Chapter Eleven: The Fundamentals

Gump's team quickly scored the first point after gaining possession of the ball. Chen Xing passed the ball to Gump, who had moved to the top of the arc. Receiving the ball about 20 feet from the basket, Gump confidently nailed a long-range jump shot. His release was swift and unhesitant, clearly showing great confidence in his shot, though the distance was unexpected.

In the 1980s, the three-point line was still a novelty; the NBA had only been experimenting with this rule for two seasons. Last season, the entire league made just 943 three-pointers, averaging only one per game, rendering its impact negligible. To old-school college coaches, the three-point shot was nothing more than a flashy stunt to entertain the crowd, much like dunks—either too close or too far—and, while exciting, it was seen as useless or even detrimental to winning.

Therefore, players trained in traditional systems rarely practiced long-range shooting; scoring inside and mid-range shots were considered the proper methods. For a future inside player like the two-meter-tall Gump to step out and take such a distant shot only highlighted his uniqueness to Coach Kapp. Kapp suspected that the young man lacked formal collegiate training; his shooting form was unconventional, with an unusually bent upper arm, an adjustment likely made to power shots from greater distances.

After conceding the first basket and suffering a harsh block, the Cancer team’s pride took a hit. Yet, White and Steve Lavin did not lose their composure. Their upcoming plays showed remarkable coordination. Through consecutive screens and cuts, Lavin, aware that Gump was the defensive cornerstone, skillfully engaged him to create better scoring opportunities.

White cut sharply to the basket, received a lob from Lavin, and dribbled past Gump with a single step before finishing with a reverse layup from the opposite side of the hoop.

"Damn it, you almost blocked me," White teased Gump after scoring, still resentful of the earlier hard block on his shot. Gump remained expressionless, ignoring the remark. During the next offensive play, he moved again to the top of the arc, caught the ball, and launched another long-distance shot—swish! Gump’s team took the lead.

Soon after, Gump disrupted Pitman’s layup attempt on defense and secured the rebound. Chen Xing quickly pushed the attack, exploiting Cancer’s unsettled defense by driving into the paint. Knowing he couldn’t penetrate White’s defense alone, he banked the ball off the backboard. Gump followed up with a high leap, catching the ball mid-air for a one-handed slam dunk—an elegant and difficult aerial finish.

Gump’s feet landed on the blue hardcourt of the Roshanbo arena, the steel rim trembling slightly from the force. This play was a tactic Chen Xing and Gump had practiced many times, often catching opponents off guard and wreaking havoc. After the successful alley-oop, Gump and Chen Xing exchanged high fives. Gump then beckoned to Gump Hui to join in the celebration; his defensive distraction had also been invaluable.

Though their skills varied, with Gump’s presence, they formed a formidable unit. The once timid Gump Hui was gradually gaining confidence.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Several young black men couldn’t help but dance in excitement. A black man on the sidelines shouted, “Hey buddy, what’s your name?” Gump responded, “Gump. Sunny Gump!”

“Go, Gump!”
“Give us some more Tuff, Gump!”
“Gump, crush them hard!”
“Well done, Gump!”

The crowd’s spirit was ignited; on the streets, it was skill that mattered, not skin color. The Cancer team had been undefeated at Roshanbo, and streetball fans were eager to witness the Warriors take on the Dragons.

Eric White felt a pang of annoyance. Having played at Roshanbo for a year or two, the cheers he received never matched the enthusiasm this newcomer was garnering today. But fans were visual creatures; although White was strong, his solid and unflashy style failed to captivate the street crowd.

Steve Lavin came over to console White, “Relax, Eric, we haven’t even given our all yet, right? They’ll feel the pain soon enough.”

Lavin’s confidence in their trio was evident, and White calmed down, focusing on offense. Lavin lobbed the ball to White in the low post. White backed in—post-up skills were essential offensive techniques in this era from guards to centers. Except for a few adults, White’s physique dominated Roshanbo: standing six-foot-six and 190 pounds, few his age could match him.

Today, however, he finally faced a worthy opponent. Trying to box out, White felt as if Gump was nailed to the ground, his efforts futile against the immovable force. Dribbling and driving inside, it was like hitting a concrete pillar.

“WTF, is this guy a telephone pole buried underground?” White muttered in disbelief. Abandoning the idea of overpowering him, he passed back to Lavin.

“This kid’s defense is so solid, Eric can’t get past him?” Lavin was surprised. Receiving the ball, he immediately changed tactics. Driving left, he passed to Pitman, who circled around for a quick jump shot—score.

Cancer kept the pressure. Gump Hui’s defense was ultimately a glaring weakness. He couldn’t keep up with Pitman’s agile movement and was already short of breath after just a few possessions.

This was exactly why the Cancer team was named so—they excelled at wearing down opponents through relentless offense and defense, endless running, a blistering pace, and tireless, aggressive man-to-man defense. Teams lacking overall strength often crumbled under such pressure.

After initial probing plays, Cancer’s defensive intensity ramped up significantly. White began tight, sticky defense with constant hand activity, striving to sever passing lanes between Chen Xing and Gump. Chen Xing, unable to shake Lavin’s defense, committed two turnovers in a row, surrendering possession.

Pitman nailed another jumper; then Lavin broke free, driving to the basket. With Gump providing help defense, Lavin bounced the ball to White, who unleashed a satisfying two-handed dunk, dispelling his earlier frustration.

By contrast, Gump struggled against the professionally trained tight defense. Chen Xing couldn’t get the ball inside smoothly, and Gump tried to catch and handle the ball on the perimeter. His dribbling was still lacking, allowing Lavin, who swarmed him like sticky gum, to steal the ball.

Lavin looked upcourt and threaded a perfect pass inside. White caught it and scored with ease. Unable to break through dribbling, Gump attempted a post-up. But White’s defense was unlike any other; he circled three-quarters around to pin the powerful Gump firmly behind him. Despite Gump’s immense strength, mere brute force without technique led to a foul.

Chen Xing’s attempt to lob over the defense was thwarted—Lavin’s relentless shadowing made passing nearly impossible. Gump Hui stepped out to the top of the arc for support, caught the ball, and tossed it inward, hoping Gump would leap and snatch it. But White anticipated the pass, intercepted it, and maintained possession.

The crowd that had cheered for Gump now fell silent. The black man shook his head and muttered, “Can’t handle the pressure, kid.”

Coach Kapp’s suspicions were confirmed: this kid had great talent but serious fundamental flaws. At sixteen, it was a pity; that basic skill set was unlikely to develop much further.