Coach Melos spoke up. "With Zhao Dong's current skill set, I think he could try the forward position."
"Forward?"
Edward frowned slightly.
In football, once the play begins, there's immediate close-contact combat at the line of scrimmage. This zone is where the offensive inside forward and the defensive forward clash—the strongest players from each side, going head-to-head in brutal collisions.
Zhao Dong was fast and agile, but his size? That was a concern.
"He's too light for a forward," Edward added. "He could get flattened."
Coach Regan Vince nodded. "For a forward, Zhao Dong's build is too light. His upper body strength still needs work. He's going to need to bulk up significantly."
In the NFL, offensive and defensive forwards can weigh up to 140 or even 160 kilograms. They're essentially human battering rams—giants meant to absorb and deliver punishment. Aside from protective gear, sheer muscle mass is their best armor.
Zhao Dong, however, weighed just 115 kilograms. With his height, he'd need to reach at least 150 kilograms just to keep up—and even then, he'd be at a disadvantage in head-on collisions. Realistically, he'd need to go up to 160 to compete with the best.
The coaches all turned to Zhao Dong, curious to hear what he thought.
Frankly, Zhao Dong wasn't keen on carrying that kind of bulk. He had no real desire to play as a forward. Just as he was about to voice his thoughts, Edward spoke again.
"Zhao Dong has the speed of a top-tier wide receiver," Edward said. "That's a rare asset. I'd rather not see him sacrifice that. With his current weight and speed, once he gets going, he generates enormous impact force."
"Add to that his flexibility," he continued. "He can change direction on a dime. With proper training, his skillset can evolve rapidly."
Coach Melos's eyes lit up. "Exactly! In the NBA, Zhao Dong was known for his explosive drives. But a basketball court is too small—he could never fully accelerate. In the NFL? There's plenty of space for him to sprint."
Another coach chimed in, "If trained well, Zhao Dong could become an excellent wide receiver or running back."
A third coach added, "Tight end might be the best long-term position for him—able to attack and defend."
Several coaches nodded in agreement. Most of them were familiar with Zhao Dong, and many had a good relationship with him.
Edward spoke again, firm in his decision. "For now, I want Zhao Dong to start on defense—either as a linebacker or cornerback. Linebacker seems like the best fit at this stage."
"I agree," another coach said. "Linebackers need speed, agility, and strength. They need to tackle effectively and anticipate the play. Zhao Dong checks all those boxes."
Another added, "With his height and field vision, he can track offensive plays clearly after the snap and react accordingly. Linebacker suits him well."
Everyone nodded again in agreement.
Zhao Dong considered it and agreed. Linebacker was a good fit. It wasn't a forward role, but it allowed him to stay mobile and use his strength strategically.
In football, players are usually divided into forwards and guards, but within those roles are numerous sub-positions shaped by team tactics.
There are typically two defensive formations: 4–3 and 3–4.
The 4–3 formation has four defensive linemen and three linebackers behind them.
The 3–4 formation uses three linemen and four linebackers.
The linebackers serve as the second line of defense, reacting after the linemen engage. They block the opponent's running back or tight end and rush the quarterback when needed—they're responsible for sacks and major stops.
Cornerbacks, on the other hand, defend the wide receivers and play near the sidelines.
With that, Zhao Dong's initial position was decided: linebacker.
Next, Edward handed him a thick New York Jets tactical manual.
"Start familiarizing yourself with this," he said. "You'll need it."
Before heading out, Zhao Dong turned to the group of coaches and said, "Starting tomorrow, I'll begin training at Stony Brook University. I'll need a few trainers and coaches. Who's willing to come?"
A coach grinned. "What's the pay like?"
Zhao Dong laughed. "Generous. Don't worry."
"In that case, I'm in," the coach replied cheerfully.
"Count me in!"
"Me too!"
One by one, the other coaches volunteered with enthusiasm.
—
After the meeting, before Zhao Dong could even leave the Jets' training facility, the management arranged a press conference. The media was already waiting.
At the front row was Yang Yi, who got the first question.
"Zhao Dong, a lot of NFL players and media outlets aren't optimistic about your chances here. Many say you'll end up like Michael Jordan. What's your take?"
Zhao Dong smiled calmly. "That's a fair opinion. Michael Jordan was also an elite athlete with incredible talent. He didn't succeed in baseball. I might meet the same fate."
He paused, then added, "But there's a key difference—Jordan was doing it for fun. I'm not. I'm serious about this. I'm here to commit fully."
"So while we may share athleticism, our mindset is different. And that might just lead to different results."
"I plan to put everything I've got into my NFL career," he continued. "I believe I have the ability and the will to achieve the goals I've set."
"What do you consider a successful career?" Yang Yi asked.
"MVP and a Super Bowl ring," Zhao Dong answered without hesitation.
A collective "Oh!" rippled through the room. Most of the reporters were clearly surprised.
Many of them had doubted him from the start. They were NFL specialists, deeply knowledgeable about the league. And that expertise had made them skeptical, even in the face of Zhao Dong's impressive physical stats.
Why? Because the NFL is a different beast—far more punishing than the NBA. Could Zhao Dong truly adapt?
And more importantly, would he stick it out if things didn't go his way? Would he pull a Jordan and return to basketball at the first sign of trouble?
Another reporter raised a question. "Zhao Dong, it seems some players on the Jets aren't exactly thrilled about your arrival. What do you make of that?"
Zhao Dong smiled as he answered the reporter's question.
"I don't think all the players are against me. The only one who spoke to the media was that idiot, Willis Venis. And let's be honest—I'm not a hundred-dollar bill. Not everyone needs to like me."
The room chuckled, but another reporter quickly followed up with a more serious question.
"What's your view on the off-field violence in the NFL and the racial discrimination that seems so pervasive in the league?"
Zhao Dong's tone turned firm, though he kept his smile.
"I hate racial discrimination. I'm aware the NFL has far more of it than the NBA. I'll stand firmly against it. As for violence off the field, I oppose that too. I'm a gentleman."
"A gentleman in Jets green?" the reporter teased.
Zhao Dong chuckled. "That's right. A Jets gentleman."
—
By the time Zhao Dong returned home, it was just before 1 p.m.
His wife, Lindsay, had been working from home for the past three years to take care of their four children. When she saw him walk through the door, she greeted him with concern.
"How did it go, honey?"
"Not bad." Zhao Dong smiled, tossing his bag aside. "The coaching staff wants me to play linebacker. No need to change my weight, just need to sharpen my skills."
Lindsay let out a long sigh. She still wasn't thrilled about him diving into such a dangerous sport.
"I had a new set of bodyguards screened. They're all top-tier, trained in close combat," she said. "Promise me you'll take them with you during training."
She had read up extensively on the NFL—internal scuffles, training injuries, even deaths weren't unheard of. Better to be safe than sorry.
—
That same afternoon, media outlets across the country exploded with news of Zhao Dong's arrival at the Jets. His physical test results and every detail of his transition from basketball to football were published online. The coverage was so overwhelming, it even pushed the NBA Draft to the sidelines.
"Zhao Dong Joins NFL: Most Physically Gifted Prospect in League History Still Has His Eyes Set on MVP and the Super Bowl." — The New York Times
"Zhao Dong Aims for the Super Bowl!" — New York Sports Daily
New York's sports media embraced Zhao Dong with open arms, even more enthusiastically than when he played for the Knicks. After all, the NFL was America's top professional sports league, with a fan base and media attention that dwarfed even the NBA.
In contrast, media outlets in other cities remained skeptical.
Many still predicted Zhao Dong would return to the NBA before long. His athletic prowess was no secret—his test results didn't impress them much. The real question was: could he survive in football?
NFL legend Lawrence Taylor gave his opinion during an interview with New York TV—a station owned by James Dolan, who had sold the Knicks to fund his media ventures.
"Basketball," Taylor sneered, "is a sport for women. Football is a sport for real men. And Chinese people? They don't belong in football. There's never been a Chinese player in this league for a reason."
He smirked. "I'll bet that kid folds like a cheap tent. He'll be crying before the season starts."
Zhao Dong watched the interview while eating dinner with his family. He couldn't help but laugh.
"Pretty sure his company just went bankrupt," he said casually.
Lindsay, directing their four kids at the dinner table, glanced at the screen and smirked. "Bankrupt, huh? Then maybe we should send Mike Tyson to pay him a visit. Have him cheer for you instead."
"Be Dad's little brother!" their fourth child, Rongxing, shouted as he waved his chopsticks excitedly.
"Yeah!" the other three echoed.
Zhao Dong laughed heartily. "Nah, no need to reward him. I'm not giving a racist the honor of being my little brother."
Mike Tyson had once clashed with Zhao Dong, but later joined his circle. Now, Tyson was thriving—earning tens of millions a year thanks to his fame and Zhao Dong's support. There was no chance he'd offer that same favor to someone like Lawrence Taylor. Besides, he hadn't punched Taylor in the head yet.
—
That evening, Zhao Dong watched the 2003 NBA Draft from home.
The media had long predicted that LeBron James, a once-in-a-generation talent, would be the No. 1 overall pick—and unsurprisingly, they were right.
—
The next morning, Zhao Dong left early for Stony Brook University to begin his official football training.
He focused heavily on linebacker-specific drills: 40-yard sprints, various shuttle runs, directional change exercises, blocking techniques, and tackling mechanics.
In his spare time, he also trained in passing and receiving.
Though the quarterback wasn't his current role, he was intrigued by the position. It was the soul of the team—the most watched, most impactful role on the field.
If he ever transitioned into that role, he'd become a super-heavy quarterback, a literal tank who could bulldoze defenses on his own.
After all, in football, most positions serve the team—but a quarterback leads it. One well-placed throw could turn the tide of a game.
—
Time flew by in the rhythm of training. Day by day, Zhao Dong's skills steadily improved.
Several of his NBA friends dropped by to watch. Charles Oakley and Larry Johnson, both living in New York, came by so often they practically became part of the coaching staff.
—
On July 14, Zhao Dong wrapped up the day's training.
The following day, all NFL teams would begin full-staff training camp ahead of the new season. The preseason games would kick off in August.
On the ride home, Zhao Dong opened his system interface.
---
Football Skill Progress Report
Skill Proficiency:
Tactical Understanding – Lv.80
Receiving – Lv.80
Long Pass – Lv.42 (+2)
Mid Pass – Lv.63 (+3)
Short Pass – Lv.80 (+5)
Evasion – Lv.71 (+1)
Vision & Awareness – Lv.80
Ball Protection – Lv.80
Rushing – Lv.80
Power Through Tackles – Lv.70
Pass Blocking – Lv.70
Deception Techniques – Lv.70
Route Running – Lv.80
Run Interceptions – Lv.78
Pass Interceptions – Lv.80
Impact Tackles – Lv.80
Kick Returns – Lv.73
Position Proficiency:
Linebacker (Defense): Lv.73
---
After just half a month of training, his long pass skill improved by 2 levels, mid pass by 3 levels, short pass by 5 levels, and evasion by 1 level.
Zhao Dong smiled as he reviewed the stats. Progress. He was on the right track.
Zhao Dong's recent training had brought noticeable improvements. Both his running ball interception and pass interception skills had increased by 3 levels, while his return ability also improved by 3 levels.
Curious, he asked, "System, how is my linebacker level of 73 evaluated? What skills contribute to that score?"
The system responded promptly,
**"The comprehensive evaluation consists of:
Physical Fitness: 10%
Tactical Literacy: 10%
Running Interception: 10%
Passing Interception: 10%
Collision Interception: 10%
Actual Combat Performance: 50%"**
"Actual combat performance?" Zhao Dong muttered. Then he nodded. "Makes sense."
If only the first five categories were counted, his linebacker level wouldn't be so low. But with actual combat making up half the score, his current lack of on-field NFL experience dragged the number down significantly.
This was completely different from the NBA system, which didn't factor in live-game performance to this extent.
---
July 15th, early morning.
Outside the New York Jets' training base, a swarm of reporters had already gathered, cameras in hand, ready to cover the team's full-staff training.
By 8:30 a.m., players were in the locker room changing into gear.
Compared to the NBA, the NFL locker room was a different beast—spacious, chaotic, and filled with testosterone. The NBA had 15-man rosters. The NFL? 53 players. That scale created an entirely different ecosystem.
The team was split into three units: offense, defense, and special teams, each with 11 starting positions. The rest were substitutes, many of whom played multiple roles.
Only three spots in special teams—returner, punter, and kicker—couldn't be filled part-time due to their technical demands.
Despite the larger roster, building harmony wasn't any easier. NBA locker rooms often struggled with chemistry despite being smaller. In the NFL, with its size, egos, and physical aggression, it was like managing a small society.
Racial cliques formed—whites with whites, blacks with blacks.
Starters and substitutes formed their own factions.
Offense and defense had their own divisions.
Some players built mini-teams around themselves.
These alliances overlapped and tangled, creating a locker room map more complex than any NFL playbook.
---
Among them, Willis Venis, the Jets' starting defensive tackle, was a dominant figure. Nicknamed "The Three-Eyed Monster", he had a fearsome reputation both on and off the field.
Venis was part of the white faction, a core figure in his own mini-team within the defensive squad. His strength was first-class, and he had serious issues—racism, a violent temper, and a love of confrontation. He often initiated fights during practice and even off the field.
Yet, even someone like him wasn't universally respected. The defensive unit had its own power struggle, with the other camp centered around Chris McGill, the starting nose tackle.
All in all, the 53-man Jets roster had split into over a dozen small factions. It was survival of the fittest—both physically and politically.
---
"That guy's arriving soon. Let's give him a warm welcome," Venis sneered, glancing around the locker room.
"Hell yeah, let's mess him up!" someone shouted.
"Make him clean the toilets!" another laughed.
But only two black players echoed Venis. The rest were silent. Some shot him annoyed glances. A few even looked at him with thinly veiled contempt.
Venis scowled. He was part of four overlapping cliques—yet not a single core member of his own group backed his idea. That stung.
And it said a lot about Zhao Dong's growing influence.
"You think we're stupid?" said Mager, the starting center, with a scoff. "That guy could knock you out with a flick of his finger."
Mager, nicknamed "Thor," was known for his booming voice and volcanic temper. His shouts felt like thunder crashing through the room.
"You?"
Venis stood up slowly. All 150 kilograms of him. His hulking frame radiated aggression like a lion ready to pounce.
"Zhao Dong's been funding this team for years," Mager went on. "You think this new locker room just popped up? He paid for it. The stool under your ass? Also his."
Weilin Paul, the team's starting quarterback, chimed in next. His eyes locked onto Venis. "You'd better think twice. Zhao Dong rolls with trained bodyguards now. If you start something and get wrecked, don't drag the rest of us into your stupidity."
"Bodyguards? In the locker room?" Venis barked, fists clenched. "What kind of man needs that? Soft."
"He's the heavyweight world champion, genius," Paul replied with a smirk.
"Boxing is boxing. This is football," Venis growled. "One punch and I'll drop him."
He raised his massive fist like a boulder.
"You thinking of jumping him in the locker room? Has he even done anything to you?" Mager snapped. "You're delusional, man."
Venis stomped forward.
"Wanna go?!"
"Anytime!" Mager roared back, springing to his feet.
In seconds, players gathered, forming two sides.
Testosterone surged. In this world of violent athletes, fighting was normal—a release valve for men bred to collide. Even a stare could spark a brawl. And without a game today? A fight was the game.
Others stood back, either to watch or give space.
No coach was present.
No one tried to stop it.
Then—footsteps echoed from the hallway.
The locker room door swung open.
In stepped Zhao Dong, followed by his agent wells, and over a dozen professional bodyguards.
While they weren't quite as massive as NFL linemen, their presence alone was enough to shift the atmosphere.
Moments later, another wave of footsteps followed—the Jets' coaching staff and management had arrived.
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