Chapter Nine: Vogel's Correction

"Of course I'm serious, my friend." Wu Rui looked at his teammate's astonished face, feeling a bit embarrassed himself.

He knew perfectly well just how outrageous that last shot of his had been, but he forced himself to answer honestly, swallowing his pride.

"Oh my God!" Biyombo exclaimed, staring at Wu Rui's earnest expression. He tilted his head back in disbelief, then quickly gathered himself. "Michael, take another shot!"

Without waiting for a reply, Biyombo ran to the side, picked up the basketball that Wu Rui had just bricked, and handed it back to him. "Take a serious shot this time!"

Biyombo didn't have detailed stats on Wu Rui's physical gifts the way Vogel did, but as a professional player who had witnessed Wu Rui's abilities up close on the court, he knew just how much potential his teammate had.

Biyombo believed that for Wu Rui, only the sky was the limit.

But now, this rookie who ought to be soaring among the clouds was instead being shackled to the ground by the cruel monster that was "shooting," unable to take flight no matter how hard he tried.

This was the last thing Biyombo wanted to see!

Vogel, who had been watching with hopeful anticipation, now wore a grim expression. He had so wanted Wu Rui's shot to trace a perfect rainbow arc through the air and fall cleanly through the net, but reality had slapped him hard in the face.

And not just once.

"Duang!"

Less than a minute after Biyombo handed him the ball, Wu Rui took another shot—another brick, this time even more absurd than the last, missing the rim entirely and clanging hard off the backboard.

"Michael!"

But Biyombo was undeterred. He fetched another ball and passed it to Wu Rui with stubborn resolve.

Wu Rui understood the assignment. He adopted a pose reminiscent of Kobe Bryant, focused all his attention, and put everything he had into the shot.

"Get in the damn hoop!"

He watched the ball intently as it sailed through the air, muttering under his breath, eyes wide with hope.

"Duang!"

But as if responding to Wu Rui's desperate plea, the ball smacked off the back of the rim, shot high into the air, and bounced away.

"That's enough, Bismack. Don't make Michael shoot again."

Seeing Biyombo still unwilling to give up, reaching for another ball, Vogel cut him off sharply and walked over to Wu Rui. "Michael, show me that shooting form you just used."

"Yes, coach..."

Vogel's command left Wu Rui no room to argue. Given the sorry state of his shooting, obedience seemed the wisest course.

Without delay, he struck what he believed was his most perfect shooting form.

"Slap!"

The instant Wu Rui finished posing, Vogel landed a firm smack on his right hand. "Your right hand is way too high. Even Kobe didn't set his release point that high."

"Relax a little. Even a middle schooler doesn't need to use so much force for a shot," Vogel said, giving Wu Rui's arm a squeeze. "Hold that position and shoot."

"Y-yes, sir."

Wu Rui followed Vogel's instructions, miming a shot without a ball.

"Too stiff. You need to use your wrist more, not just your arm," Vogel corrected after watching. "From now on, before every practice, I want you to drill this release motion."

"Extra practice?" Wu Rui blurted out as soon as Vogel finished speaking. "How many sets do I need to do?"

He knew he needed to work on his shooting. Physical gifts alone weren't enough in the NBA—a league full of athletic freaks.

So to Wu Rui, Vogel's guidance couldn't have come at a better time. He figured he'd need to practice at least a hundred shots a day.

"One hundred sets per day," Vogel said, holding up a single finger. "One hundred repetitions per set."

"What!"

"If that's clear, start today."

With that, Vogel shot Biyombo a glance, signaling him to rejoin the team, leaving Wu Rui alone and bewildered on the court.

"One hundred sets a day, a hundred shots per set?" Wu Rui repeated, feeling a bit panicked. He smacked his forehead. "Of all the ways to travel through time, why did I have to end up forgetting how to shoot?"

But complaints aside, a coach's orders had to be carried out. Glancing at his teammates already running tactical drills on the other court, Wu Rui wasted no time. He took up the form Vogel had just corrected, extended his arm, flicked his wrist.

Release.

He took a deep breath, drew his arm back to the starting position, and found, to his surprise, that it actually felt pretty good.

"The NBA never lacks for geniuses, nor for superstars made through sweat. So what if I started late? As long as I work hard, I can build a reliable shot!"

With his mind made up, Wu Rui kept practicing, each repetition bringing him one step closer to his ten thousand shot goal for the day.

Just as he said, the NBA never lacks for prodigies—Joel Embiid being a prime example.

The young center from the basketball desert of Cameroon didn't start playing seriously until high school. Compared to those who grew up with the game in the States, Embiid had picked up the sport shockingly late.

Yet Embiid was a true natural. In just two years, he earned a full basketball scholarship to Kansas, one of the most storied programs in America. As a freshman, he averaged 11.2 points and 8.1 rebounds in the NCAA.

With such extraordinary talent, he was a no-brainer third overall pick in the first round, joining the Philadelphia 76ers and entering the NBA.

However, last season—his rookie year—he didn't play a single game. Only this year does his professional career truly begin.

"Since the start of the season, Joel Embiid has played in two games, averaging 17 points and 4.5 rebounds in just 18.5 minutes per game. That kind of efficiency is elite, even by league standards."

In Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, at the Wachovia Center, ESPN's courtside announcers were giving a detailed introduction to the young center making his comeback this season.

"That's right," his partner agreed. "Coach Brett Brown is using Joel very cautiously, but that only serves to highlight just how valuable he is. Honestly, I'm excited to see what Joel can do with limited minutes!"