As expected, the moment the referee confirmed both sides' positions and blew the whistle, Snoopy shot up into the air like lightning, snap!
He slapped the ball cleanly forward into the backcourt, and in the next instant, over twenty thousand fans at the Staples Center witnessed one of the most electrifying sprints in NCAA history.
Westbrook and Derrick Rose exploded off the mark simultaneously. The two blurs of motion tore across the court, but in the end, Westbrook's straight-line acceleration won out by half a step. He reached the ball first, barreled toward the rim, and drew a foul from behind as Derrick Rose wrapped him up to stop the play.
"Joey Dorsey might have the height and wingspan advantage," Earl Johnson commented from the booth, "but when it comes to vertical burst, he's clearly losing ground."
"According to Sports Illustrated," Kenny Smith added, "Snoopy's grown nearly eighteen centimeters in just over a month. That kind of rapid growth definitely throws off body coordination, but it also explains why he shot up the draft projection boards, from late second round to early second, maybe even late first."
"I'm more curious," Charles Barkley interjected, frowning, "how did he know Roberts was going to pass? When Roberts went up, Snoopy didn't even contest. He turned his body and focused on Dorsey instead. No normal defender does that."
The broadcast team replayed the footage in slow motion.
Finally, everyone saw it. When Roberts drove in, Snoopy's defensive stance already angled to cut off his left side, his only open direction. By the time Roberts got within half a step, he could have jump-stopped to readjust, but instead, he faked a crossover that completely exposed his intent. His "smart" move backfired, killing his driving lane and forcing him to pass.
At that moment, Snoopy's turn-and-step toward Dorsey wasn't instinct, it was pure anticipation.
Of course, that was only obvious after slow-motion replay. On the court, players don't get that luxury. You have milliseconds to decide.
"His defensive instincts are incredible," Earl Johnson said in awe.
Kenny Smith mused, "Or, maybe this was all a setup. He's an Anderson Business School honors student, after all."
"Impossible," Barkley shot back instantly. "No way his brain's that smart."
Swish. Swish.
Two clean free throws from Westbrook.
As play resumed, Coach Calipari barked from the sidelines, urging Memphis to tighten their interior coverage. Dorsey set up screens near the free-throw line, his solid frame giving him strong presence, but Snoopy didn't chase every rotation. Instead, he shifted subtly, staying mobile, guarding against the inevitable drive and dunk attempts.
UCLA had quietly shifted into a zone.
Bang!
Roberts tried to break through from the wing, but Luc Mbah a Moute's defense was airtight. Forced to pull up, Roberts's jumper clanged off the rim.
Snoopy soared in for the rebound, completely shutting Dorsey out of any chance at an offensive board.
Back on offense, Westbrook eyed the lane, wanting to storm in and soar, but one look from Snoopy, and he pulled up, calmly passing the ball back out.
On the sidelines, Coach Ben Howland blinked in surprise. During the timeout, when Snoopy said, "Let me handle the playmaking," he thought it was absurd. No way would Westbrook just hand over the ball.
And yet, that's exactly what happened. One look from Snoopy, and Westbrook surrendered control.
Howland made a mental note, he needed to talk to the kid after the game and find out the secret behind that kind of authority.
Snoopy caught the ball. Dorsey, following Calipari's orders, took a step back to guard the paint.
So Snoopy rose up and shot.
Swish!
The ball sliced through the net.
Miley Cyrus leapt from her seat, cheering wildly. "Yes!!"
Her understanding of basketball was still shallow, but at least she knew that meant points.
A few seats away, Calipari rubbed his chin, frowning. He had assumed Dorsey would easily shut Snoopy down. But now the kid was orchestrating plays, hitting free-throw-line jumpers, and making the Tigers' defense look lost.
MTF, he cursed internally. Who the hell called him the poor man's Joey Dorsey?
If Dorsey had Snoopy's vision and touch, he'd be a top-five pick in the draft!
Calipari suddenly felt betrayed by the media's scouting reports.
The game pressed on.
Derrick Rose steadied Memphis with a slick pull-up jumper. But right after, Snoopy and Westbrook ran a perfect two-man action at the left elbow.
Snoopy dished the ball to Westbrook, pivoted, and rolled like a wall. Westbrook cut tightly around him, and as he slipped toward the paint, Snoopy spun, bounced a pass precisely into his path, boom!, Westbrook hammered a tomahawk dunk through the rim.
The Staples Center roared.
Memphis had prided itself on interior dominance, but ever since Snoopy began pulling Dorsey out toward the free-throw line, their paint had turned into UCLA's personal playground.
Even old Tex Winter raised an eyebrow. "Snoopy might only have the body of a five-point player," he murmured, "but he's performing at an eight. He's actually running the offense from the free-throw line. Maybe he is a point forward."
Kupchak leaned forward. "With that passing IQ alone, I'd use a second-round pick on him. And if he regains his coordination and mobility with time, then we've hit the jackpot."
Winter didn't argue this time.
He still knew the truth: Snoopy's brilliance shone because his matchup was Joey Dorsey, a brute with no self-creation skills and slow perimeter steps. Against NBA-level athletes, Snoopy's lack of speed and coordination would be exposed.
Still, Kupchak was right. The draft is a gamble, and Snoopy might just be worth the bet.
Fifteen minutes into the game, tweet!
Coach Calipari threw up a timeout signal.
Memphis's nine-point lead had shrunk to just three.
If this kept up, UCLA would seize control of the rhythm. He needed to act.
"Dozier," Calipari said sharply, turning to his bench, "you're guarding Snoopy."