"You should've shown me this game footage earlier! If you'd done that, that kid would already be in Indianapolis!"
It was early morning, and Brad Stevens, head coach of the Butler Bulldogs, had just stepped into his office when his chief scout, Roger Harpy, stormed in, practically vibrating with excitement.
"Damn it, Roger, did you get a wink of sleep last night?" Stevens raised an eyebrow, noting the dark circles under Harpy's eyes that were even more pronounced than his beer belly.
"Sleep? God, no! That kid's performance had me wired! He's the first point guard I've seen go toe-to-toe with John Wall! Can you imagine if we pair him with Gordon Hayward? We might actually win a trophy! I've already sent an invitation to our trials."
Harpy flopped down into the chair opposite Stevens's desk. His eyes glimmered with the kind of exhilaration only a scout can feel after discovering a hidden gem.
For a scout, finding an undiscovered talent is like hitting the lottery.
"Slow down, buddy," Stevens replied, calm as ever. "Let's wait until he passes our trial first. And I heard the kid's grades… they're not exactly encouraging. If he can't meet the academic qualifications then we're out of options."
"What trial? I'm flying to Long Beach tomorrow to watch him in the high school league for half a month and report to you in real-time. And don't worry about the grades. I'll talk to his mother. I'm sure she's a well-educated woman, and I'm sure she'll help. You know, John Wall didn't exactly walk a straight path either."
Harpy was confident. A complete turnaround in his attitude since yesterday.
Stevens leaned forward, his tone shifting. "High school league? Do you want to know why no college has reached out to him yet? Because that kid was kicked off the the team a month ago. Got into a conflict with a teammate during practice and broke the poor kid's nose. No more high school league. Which means…"
He stared at Harpy, emphasizing each word. "We are his only chance to keep playing basketball."
----
It was noon in Long Beach, and the sun blazed down hard. Most people were cooling off at the beach or hiding indoors, but Kai Yi was out on the cracked court near his apartment, dribbling an old, worn-out basketball.
This place—the court—was the only spot that brought him peace. The only place that made this so-called "troublemaker" feel any kind of reverence.
His father had been a professional basketball player—not a CBA star, but good enough to support a family through the game. But when Kai was eight, his father's career ended with an injury. Staying in China would only lead to painful memories so he packed up, took his wife and son to the U.S., and tried to start over.
(CBA = Chinese Basketball Association)
The American dream, however, didn't greet them with open arms.
One day, Kai came home from school and found his father arguing with a group of men at the local street court. Then, before his eyes, one of them pulled a gun and shot him dead.
Eight-year-old Kai witnessed the whole thing.
The police barely blinked. In a rough part of Long Beach like the Wood District, shootings were just another statistic.
The court was stained with blood. The place that had once echoed with laughter turned into a grave. And Kai changed. He stopped being the sweet kid he once was.
He fought—not because he was bad, but because he had to protect himself.
His mother worked tirelessly after that. Their savings ran out. They survived on her alone.
That's why Kai had turned to crime. He didn't want his mother to break herself for their survival. He was nearly 18. He had to be the man now.
Kai shook off the memories and kept dribbling. Maybe he was thinking about what it meant to be a father, to grow up, to take responsibility.
After running a few laps around the court, he started shooting. Though he'd been kicked off the school team, his routine hadn't stopped. Years of discipline don't vanish overnight.
And he didn't regret hitting that teammate either. The guy insulted his mother—called her a lowlife. Kai didn't hesitate. That punch wasn't a mistake.
As for the future? He didn't want to think about it. Not yet. For now, basketball gave him a few hours of freedom.
Kai returned home, soaked in sweat. The moment he walked in, he noticed his mother quickly hiding something behind her back.
"What's that in your hand, Mom?" he asked, dropping the basketball.
"Nothing," she said quickly. "Just about to make you some lunch."
Kai saw her eyes—red and tired. The tear tracks were fresh.
In a flash, he lunged forward and snatched the note. As expected, it was another bill. And the total? Way beyond what they could afford.
"Why is it so much?" he asked quietly.
"I covered some of the medical expenses for the boy you hurt. It's okay. I can take a night shift at the convenience store. We'll manage."
She took the paper back and turned to cook. Kai stood frozen. He'd wanted to take pressure off her shoulders—and here he was, adding more weight. Maybe he was just a kid after all.
"Mom."
"Hm? Food will be ready soon. Chicken curry, your favorite. They had a sale at the corner store, so I decided to stock up on curry."
"I want to try."
"I told you, I don't want you working as a mechanic"
"No, I mean Butler University. I want to try."
Silence.
"You want to go to college?" She peeked out from the kitchen, hope rising behind her smile.
"I think… full scholarships cover a lot."
The next morning, Harpy went to the Wood District to find Kai Yi . As he was heading to the address he spotted Kai shooting hoops at a court. Recognizing him, he approached.
"You're Kai, right?" the man asked, stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance.
Kai didn't answer at first. He just nodded, cautiously.
The man extended a hand. "Name's Roger Harpy. Head scout for Butler University. I watched some footage of you yesterday, and honestly… it damn near kept me up all night."
"Is your mom home? What about your dad?"
"My dad's dead."
"…I'm sorry."
"Come on up. We were expecting you so my mom made toast and milk for you."
Kai tucked the ball under his arm and led the way.
"Hey, about Butler—"
"I'll attend the trial. You bring the scholarship."
Harpy was stunned. He'd prepared a whole speech to convince the kid—but Kai was already in.
Seventeen-year-old Kai Yi was done watching his mother suffer. If he didn't want to end up dead or locked up, basketball was his only way out.
As Harpy followed him into the building, he couldn't help but feel it:
The door to a new world had cracked open.
Many years later, when Harpy looked back on that day, he'd remember it clearly—because it was the beginning of a legend.