On the 23rd, at Harrisburg Capital Stadium:
As the most underappreciated BOSS in Pennsylvania history looked out over the packed stands of Lower Merion fans...
The Ridley High School players could only wish for a moment of chill.
After enduring the "first sewer experience," the ever-seasoned Kobe smiled at Su Feng before tip-off and asked,
"Su, how are we playing it this time?"
Su Feng laughed and replied, "Just like always—play the game."
Kobe Bryant nodded. "Then bring the heat."
Su Feng understood what Kobe meant: You went too hard last time—give me two more assists this game.
Look to the sky!
Was Kobe really evolving into a full-blown sprinter?
"Alright," Su Feng answered dutifully.
After warmups, both teams took to the court.
Of note, on Ridley High's side, Kenny—the short, relentless defender who had previously challenged Su Feng in the "Half-Beast King Realm" of the divisional league—was also starting.
No one quite knew who Ridley was assigning him to cover tonight.
In the opening jump ball, amid roaring fans, Kobe outleapt Larson, who despite being taller, was forever doomed by gravity to be just another background prop.
As Lower Merion set up their offense, Su Feng realized it was Kobe whom Ridley had tasked Kenny with defending.
To be fair, Kenny's offensive contribution was practically nil—but on defense, he was tenacious.
Ridley's coach, Fernandez, hadn't anticipated Kobe's evolving game.
After all, despite Kobe's triple-double in the quarterfinals, one game hardly defines a whole season.
And Fernandez couldn't risk another game clouded in doubt after that.
So tonight, his plan was: Kenny on Kobe.
Because, in Fernandez's eyes, Su Feng's wild shooting couldn't really be defended by anyone anyway.
After a quick glance exchanged with Kobe, Su Feng faked baseline, then flared up to the top of the arc.
Pick-and-roll technician David Rasman established position early, screening Ridley's small forward Williamson solidly.
Caught in indecision, Williamson had no choice but to back off.
CLANK!
Su Feng's wide-open three bounced off the rim.
But Kobe, primed and ready, soared up, extended those long arms, snagged the rebound with one hand, and secured the offensive board.
As he prepared for a putback at the rim, Kobe suddenly had a strange feeling...
Had Su Feng just upgraded his "sewer stat-padding protocol"?
So, Kobe quickly kicked the ball back out to the perimeter!
Wait, what?
Seeing the look of resolve in Kobe's eyes, Su Feng knew exactly what he meant—Shoot it. Now.
At this point, what could Su Feng do but oblige?
Classic Kobe.
Leg kick, mid-air hang, flick of the wrist!
Su Feng pulled the trigger again—
CLANK!
Su Feng: "..."
Cursed, huh?
Wide open and still a brick?
Do I really need to shoot while falling backward for it to drop?
Su Feng was losing it.
Sure, that metallic "clang" had a musical charm in his head, but still...
Sigh.
"So this is the legendary pain and pleasure?" Su Feng thought, clearly frustrated.
Back on defense, after missing two uncontested threes, Su Feng began to retreat—when suddenly...
Here comes the hotshot!
Blazing in like a jet plane.
Kobe Bryant—the brightest star in the night sky of Capital Stadium!
(Wait... Can you even see stars in an indoor arena?)
First, he altered the ball's trajectory midair with his fingertips. Then, after landing, he launched again!
What does talent explosion look like?
This is a talent explosion!
And just as everyone assumed Kobe would finally punish Ridley's rim this time...
He kicked it back out again!
That's right.
Years later, when ESPN aired the clip of Kobe dishing it out to Su Feng twice in a row, who knows how many teared up in front of their TVs?
Kobe really believed in Su Feng.
His eyes said it all: Let it fly.
And so, Su Feng summoned his imaginary 107mm rocket launcher and, with conviction, launched his third three-pointer of the game.
SWISH!
Got it!
After the shot, he and Kobe locked eyes for a long moment. Then came the silent thumbs up from Bryant—returned instantly with a nod of respect from Su Feng.
Meanwhile, on the Ridley bench, after Su Feng scored, the other four players glared at center Larson.
Didn't matter if Larson said things like "It's not my job to box out,"
"Kobe is inhuman,"
"You try doing it, then"—
To the rest of Ridley High, Larson had officially entered Benzema territory.
Thankfully, Larson—being French—had a very chill demeanor.
So he decided not to sweat the blame game.
Let the world throw punches, I'll smile back at it.
On the court, the game rolled on. If Lower Merion was a charging bull, then their identity had to be… defense.
And so...
The most overlooked BOSS in Ridley's history faded quietly from the spotlight—just as quietly as he entered—without even a cheer left behind.
"Let's congratulate Lower Merion! They're going to the final!"
As the fourth-quarter clock hit zero, the arena erupted with the live DJ's deep booming voice.
Final score: 70–47.
Lower Merion had punched their ticket to the Pennsylvania State Championship!
Their next opponent? Eric Catholic High, the team that had already beaten them earlier in the league.
Final stats:
Su Feng: 10/25 FG, 2/7 3PT, 2/2 FT, 24 pts, 6 reb, 2 ast, 2 blk, 4 stlKobe: 8/14 FG, 1/3 3PT, 4/6 FT, 20 pts, 21 reb, 9 ast, 4 blk, 3 stl
Not bad at all.
It's said that after the game, someone was stared down by Kobe for a full hour and twenty-one minutes.
Kobe didn't budge—until that "someone" finally confessed, promised to make up for it with a mountain of sandwiches back in Philly, and vowed to do better.
"If you chase stats too hard, you'll just mess everything up."
Postgame, Su Feng reflected on it all quite seriously.
As a shooter, Su Feng knew he had to keep a calm mind.
But it wasn't easy. Despite training like a madman, he simply hadn't played enough games.
So naturally, his consistency wavered.
Still, in this era ruled by HC regulations, no one really cared about field goal percentage anyway.
Su Feng of his past life didn't either—as long as you could drop 20+ points per game, who was counting?
And while Lower Merion was busy punching its ticket to the Pennsylvania High School Basketball State Final...
—cut to—
New York City. Fifth Avenue. The Olympic Tower. NBA headquarters.
David Stern sat back, savoring the report on Su Feng from a scout named Speed.
One line stood out, etched in Stern's mind:
"Su Feng's game is full of surprises. His shooting feels like magic. Every time the ball's in his hands, you want to see what happens next."
Somehow, reading those words gave Stern a boost—his back didn't ache anymore, and his knees felt just fine.
Flipping through the photos of Su Feng included in the report, Stern kept nodding.
The kid even kind of looks like me...
"David, should we notify the Chinese media next?" asked Mark, standing nearby.
"Not just yet," Stern replied, voice heavy with implication.
"I see," said Mark, no stranger to Stern's legendary PR tactics.
This time, Stern clearly had something big planned.
Because if you're wondering who the real kingmaker of the league is...
That's Stern. No question.
Just like people were busy doubting Jordan these days.
But within the league office, only Stern believed—the real Michael Jordan will be back.
Gazing through the window at the brooding New York sky, Stern murmured:
"It's time. Things need to be made clear."