Chapter 39 - Choosing Him Is Like Picking a Ready-Made All-Star: Barkley's Cursed Praise
Ohio State's Possession
Oden set up in the low post again, calling for the ball.
The Buckeyes' game plan clearly revolved around getting him touches inside. But this time, Conley didn't even look his way.
Not because he didn't want to. He simply couldn't.
Texas had made a clear decision tonight—double-team Oden before he could even catch the ball. Their off-ball defense looked like some wild Human Centipede formation, and it had Oden completely bottled up.
Conley improvised. He used a screen from Harris and drove into the paint, stopping around the free-throw line. Just then, Daequan Cook slipped into the corner off a down screen, caught the pass in rhythm—
"Swish!"
Pure stroke. Cook was a sniper, and you don't give a shooter like that a clean look.
7–4. Buckeyes lead.
Texas Back on Offense
This time, Chen Yan played the decoy, drawing attention to create space for Durant.
Durant took the handoff at the top, crossed over, changed direction, and exploded past power forward Harris with one step.
He pulled up for a soft floater right outside the restricted area...
In his mind, it was two easy points.
Reality hit harder.
"Bang!"
Oden sent Durant's shot flying with a thunderous volleyball-style block, palm wide open like a fly swatter. That was his specialty—3.3 blocks per game this season. Oden didn't just protect the paint. He owned it.
Having been clowned by Chen Yan twice already, and frustrated from not getting touches, Oden was fired up now.
Durant? Wrong place, wrong time. That block was personal.
The ball flew all the way back to beyond the three-point line, where Cook scooped it up and instantly fired it to Conley, already sprinting past midcourt.
Fast break!
Conley took off like a blur, eyes locked on the rim.
Only one defender made it back—Chen Yan.
But Chen wasn't backing down. He mirrored Conley stride for stride, shadowing him on the wing.
Feeling the pressure, Conley leaned into Chen just before taking off, hoping to draw contact. Best case? A 2+1. Worst case? Two at the line.
The play was drawn perfectly.
Too bad Chen Yan hadn't read the script.
"Snap!"
Clean. Chen's hand darted in and stripped the ball mid-step like a veteran point guard reading the moment.
"Whoa! STRAIGHT-UP rip! One-on-one, he just took it clean!" Zhang Weiping roared in the studio.
"Man, the timing, the hand speed—that was surgical!" Yu Jia added.
Before the analysts could finish their praise, Chen was already sprinting the other way with the ball.
Transition Offense: 5-on-4 Advantage!
Chen crossed half court and kicked it ahead to DJ Augustin in the corner.
Augustin didn't hesitate—one quick swing pass to Durant on the wing.
Durant took a strong first step, and immediately drew Oden's attention. The big man locked eyes with him, remembering the monster block just moments ago.
Oden wanted that feeling again. Another swat. Another statement.
But Durant had other plans.
He lobbed it high into the air—
Oden spun around, realizing it wasn't a shot—it was an alley-oop.
Too late.
Chen Yan had already taken off.
"BOOM!!"
Two hands. Full extension. Thunderous finish.
The gym exploded.
Oden? He didn't even jump. He just stepped aside and gave Chen a clear runway. After getting duped twice earlier, he was done playing the fool. No way he was letting himself get posterized now.
After all, he was the projected No. 1 pick. Gotta save some face.
"My God!"
"Chen Yan just detonated the rim! From a steal to a lob in under ten seconds!"
"Two full-speed sprints, and he still had the bounce to throw down like that? Is he even human?"
Fans in the stands lost their minds. Even fans watching at home were up off their couches, yelling at their TVs.
Many fans back home were fired up. They had followed Chen Yan for a while, but most only knew him through highlight clips and written features. Tonight was their first time watching him live—and he wasted no time making a statement in just the opening minutes.
Some viewers were seeing Chen Yan for the first time and couldn't understand why CCTV5 would broadcast a U.S. college game just for him. But after watching a few possessions, they understood perfectly.
Chen Yan was the new hope for China's men's basketball backcourt.
The broadcast crew knew what they were doing too—cutting to a tight close-up of Taylor Swift in the crowd. She was on her feet, screaming and cheering alongside the University of Texas fans.
Yu Jia chuckled in the studio. "That's Taylor Swift—up-and-coming country music star and, well, someone very close to Chen Yan."
He chose his words carefully—it was national TV after all—but fans got the message loud and clear.
Chen Yan spotted Taylor in the front row, cheering in his jersey—the one he gave her in the locker room before the game.
Weren't we supposed to return that tonight? he thought. Guess that's off the table now.
Still, he quickly shook the thought away. There was a game to win.
Back on the court, Ohio State ran a high pick-and-roll with Conley and Oden. After a slick bounce pass, Conley fed Oden right in stride. The chemistry between them was elite. Oden caught the ball clean and deep in the paint.
But Texas wasn't giving him anything easy.
DJ Augustin and Dexter Pittman immediately collapsed on him with a tight double team just outside the restricted area. Oden couldn't even pivot.
Didn't matter.
He switched the ball to his left and tossed up a smooth hook shot off the glass—bucket.
With his right wrist still not fully healed, Oden had developed an almost ambidextrous finishing touch. His left hand was just as deadly now—and that was scary.
In the next few possessions, both sides traded baskets like seasoned pros.
Ohio State kept feeding Conley and Oden on alternating drives, slicing through the lane.
Texas answered by putting the ball in Chen Yan's hands. He responded with back-to-back mid-range jumpers—pure.
It wasn't about showing off. His teammates trusted him, and he had to reward that trust by getting buckets.
Three and a half minutes in, the scoreboard read 13–10.
Both teams were locked in from the jump—rare for a championship game under this kind of pressure. It was clear: both sides came ready.
Over at the TNT broadcast booth, Charles Barkley, Kenny Smith, and guest analyst Reggie Miller were calling the action.
"Chen Yan just keeps delivering," Reggie said, eyes locked on the monitor. "Eight of Texas' first ten points—and six straight right there."
Kenny nodded. "A lot of guys have the skills and the athleticism, but not many can score in bursts like that. Chen's got that killer scoring instinct."
Even Barkley chimed in with praise. "Yeah, when this kid heats up, he's a walking microwave! I've seen him flip the switch too many times during March Madness."
He leaned forward with a grin. "And you know why his draft stock is rising so fast? He's projected top five now. Most of these other guys—you gotta coach 'em up, teach 'em the game. But with Chen? Pick him and you're getting a ready-made All-Star. Just plug and play."
But right as Barkley finished his line—
Clang!
A clean brick echoed through the arena. Chen Yan's lob jumper out of the pick-and-roll rattled off the rim.
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