On the 21st, the weather changed from sunny to cloudy.
After seeing the members of the Ridley Middle School basketball team, Su Feng suddenly realized how scary high-school Kobe really was. If you compared Nefalia to tofu dregs, then Lower Merion was, at most, a crooked melon—but look at Ridley Middle! They had veterans of all kinds. On this team, the shortest starter was their point guard, Goodman, who stood 188 cm tall and weighed 81 kg. The tallest was their center, Larson—201 cm and 95 kg. No wonder they'd been a powerhouse in Pennsylvania for the past six years.
Realistically, everyone on Lower Merion—except Kobe and Su Feng, who could hold their own—would be completely overwhelmed by Ridley Middle.
"Before, I wondered why Tarvia looked so familiar. Wasn't she a cheerleader?" Su Feng said from the Lower Merion stands, watching Tarvia lead the dance on the court.
"Well, since Tarvia joined the squad, our cheerleading style has changed," Bryant said with feeling.
"Oh?" Su Feng's gossip instincts were piqued again.
"In the past, our cheerleaders were all pretty beauties—but Tarvia said that wasn't powerful enough. See? Now the routine is more like a Māori dance from New Zealand," Kobe sighed.
Su Feng almost laughed out loud.
"Su, look over there: that's Ridley Middle's small forward, Williamson. He's their ace. He's very strong but not a great shooter. If you face him, watch out for his brute force. Last year, when I went one-on-one against him, he kept pushing me," Kobe said, patting Su Feng on the shoulder and pointing to a hulking black player. Rumor had it Williamson—193 cm and 95 kg—bench-pressed more than many NBA players.
But after listening to Kobe's description, Su Feng felt Williamson wouldn't be impossible to handle. On defense, even if Carter tried to challenge him, Su Feng wouldn't be shaken—though Carter's name did carry weight. In Su Feng's memory, Williamson had never even played in the NBA. Kobe crushed him daily; if Williamson tried to school Su Feng, that would be overkill.
Of course, underestimating an opponent in your head is one thing; tactically, Su Feng had already planned how to deal with Williamson.
After Su Feng joined Lower Merion, Kobe had asked Coach Greg to let him play shooting guard in high school. In American high schools, some 190-cm players are slotted at center, so Kobe had played every position throughout his high-school career. But once he aimed for the NBA, he knew his best fit would be shooting guard. Greg agreed—he had a new "utility man" at forward.
"Su, don't go near him. Williamson's no joke," Greg cautioned before tip-off. After all, although Su Feng had practiced one-on-one against Kobe, Williamson's size was on another level.
In Lower Merion Basketball Hall, students cheered wildly for the home team. The girls even chanted, "If you win, how will I celebrate?"—a slogan Su Feng looked down on. How could anyone focus on fun when playing?
After warm-ups, the players from both teams stepped onto the court. Lower Merion chose Kobe for the opening tip. No surprise—who could stop Kobe from flying?
As Su Feng slowly approached Williamson, Williamson suddenly grinned and jeered, "Yellow-skinned Asian, today I'll show you what real fear is!"
Su Feng thought, "Brother, is every insult a stock line? You can't even change a word?" "Sick man of East Asia"—was he expecting a medal for that?
Su Feng ignored him. Williamson assumed the kid was scared and continued, "Watch out. I might knock your brains out!"
Su Feng: "..."
No wonder Kobe warned me about him.
Su Feng sighed, looked at Williamson, and asked, "Do you know who your father is?"
Williamson was stunned—because he didn't. In the United States, many thugs mouth off at everyone and mention nothing. Su Feng had just asked a simple question, but it clearly rattled Williamson. He shook his head.
"Well, you look so pathetic. From now on, I'll call you 'brother,' and you call me 'dad,' so you can learn what fatherly love really feels like," Su Feng said. His English was sly—Williamson didn't get it, but Swartz on the sidelines did and cheered like a child.
Sure enough—talent without IQ.
Looking at Williamson, Su Feng became even more certain of his plan. He decided to teach Williamson a lesson. This lesson was "backing him down."
Snap!
In the center circle, as Kobe won the tip-off against Larson—who couldn't jump—this highly anticipated battle began.
Before the game, Su Feng noticed that, besides Duke scouts, North Carolina's scouts had come from miles away. The attention on this game was on another level compared to the Nefalia vs. Lower Merion scrimmage.
Lower Merion got the ball, and in the frontcourt, Su Feng ran their "Play 1," practiced for two days. This play was simple: a classic pick-and-roll off the baseline, relying on the center to set the screen and roll out.
Su Feng had observed Williamson's warm-up: though strong like a bull, his wingspan and vertical leap were average. He wouldn't be very fast.
So when Su Feng sprinted at full speed, Williamson gradually fell behind. Though teammate Russman failed to block Williamson from chasing Su Feng after the pick, Su Feng was confident Williamson's reach wouldn't stop him. Cutting to the opposite corner, Su Feng caught a pass from Swartz.
Finally, "Tool Man" Swartz felt his point-guard career was blooming—he could show his full vision.
Su Feng caught the pass from Swartz and launched a jump shot. Williamson rushed at him desperately—still trying to figure out what Su Feng had said earlier. "Damn, this kid is using me!" But as Su Feng predicted, Williamson couldn't contest the shot. Moreover, his brain seemed to freeze mid-air; he lost his balance when he jumped. Su Feng leaned into Williamson as soon as he released.
"Oh, hey!"
Swish—! Beep—!
With a taunting shout, Su Feng drained a four-pointer!
Life is like a play; it all depends on the acting.
In Lower Merion Basketball Hall, the students went wild.
"On fire!" "Nice shot!"
Because Su Feng's domination was so obvious, even the referee warned Williamson to control himself. But... Williamson really didn't want to foul.
Bryant rushed over to help Su Feng up. "You okay?" he asked.
Su Feng waved it off and pointed at Williamson. "Don't worry—he'll live."
Kobe smiled. Indeed, he was a man of his word.
Amid the cheers, Su Feng walked to the free-throw line and made both shots.
0–4!
On the sideline, Coach Greg was thrilled with the execution. In his view, besides locking down defensively, spreading the floor, and letting Kobe roam, they now had another weapon.
Looking back, Williamson seemed eager to re-engage, so he posted up for the first time. Meanwhile, Larson rolled to the corner... Gotta say, this guy was a monster!
Whether it was pure brute strength or this effort, Su Feng—whose name means "wind"—refused to be bullied.
As Williamson caught the ball, Su Feng bumped his elbow into Williamson's hip and used his foot to deny him position. Though lighter than Williamson, Su Feng had noticed during warm-ups that Williamson's post moves were crude. Under high-school rules, whether it's a drive or a post move, if you lack proper technique, you simply can't play.
In the 1990s, the four great centers made a difference because each had a unique skill. Too bad that Williamson, in Su Feng's eyes, had neither IQ nor post moves.
Sure enough, Williamson froze after catching the ball—because he just couldn't handle Su Feng!
"Unbelievable—what's going on? Did this Chinese kid train in kung fu? Or is he a Shaolin master hiding in America? Or the third generation of Jeet Kune Do?" Williamson couldn't decipher it, so in desperation he opted for a turnaround jumper.
But on this turnaround, Su Feng would bet a hundred bucks it wouldn't go in.
Clang—!
As expected, it rimmed out. Williamson's technique was zero—hence his reliance on strength back at his old school. Su Feng could back up three steps and invite him again.
In the past, using brute force, Williamson bullied his peers at will. But tonight, he faced Su Feng—an iron man with serious skills!
On the other end, Kobe grabbed the rebound, dribbled up, and launched a fast break. Ridley Middle's shooting guard couldn't stop Kobe; Kobe easily found the lane, leaped, and threw down a thunderous dunk!
0–6!
The atmosphere in Lower Merion High School Basketball Hall exploded, thanks to Su Feng and Kobe!
"That's exactly like them," said Duke University scout Wesley, eyes wide.
And Leonard, a scout from North Carolina nearby, nodded: "If you didn't know who they were, you'd swear you just watched the Bulls."
On the court, still unimpressed, Williamson touched his nose again. He was outside the three-point line, about to drive when he realized Su Feng had stepped back and was shading him.
"Damn!"
From that distance, even if Williamson broke inside, Su Feng could cut him off, maybe even force a turnover.
But he had already signaled for the ball from his teammates.
This... Williamson summoned his courage. One step inside the arc...
Then nothing.
Kobe grabbed the rebound, and Su Feng sprinted upcourt at once. Williamson couldn't recover. Su Feng caught Kobe's pass at the top of the key, planted his feet in the shooting position Kobe had drilled for two days, and rose up for a decisive jump!
Slam—!
Though Su Feng's height and strength meant his dunk couldn't match Kobe's, he was still ecstatic—it was the first dunk of his formal basketball career! More importantly, he drew a foul!
"What a beautiful slam!" Kobe shouted, running over and bumping chests with Su Feng.
0–8.
Mills, a reporter from the Philadelphia Recorder covering the game, snapped the moment with excitement. Years later, he'd cherish being at Lower Merion that day—because he captured a priceless photograph.
"This is... Philly's dynamic duo!" Mills exclaimed.
Beside him, Maxson of the Philadelphia Evening News officially dubbed Kobe and Su Feng "Philly."