Chapter 258: New Situation (1)
The season opener tipped off at Chesapeake Energy Arena in Oklahoma City.
Durant had just stepped onto the court for warm-ups when Westbrook strolled over.
“You guys are done for tonight!”
Westbrook flashed his trademark big-kid grin.
“We’re scary strong this year. Better watch yourself.”
Durant laughed at Westbrook’s harmless trash talk and shot back,
“Enjoy talking tough while you can. When we meet in the playoffs and I beat you down, don’t go whining that I bullied you.”
The two traded jabs, laughing as they wrapped up their pregame banter.
On the Thunder’s side, Anthony glanced at the cheerful Durant and Westbrook but stayed silent, continuing his shooting routine.
Known around the league as the “the human jump-shot maestro,” Anthony’s form always looked fast, powerful, and steady—thanks largely to its unique mechanics.
When catching and shooting, Anthony barely bent his knees or hips, relying instead on his powerful thighs for support.
That’s why his jumper always looked compact and explosive.
And unlike most shooters who fully extend their arms, Anthony released the ball with a partially bent arm, maximizing his release speed.
To fans, it was wild that Anthony—a heavy 3—could get his shot off faster than many guards.
But right now, Anthony’s mind wasn’t on shooting.
Watching Durant and Westbrook get along so well, he couldn’t help feeling a little sour.
Ever since that offseason trade, he’d been silently holding a grudge.
Others got traded for a pile of rookies and first-round picks.
He? Two irrelevant players and a second-rounder.
Wasn’t that just a slap in the face?
Did they think he had no competitive value left?
Sure, he was in his thirties and declining, but not worth even a single first-round pick?
So now Anthony was itching to prove himself.
Nearby, Griffin stood off to the side in his blue jersey, zoning out.
Even though West had given him a heads-up before the trade,
the moment it became official still felt surreal.
It was his first time switching teams since entering the league.
After all these years, he suddenly felt like a transfer student again.
Fortunately, the team’s leader was Westbrook—big lovable Westbrook—so he didn’t feel too out of place.
“Alright guys! What’s the plan for tonight?”
When practice wrapped up, Westbrook gathered everyone together.
The moment he finished speaking, every pair of eyes turned to Coach Billy Donovan standing in the middle.
Feeling the weight of their attention, Donovan took a deep breath.
Today’s game was crucial for the Thunder’s season trajectory.
If they could take down the defending champions on opening night, everything else would flow better afterward.
A win like that would boost chemistry and strengthen the locker room immediately.
So Donovan was locked in—max focus.
“Here’s how we’re playing this.”
He quickly sketched a play on the board.
“Adams sets a screen for Westbrook first. Sabonis and Anthony stretch the floor on the perimeter. Anthony, you stay ready outside—if Westbrook gets shut down, you take over and go iso immediately.”
He swallowed nervously.
“Melo, when you’re isolating, don’t get carried away shooting threes. Go to your sweet spots. Butler’s not someone you want to mess around with!”
Anthony gave Donovan a grateful look and nodded hard.
His scoring comfort zone was a step inside the three-point line—sometimes right on the line.
Most coaches, though, preferred forcing him into the threes he didn’t want rather than letting him shoot from where he felt best.
So Donovan giving him the green light to work from his preferred spots sparked a surge of loyalty in Anthony—almost a die-for-my-coach feeling.
...
On the other side of the court, things were much more relaxed.
Malone chewed on a toothpick.
“Alright, who wants it?”
“Me!”
Durant spoke up before anyone else.
“Going up against my old team and my little brother today—this one’s mine. If not, my second brother’s gonna say I only win because of my teammates.”
The Kings’ lineup burst into stifled laughter.
“Got it, got it,”
Butler said, holding back a laugh.
“I’m not fighting you for it. How do you wanna play it?”
Listening to the commotion, Malone showed a fond, amused smile.
“Alright then, Durant takes it. Jokić, go set a screen at the top of the key and give Durant an iso chance. Butler and Booker stretch the floor, Richardson be ready to cut anytime.”
“Got it!”
All the Kings players let out a low roar in response.
...
“Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome to Chesapeake Energy Arena! Are you ready for the new season?!”
The Thunder’s home DJ roared, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.
As soon as he finished, the arena erupted with thunderous cheers.
Oklahoma City might be a small city, but its fan loyalty was among the highest in the league.
Many families came out together just to support their home team.
At tip-off, Adams beat Jokić and got the ball to Westbrook to push up the court.
Westbrook crossed half-court with Josh Richardson picking him up.
As the newly acquired starting point guard, Richardson braced himself, determined to prove he belonged.
But with one explosive burst, Westbrook blew past him effortlessly.
“Help! Help!”
Richardson shouted.
Hearing him, Jokić slid over from outside the paint and stepped into the lane to cut off Westbrook’s drive.
But Westbrook didn’t hesitate—he stopped just outside the paint and floated in a clean jumper.
Westbrook often got accused of being reckless, but most of the time his decision-making was perfectly reasonable.
It was only in certain key moments that his instincts for hero-ball kicked in, creating the impression that he played irrationally.
In truth, his efficiency over the past two seasons had been elite.
Calling him a reckless player was mostly an old stereotype.
Seeing Westbrook score so easily, Durant called out before Malone could even react.
“Nikola! Don’t give him that kind of space! Step up and bother him!”
Jokić nodded awkwardly.
“Got it. Still getting used to the new season. Don’t worry—he’s not scoring that easily again!”
Durant and Jokić didn’t bother lowering their voices.
Hearing their exchange, Westbrook couldn’t help chuckling.
So bro really wants this win.
Back in Oklahoma City, Durant had always been all action, no talk—quiet, focused, never vocal.
That was one of the reasons Donovan had once wanted to elevate Westbrook and lower Durant’s team standing—they didn’t think Durant had that leader aura.
But now?
Looks like Sacramento had changed him.
He was starting to look like a real leader.
...
The Kings went into their next possession.
Richardson brought the ball across half-court and saw Durant calling for it on the wing, so he passed it over without hesitation.
Durant caught the ball and faced Domantas Sabonis.
Malone’s words echoed in his mind:
“Sabonis plays a lot like his dad—he’s got decent range and can pass from the high post, but his footwork isn’t fast. If you get an iso, try using speed to go straight at him.”
Alright then… let’s try it.
Durant studied Sabonis and immediately made up his mind.
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