Chapter Fifteen: Don’t Mention It

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Gan Guoyang’s one-on-one duel with Nate Thurmond left Thurmond’s Cavaliers teammates dumbfounded.

Although everyone had come with the expectation of seeing Thurmond make a fool of himself, Thurmond was truly stifled, rendering everyone speechless.

For a moment, they couldn’t tell whether Thurmond had grown too old or if the young kid was genuinely as talented as he claimed—worthy of an NBA spot.

Only five years had passed since the 1976 Riefield Miracle.

That season, Thurmond, who had been traded to the team, was already past his prime, averaging only 4 points and 5 rebounds during the regular season.

But in the playoffs, his stats rose to 7 points and 9 rebounds, and the team advanced to the Eastern Conference Finals, just one win away from the NBA Finals.

In 1977, he played another season, averaging 5 points and 7 rebounds, appeared in one playoff game, and then retired, ending his basketball career.

Though Thurmond’s late-career stint was brief, it left a lasting impression on the Cavaliers, a franchise without much history at the time.

He was the eldest on that young squad with an average age of only 26, a spiritual pillar for the team, a source of pride for Akron residents, and a formidable presence in the paint.

For many years afterward, the members of that inspiring 1976 Cavaliers team would keep in touch, gather together, and reminisce about the passionate era that shook all of Ohio.

When they saw old Thurmond get scored on three times in a row by a scrappy young kid and even get blocked face-to-face once, a pang of melancholy touched their hearts—how swiftly time had flown.

Jim Jones strode onto the court holding the ball and addressed Thurmond: “Nate, let me teach this kid a lesson and show him what an NBA center is all about.”

Jones played for the Lakers, standing 6 feet 11 inches tall, was the team’s starting power forward, and a member of the 1980 NBA championship team.

Of course, Gan Guoyang did not recognize him.

Thurmond stopped Jones, saying, “What the hell are you talking about? This is my duel with him. Do I need someone else to stand up for me? You’re insulting me, kid. Give me the ball, Bunny!”

Irritated, Thurmond called Jones by his nickname “Bunny,” snatched the ball from him, and passed it to Gan Guoyang: “Let’s continue. Score two more and you win. If you really pull it off, I’ll help you with your NBA dream.”

Gan Guoyang held the ball, thinking to himself that these must be NBA players or former NBA players.

But he truly did not know any of them!

Since Thurmond said so, Gan Guoyang’s motivation only grew stronger.

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However, he quickly realized that when Thurmond focused on defense, there was no chance for him to score.

Just as Chen Xing and Gan Guohui had failed to score against him, the difference was glaringly obvious.

When it was Thurmond’s turn to attack, he would take mid-range jump shots from about 10 to 12 feet.

His long arms made his shots very hard to contest, and Gan Guoyang’s smaller frame left him powerless to stop Thurmond’s consecutive baskets.

Still, Gan Guoyang seized one opportunity, using his speed to bypass Thurmond and drive to the basket for a reverse layup—a move he had seen White use before.

With just one basket away from defeating Thurmond, Gan Guoyang’s game-winning shot was emphatically blocked by Thurmond’s soaring rejection. The old man was truly fighting with everything he had.

The score was tied 4-4, and neither side could score on their next several possessions; both offenses were stymied.

On Thurmond’s final offensive play, instead of taking a shot, he muscled his way under the basket, using his weight and strength to pry open a tiny gap and banked in a layup.

Finally, a basket.

5-4.

Now serious, Thurmond had defeated Gan Guoyang, sweat beading on his bald head.

Though it was a game of just five shots, both had expended considerable energy; Thurmond’s jersey was drenched, and his knees ached and throbbed.

Gan Guoyang, on the other hand, wore a crestfallen expression—yet his face was calm, his heart unflustered, only a light sheen of sweat.

“Fuck, I’m really old. Times have changed…” Thurmond thought.

In his youth, playing in the league, he was known for his gritty, relentless defense.

On nights facing super centers, he would sweat profusely and exhaust his opponents.

Now, even a five-shot game of one-on-one had him struggling against a young Chinese kid—times truly had changed.

Catching his breath, Thurmond stepped forward and shook Gan Guoyang’s hand: “Well done, kid. Looks like your NBA ambitions aren’t just talk. But with your physical condition, why didn’t you make your high school team?”

Gan Guoyang explained, “I’ve only been in America for a month. I haven’t started school yet.”

That explained it—not a lack of ability, but simply a new immigrant.

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“No wonder. You have talent, but your fundamentals… need work. If you want, you can come practice with me sometime. I happen to be around here handling some business at my shop.”

“Really?” Gan Guoyang’s eyes lit up. If he could get guidance from a professional, he was certain to learn a lot in the coming week.

“Of course. But every time you come, bring some good food along. Guys, you’ve seen enough of this show. Let’s eat; the food’s gone cold. Damn, we’ve been playing for so long…”

Thurmond’s teammates returned to the shop to continue their commemorative gathering.

Gan Guoyang grabbed his lunchbox and hurried away—his father and the others must be worried.

“Nate, I can’t believe you couldn’t hold your ground against a kid,” Jones said with a sigh.

“I’m not that weak. That kid was just stronger than I expected. He outmuscled me, and I had to give my all just to get past him. My legs can’t take it anymore.”

“Nate, are you sure you’re not just making excuses? That kid looked like he weighed only 180 pounds,” Jim Brewer said; he also played for the Lakers.

“Believe it or not, I think he’s not blindly confident. His shooting touch is very good. With proper training, he could be no worse than you, Jones, in the future.”

Jim Jones was known for his mid-range shooting and turnaround jumpers. Most of his points came from jump shots, and he was Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s excellent deputy on the Lakers.

Hearing Thurmond’s praise, Jones was displeased: “You’re underrating me, Nate. A random kid can’t be on my level. I’m a championship-level big man.”

“Oh really? A championship big man who got completely dominated by Moses Malone in April?”

In the 1981 Western Conference playoffs, the defending champion Lakers were upset in the first round by the Rockets. In the first game on April 1st, at home, Malone grabbed 11 offensive rebounds, demolished the Lakers’ interior, and led the Rockets to a shocking victory, sealing the Lakers’ fate in the series.

As the team’s anchor inside, Jones averaging just 5 rebounds per game was clearly inadequate.

“Moses is Moses; that’s a different matter altogether. Damn it, don’t bring that up, Nate.”

“Okay, and you better not mention my one-on-one with the kid either.”