Chapter 381: Young Blood on the Move
As the rather dull Celebrity Game wrapped up, it was immediately followed by the next event—the All-Star Rookie Challenge.
“What a chance, man!”
In the World Team locker room, Alexander looked across at Anunoby, excitement written all over his face.
This year, the Kings had only two players selected for the Rookie Game.
As for another rookie who had just been drafted, Donte DiVincenzo, the recent explosion of high-quality domestic talent meant he didn’t even manage to secure a spot.
This year’s Rookie Game could truly be described as star-studded.
The World Team was led by last year’s No. 1 pick, Simmons, and this year’s No. 2 pick, Dončić.
The roster also featured Alexander, Markkanen, Ayton, and Anunoby.
On the other side, the U.S. Team was headlined by the Celtics’ young cornerstone Tatum and one half of Portland’s new backcourt duo, Mitchell, alongside future standouts like Collins, Kuzma, Fox, Trae Young, and Jaren Jackson Jr.
It was fair to say that this year’s Rookie Game would be the most competitive one in years to come.
“What are you getting so worked up about, kid?”
Anunoby gave a faint smile and spoke calmly.
After spending so much time in Sacramento, it wasn’t just his skills that had been sharpened—his mindset had been tempered as well.
Anunoby had never been the type to scramble for the spotlight, and now he was even more steady and grounded.
Alexander, on the other hand, had just joined the team. A lottery pick from the 2018 draft, thrown into the hyper-competitive environment of the Kings, it was only natural that he wanted to prove himself and raise his standing within the team.
“Easy there, Shai,”
Anunoby said lightly.
“Why rush? You’re already the most promising young guy on our roster. Once the team frees up its hands, they’ll definitely focus on developing you. Why be in such a hurry?”
“That’s not the same thing,”
Alexander said anxiously.
“An opportunity you wait for isn’t the same as one you take for yourself.”
Having just joined the team, Alexander was eager to show something—anything—that would make the organization take notice.
“I’m not trying to lecture you,”
Anunoby said. Even though he was only one level above Alexander, this was one of those moments where he had to carry himself like a senior.
“But that way of thinking isn’t right.”
“If you were on a team with a messy system, then sure—you’d have to fight for your place. But our system is already complete. Why scramble for an opportunity that may not even exist?”
Hearing Anunoby’s words, the heat in Alexander’s chest gradually cooled.
“Still… it just feels like such a good chance,”
Alexander muttered.
“What good chance?”
Anunoby replied quietly.
With Dončić and Simmons ahead of you, there’s no way you’re getting that much ball time. And it’s not like the U.S. Team is weak either—Trae Young is right there, watching closely.
Alexander thought this year’s Rookie Game meant exposure and opportunity. In reality, most of those so-called chances were nothing more than illusions—flowers in a mirror, moonlight on water.
They simply weren’t his to take.
“What you need to focus on right now is taking things one step at a time,”
Anunoby said earnestly.
“What the team needs from you is simple: bring the ball across half court steadily, organize the offense, and handle perimeter defense.”
The Kings’ expectations for a point guard were almost old-school—straight out of last century.
With Durant and Butler as primary ball-dominant players, the team didn’t need a big, ball-hogging point guard to share touches.
As Alexander and Anunoby talked, Dončić, sitting not far away, watched them with interest.
Over the past stretch, Dončić had completely won over Atlanta’s notoriously insular fanbase with his magician-like performances.
He had become the first white on-court leader in Atlanta’s history.
After arriving in Atlanta, Dončić had overheard bits and pieces from team executives. From what he gathered, a major reason he’d ended up there was because Sacramento’s “Hyena” had recommended him to Budenholzer during the draft.
“Why would that Hyena help me?”
That question had lingered in Dončić’s mind for a long time.
By all logic, he had no real connection with the Kings’ top decision-maker. Their only interaction had been a distant encounter during a private workout in Sacramento.
Chen Yilun had neither reason nor obligation to help him.
Yet a single word from Chen Yilun had bumped Dončić up two draft spots, significantly increased his salary, and given him far more exposure than he’d expected before the draft.
Those were real, tangible favors.
Because of that, Dončić had developed a quiet sense of curiosity—and goodwill—toward the Kings.
“Shai.”
With that thought, Dončić walked over and leaned in, speaking softly.
“Let’s work together for a bit later.”
“Us?”
Alexander frowned and looked at him.
“How exactly?”
“Like this.”
Seeing that Alexander didn’t outright refuse, Dončić plopped down beside him.
“The starters are definitely going to be me and Simmons. But I don’t like playing with Simmons. He wants the ball all the time and has no outside shot—his style doesn’t fit mine at all. That’s why I came to you.”
“I’ll suggest to the coach that our main minutes overlap. We run a two-man game and rack up some numbers.”
What Dončić was proposing was an unwritten rule in the basketball world.
At their level, with both of them being ball-dominant players, it meant one thing.
As long as Alexander and Dončić were willing, they could essentially monopolize shot attempts during that stretch.
“That’s not a good idea.”
Before Alexander could respond, Anunoby—who had been silent—spoke up.
“Shai just entered the league. Dragging him into that kind of ball-dominant play won’t be good for his long-term development.”
“That’s not what I meant,”
Dončić waved his hand.
“What I mean is, once we’re on the floor, OG can get involved too. It’s an exhibition game—the defensive intensity won’t be high. Whoever has the ball, the others just sprint to open spots.”
“When you get the pass, finish immediately. No wasted time. That way, two guys can put up numbers at once.”
“Oh… that’s what you meant.”
Even Anunoby felt a flicker of temptation.
Dončić’s plan was subtle and wouldn’t affect the flow or outcome of the game. As long as they played fast enough, no one would have a problem with it.
“Bro, what do you think?”
Alexander looked up at Anunoby, his eyes clear—and just a little naïve.
Anunoby hesitated for a moment, then clenched his teeth.
“Alright,”
he said.
“Let’s do it.”
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