Chapter Sixty-Five: The Appearance of Wu Rui!

The first quarter of the game between the Magic and the Thunder ended with the home team almost entirely in control. Serge Ibaka, facing his former team, racked up 13 points and 6 assists in just one quarter, and his individual rebound total exceeded that of the Thunder’s two starting big men combined. After all, Domantas Sabonis had managed to grab only a single rebound.

With Ibaka performing at such a high level, the Magic's efficiency as a team soared, and their 57% shooting percentage in the first quarter spoke volumes.

“Guys, you were amazing out there! Those guys from Oklahoma must be at their wits’ end now!”

Back on the bench, Bismack Biyombo—who had grabbed quite a few rebounds in the latter half of the quarter—was practically dancing. “Especially their MVP—he’s been completely neutralized by us!”

“Russell isn’t that kind of player. We need to keep that in mind for the rest of the game,” Ibaka, the standout performer of the first quarter, quickly reminded everyone. Having been Westbrook’s teammate for years, Ibaka understood him better than anyone. He knew that this bundle of energy would never continue to play as poorly as he had in the first quarter.

On the sidelines in the commentary booth, Charles Barkley was having similar thoughts. He glanced over at his two colleagues, cocking his neck. “Okay, Kenny, I know you’re about to tear into Russell’s first quarter performance from head to toe.”

“But I want to say, let’s give him some more time. The team’s losing streak is obviously frustrating him,” Barkley continued, citing the stats. “Think about it—a player averaging 31, 9, and 9 over a season at an MVP level—there’s no way he’d stay this inefficient for an entire game.”

“Of course, Charles,” before Kenny Smith could chime in, Shaquille O’Neal interjected, “Maybe you should give Michael Wu the same amount of time—instead of just thirty seconds.”

“Who? Michael Wu?” At O’Neal’s words, Barkley’s usually expressionless face suddenly showed a spark of interest. “Shaq, my old friend, you’ve got to at least let our little Michael get on the court before I waste my breath on him.”

“But he hasn’t even gotten thirty seconds of playing time, and his team is already up by double digits.” Barkley waved his hand dismissively. “Maybe tonight, Michael Wu is just another VIP spectator.”

“That’s enough, Charles. Just wait—Michael will get his chance, and he’ll prove everything with his play.” O’Neal was clearly excited, but then his face broke into a mischievous grin. “Just like his countryman, Yao Ming.”

When it comes to Chinese players and Charles Barkley, you can’t avoid mentioning the towering Yao Ming—and that infamous donkey with a backside worth its weight in gold.

“Shaq, you big oaf, leave that damned donkey out of this!” O’Neal’s words had exactly the effect he intended; Barkley was a little riled. “Are you saying Michael is as talented as Yao? That’s impossible. Yao was one of the most gifted centers I’ve ever seen. There will never be another Chinese player as good as him!”

“Sir Charles, why not make a bet?”

The two, never ones to back down from a spat, were quick to escalate. O’Neal nodded his head theatrically. “Michael is definitely the next guy who’s going to have you kissing a donkey’s behind!”

“I’m not betting with you. I never want to see that round thing again.” Barkley refused outright; after all, that donkey’s backside was one of his most humiliating memories. But he insisted, “But I don’t think I’d lose anyway. Michael Wu simply doesn’t have the ability to score in double figures in an NBA game.”

“At best, his career peak will be as a mascot for a lottery team!”

“Okay, okay, Charles, that’s an interesting take. But if this mascot can throw down a dunk over Rudy Gobert, I’m sure every NBA team would want him.” O’Neal’s eyes suddenly lit up. “Come on, guys, let’s see what this mascot can do!”

While the commentators were in the heat of debate, the second quarter was about to begin on the court. The Thunder’s lineup had changed considerably: Jerami Grant, with his impressive athleticism, was playing at small forward, while Joffrey Lauvergne and Enes Kanter formed the frontcourt, and Alex Abrines and Semaj Christon manned the backcourt.

These names might sound impressive, but in reality, most fans at the Amway Center in Orlando barely recognized anyone but Kanter.

Such is the fate of small-market teams. Once, they boasted James Harden, Jeff Green, Reggie Jackson, Serge Ibaka, and Kevin Durant, but in the end, only Russell Westbrook and a handful of little-known rotation players remained.

On the Magic’s side, Frank Vogel sent out a more reliable lineup. Bismack Biyombo and Aaron Gordon formed the frontcourt—not the tallest, but quick and offensively potent.

In the backcourt, DJ Augustin and CJ Wilcox took the floor, both reliable in experience and shooting.

And at small forward, Coach Vogel put Michael Wu in to start the second quarter!

“That’s number 0—Michael Wu, the rookie who called out Russell!”

“My God, he looks so refined—you wouldn’t expect him to be such a bold young man!”

With Michael Wu on the court, many American fans watching through TNT’s website immediately began to share their opinions. To be honest, many had tuned in because of the headlines, but Wu hadn’t seen a second of playing time in the first quarter, leaving them sorely disappointed.

But now that the audacious youngster was finally stepping onto the stage, the number of viewers even ticked up a notch!

And Wu did not let the waiting fans down. The Magic had possession—DJ Augustin brought the ball up, and in stride, suddenly raised his hand and lobbed the ball toward the hoop!

As tens of thousands in the arena wondered what was going on, number 0 in the home jersey soared up by the rim, grabbed the ball with both hands, and slammed it home with authority!

“Dunk!”

“Alley-oop!”

In the commentary booth, O’Neal had been pondering how to introduce Michael Wu, but the young player saved him the trouble. “I think this young Chinese-American player needs no introduction. That dunk says it all!”

Clearing his throat, O’Neal declared,

“Michael Wu—the Orlando Magic’s hidden gem from this year’s draft!”