Chapter Fifty-Nine: Don't Waste Your Talent

"Honestly, you shouldn't be interviewing me." Ibaka faced the camera without hiding his displeasure. "There's someone else who helped the team win today, and that's the person you should be talking to."

"Hey, man, lighten up. You guys are the winners tonight, you should be a little happier," the reporter said, scratching his head, still a bit bewildered by Ibaka’s reprimand. "After all, you just ended a two-game losing streak on your home court."

"No, no, no. Victory is certainly something to be happy about, but I’m really dissatisfied with the person you chose to interview," Ibaka’s attitude softened a bit. "Michael is the key to the team’s win. Without him, we couldn’t have come back at home!"

"So, you mean we should interview Michael Wu?"

"Absolutely. Young man, Michael is the one who deserves to stand here today, not me!"

Ibaka spoke with righteous indignation, and it was the first time the sideline reporter encountered such a situation. A player, unhappy about being interviewed, because he felt it should be his teammate instead—what a strange turn of events!

But no matter how much Ibaka stood up for Wu Rui, the Magic’s second-round rookie had already returned to the locker room. Even if the reporters wanted to interview him, they couldn’t.

Helpless, Ibaka had to accept the interview, but nearly every question ended up, intentionally or otherwise, turning the conversation toward Wu Rui. The tough interior player made no secret of his affection for the rookie.

"So, Serge, one last question." Ibaka was no stranger to big moments; the interview went smoothly and was nearing its end. "You ended your home losing streak, but the next game is right here as well. You'll be facing the hottest team in the league right now—"

"And the current front-runner for MVP, Russell Westbrook! With that in mind, do you think your team needs to make any changes defensively?"

"Russell’s been outstanding this season. Of course, he’s always outstanding every season," Ibaka said, shrugging. "For him, defense doesn’t mean much. But we have players like him on our team as well—maybe everyone can look forward to what might happen then."

"That should be very interesting!"

Ibaka exchanged a few pleasantries, then wrapped up the interview and headed back to the locker room. Where once the starting players would have gathered, now only Wu Rui sat alone, looking a bit isolated.

"Michael, why are you the only one here?" Ibaka called out as he headed toward the showers, eager to wash off the sweat.

"Coach Frank let everyone go early. A win gave them the right to head home ahead of time," Wu Rui replied, not turning around, sounding somewhat listless. "November 11th—Singles' Day. God, I’m actually the only one on the team celebrating it!"

"Singles’ Day? What’s that?" Ibaka was curious, hearing Wu Rui’s dejected complaint. "A holiday made up of sticks? How come I’ve never heard of it?"

"Serge, of course you haven’t. It’s a holiday that originated in China and hasn’t gone global yet."

Singles’ Day didn’t come from abroad, but from China, so it was understandable that Ibaka had never heard of it. Wu Rui, with nothing else to do, took the chance to explain the concept to the big man.

"Oh, sounds kind of like America’s Singles Day," Ibaka mused after hearing Wu Rui’s explanation. "You know, we have similar days in the States, except on those days most couples break up instead of a bunch of guys being single."

"Enough, Serge, my friend, don’t rub it in!" Wu Rui rolled his eyes at Ibaka’s half-joking remark.

Seeing Wu Rui’s reaction, Ibaka paused, as if he remembered something, and smiled as he moved closer. "Michael, maybe you don’t have a girlfriend?"

"Don’t tell me that’s true—you’re an NBA player, a basketball star!"

Ibaka looked Wu Rui up and down. Though Wu Rui’s looks were ordinary by Ibaka’s standards, from an Asian perspective, he was quite handsome—a bright, attractive young man.

"Come on, Serge, I’m not like you, naturally popular among the ladies," Wu Rui stepped back with a wry smile, glancing at Ibaka.

Ibaka lowered his head and glanced at a certain part of himself, then gave a playful, teasing look. "Michael, don’t think I don’t know—you’re not that much worse off than me!"

"Those women who judge by appearances will only miss out on a genius in practice!" The more Ibaka spoke, the broader his smile became. "Even if that genius has never had any practice."

"Right, Michael, tonight we had a big win, you were the hero of the comeback—we should celebrate properly!" Ibaka winked at Wu Rui. "Orlando’s nights are full of color."

Wu Rui understood Ibaka’s intention and shook his head. "Serge, thanks for the offer, but I’d rather spend the time training."

"Of course, of course—it’s just training in a different place, and it’s great for technique!" Ibaka became even more enthusiastic. "So, how about it? Come with me? I know some places with excellent service!"

As he spoke, Ibaka’s gaze swept over Wu Rui, clicking his tongue. "I don’t want to see your talent go to waste."

"Forget it—I won’t take my talent there."

Wu Rui shuddered under Ibaka’s gaze, quickly packed up his things, and hurried out of Amway Arena.

Walking through the streets of Orlando at night, Wu Rui instinctively hunched his shoulders. Truth be told, it was a bit cold.

Looking at the bustling traffic, Wu Rui felt no hint of Singles’ Day in the air. Perhaps it was just a cultural difference. When Singles’ Day goes global, someday, on this date, he wouldn’t be the only lonely figure on the street.

Of course, speaking of loneliness, the NBA has its share of solitary players—like Russell Westbrook, holding down Oklahoma City this season.

On China’s Singles’ Day, Westbrook put up a near triple-double: 29 points, 9 rebounds, 12 assists. If Adams had boxed out a bit sooner, the triple-double would’ve been locked in. Unfortunately, despite that near triple-double, the Thunder still couldn’t secure a win.

No triple-double, no victory—Westbrook was anything but pleased in his post-game interview.