teammate. Truth be told, Gay wondered why the talkative guy on the other team wasn’t playing football instead!
That physique, that power, those explosive legs—he’s practically born for football!
Of course, maybe a bit too tall.
On the other side, Kings head coach Dave Joerger’s expression shifted. The game had been going smoothly for his team, but Wu Rui’s sudden emergence brought a ripple he hadn’t wanted to see.
He glanced at the scoreboard—his team still led, with 45.6 seconds left in the quarter. Joerger felt a bit more at ease. In his mind, while Wu Rui’s presence had caused some trouble on both ends, Wu Rui’s goofy demeanor suggested he was just a wild card for the Magic coach.
Besides, watching Wu Rui pass the ball every time he got it, he doubted the kid had any scoring ability. As long as they weathered the first quarter and Cousins returned to the court, the game would be firmly in hand.
Things unfolded as Joerger expected. Rudy Gay, a scoring threat, couldn’t back down Wu Rui, so he called for a screen. Using Kosta Koufos’s pick, Gay managed to shake Wu Rui’s defense and launched a mid-range shot.
As Wu Rui circled the screen and tried to block Gay, the ball swished through the net!
"The Kings executed this offensive possession beautifully—the quality of the screen was excellent, and Rudy Gay’s touch remains superb," commented the announcer, his gaze falling on Wu Rui. "But we can’t overlook Michael Wu’s energetic help defense. In my opinion, he’s better suited than Jeff Green to be Orlando’s backup small forward!"
The commentator’s words echoed the sentiments of the fans. Wu Rui hadn’t successfully defended against this screen play, but his energy was undeniable. In contrast, Jeff Green’s earlier performance had the home fans wishing for a trade!
Of course, no matter how energetic Wu Rui was, his offensive weakness still affected the Magic’s overall attack. After Elfrid Payton’s drive and kick, Wu Rui wasn’t an option, which left the Magic playing four-on-five on offense.
"Duang!"
As the shot clock ticked down, Evan Fournier received the pass but found no room to shoot. He glanced at his teammates; the only open man was Wu Rui, whom Rudy Gay had sagged off by two steps. With no choice, Fournier forced up a shot, and as expected, it clanged off the rim!
The last possession of the quarter fell to the Kings. They slowed things down, trying to run a play, but Ibaka’s timely help defense ruined their plans.
With the red light flashing, the first quarter came to an end. The Sacramento Kings led on the road, 37 to 29, an eight-point advantage!
Back on the bench, Wu Rui felt unsettled. His performance in the final moments left him dissatisfied—not only had he been lost on defense during the screen play, but his limited presence on offense made him uncomfortable.
He wrapped his head in a towel, bowed low, and said nothing.
"Hey, fellas, the mood seems a bit off."
On the Magic’s bench, it wasn’t just Wu Rui—other players were downcast as well. The team had allowed 37 points in the first quarter and trailed by eight, hardly a cause for excitement.
Seeing his dejected players, Frank Vogel, who was usually fiery, broke into a smile for once. "You must all think your performance was terrible?"
"Yes, I can tell you with certainty—everyone’s performance was disastrous," Vogel said, pausing. "Of course, except for one person."