Chapter 21: The Veil

Leaving Concord High School in the morning, Bellman drove to Palo Alto, a small city in the southwestern Bay Area, for an interview for the head basketball coach position at Palo Alto High School.

He had slicked back his hair and donned a decent suit. Along the way, he kept checking the rearview mirror, dabbing a bit of face cream on his skin to mask the haggard look left by the previous night’s heavy drinking. For Bellman, this job at Palo Alto High was an opportunity—a chance to turn his life around.

Before the age of 35, Bellman’s life had been smooth sailing. After graduating from the University of Notre Dame, he stayed on as an assistant coach for the basketball team while pursuing a graduate degree in sociology. The year he graduated, he married his longtime girlfriend and soon had a lovely daughter. He was filled with passion for basketball and constantly honed his skills as a coach, with the goal of becoming an NCAA Division I head coach by 35.

However, in 1977, he was caught up in a point-shaving scandal. While the NCAA quickly suppressed the incident, preventing it from blowing up, Bellman lost his job regardless. Although subsequent investigations proved his innocence, his position had already been filled, and he could not be reinstated. Following this, his marriage hit a crisis, leading to a divorce in 1979, with his daughter moving to New Jersey with her mother. During this period, he developed a drinking problem, attending weekly support group meetings for recovery, though with little effect.

This spring, he unexpectedly received an invitation from Frank Allock, a former player and junior of his, to come to San Francisco. Allock said he was starting a long-term basketball camp and needed a professional coach to help out. With the economy in a downturn and no other way forward, Bellman came to California. Many people from the Midwest were heading to the West Coast during that era in pursuit of the California Dream—Raymond’s friend Isbell was one of them, who later went on to help found the band Guns N' Roses with Rose.

Given Bellman’s abilities, a summer camp was a complete waste of his talent. Furthermore, his short temper and tendency to use foul language on the court frequently led to complaints from clients. Therefore, securing a full-time coaching position was his best path forward.

Palo Alto High School was a well-known private school in the Bay Area, boasting a beautiful campus, a great teaching environment, and high-quality students. Working there was an excellent choice. Upon arriving at the school, the refreshing white and green Mediterranean-style architecture cleared the fog in Bellman’s mind. The interview went quite smoothly; Bellman’s background and professional knowledge were more than sufficient for a typical high school basketball team.

Because the interview had been arranged by Cap Lavin, the school had already leaned toward hiring him, though they still needed to go through the motions of interviewing others to satisfy protocol. After the interview, Bellman asked if he could see the basketball team’s practice. The athletic director mentioned that the team was holding summer training that day and invited him to observe.

Bellman headed to the gym and stood on the sidelines to watch the Palo Alto Vikings practice. The Vikings were not exactly a powerhouse in California, and the players’ skill levels were mediocre at best. After watching for twenty minutes, only a white guard named Diepenbrock left any real impression on him. The others were ordinary players who had no hope of securing college basketball scholarships.

As he watched them, Bellman couldn’t help but think of two other people:

One was his former player at Notre Dame, Bill Laimbeer. The guy was a playboy who squandered his talent, wasting his time in college and acting out, before heading to Europe after graduation and only recently returning to the U.S. to join the NBA. He had found a job as a defensive role-player for a terrible team, the Cavaliers, whereas with his talent, he could have been an All-Star with proper effort. No one had been there to roar at him or keep him in check since Bellman left Notre Dame in 1977.

The other was Gan Guoyang. There was a bewildering potential about him—like a bottomless black hole that constantly pulled you in. During the ten days of the summer camp, Bellman felt he improved almost every day. He was like an incredible blank canvas that you could paint on at will. But in truth, he was already vibrant; perhaps the canvas was simply too vast. He wondered what kind of performance he would put on in today’s final 5-on-5 scrimmage.

Deep in thought, Bellman finished his interview trip. The school stated they would carefully consider his application after further review, though the athletic director mentioned privately that if all went well, he could start when the term began next week. After a quick lunch in Palo Alto, Bellman returned to Walnut Creek in the afternoon. The COPA Sports Center was empty, save for the cleaning staff mopping the floor.

He found Allock in the office and asked about the interview. Bellman said it went well and that he would likely get the job. Allock was happy for his former assistant; despite his foul mouth and temper, he was a truly great coach who was being wasted at the summer camp. Moreover, it was the first year of the camp, and Allock needed to protect his reputation and avoid further complaints.

Bellman asked about the final 5-on-5 scrimmage. Allock raised an eyebrow and said, "You’re concerned about A-Gan’s performance, aren't you?"

"Of course. Stop stalling, how many points did he score?"

"Regrettably, A-Gan didn't score a single point in the morning scrimmage."

"Not a single point? Zero? You’re joking, how could that be? That pig could at least trip and score one by accident."

Allock laughed and said, "Because he didn't take a single shot. He did it on purpose; the gap between him and the others was just too large."

"Did it on purpose? That posturing little bastard... so... did his team win the game?"

"Of course they won. He just didn't score, but he grabbed 44 rebounds and blocked 12 shots. In fact, he was holding back; otherwise, the game couldn't have continued—the opponents couldn't even get a shot off. I told you, he doesn't belong here. Everyone else is here to play and have an experience, but this guy is playing for real."

"...Damn it. Who was the last person who could do something like that? Who would you say?"

"The last one? Bill Russell. It’s said that when he practiced with the Celtics, if he played real defense, the team scrimmages couldn't even continue. But I don't think this kid has the same vertical or explosiveness as Russell, but he’s even craftier and better at manipulating the psychology of his teammates and opponents. He’s only sixteen. God, I even felt like I was being controlled by him while refereeing on the sidelines."

Allock’s words sounded incredible, shrouding Gan Guoyang in an even more mysterious and alluring veil. Bellman bit his finger, eager to see exactly what this kid would grow up to become.