Chapter 9: Towns Realizes He Hit an Aircraft Carrier
When AdrianCross stepped to the free-throw line, several NBA decision-makers on the sidelines made surprisingly similar moves.
DannyAinge, the general manager of the BostonCeltics, crossed out Karl-AnthonyTowns in his notebook with force.
Below it, he circled AdrianCross heavily, the pen almost tearing the paper.
"This isn't a potential gap anymore," Ainge muttered.
"This is immediate dominance."
On the tactical board of the SanAntonioSpurs coaching staff, the note "Towns – KeyObservation" was erased.
It was replaced with.
AdrianCross – PriorityLevelS+
GreggPopovich rubbed his temples and quietly said to an assistant.
"We need to rethink his position. He's not just a traditional center."
"He's a rebounding monster who can run the floor."
Meanwhile, a scout from the MinnesotaTimberwolves looked conflicted.
He had come specifically to evaluate Towns.
But in his report, he slowly wrote:
"Adrian Cross possesses the most overwhelming physical tools among all big men in this draft class."
"His rebounding dominance is already elite."
Adrian bounced the ball once.
Twice.
Then he shot.
DUANG!
Airball.
The crowd groaned.
But before anyone could react—
Adrian had already exploded toward the rim like a missile.
Towns and Cauley-Stein both moved to secure the rebound.
Too late.
Adrian squeezed between them, grabbed the ball overbothplayers, and slammed it back into the hoop.
SLAM!!
Score: 8–0
The arena erupted.
"WHAT?! Another put-back dunk?!"
"That was off his own free throw!"
"One and a half minutes in and Adrian Cross hasn't even received a pass yet!"
"Eight points — all from rebounds and putbacks!"
On the sideline, MitchKupchak from the LosAngelesLakers looked up in shock.
"Wait… he scored again?"
"How is it always him?"
Beside him, head coach ByronScott shook his head with a bitter smile.
"We studied the analytics all night."
"But sometimes… data means nothing against pure physical talent."
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
Suddenly, the referee blew the whistle for a timeout.
Everyone looked confused.
There was no coach calling plays during the scrimmage. Normally timeouts only happened during dead balls.
But this one came in the middle of liveaction.
"What's going on?" D'AngeloRussell asked, holding the ball.
"Did the refs get mixed up?"
Adrian frowned slightly.
Then he looked across the court.
There he saw Towns standing still.
Hands on his knees. Breathing heavily. Eyes unfocused.
Adrian immediately understood.
"This timeout… was basically a mercy break."
A way to let the top prospect recover mentally.
Adrian smirked slightly.
"Looks like they're protecting the star prospect."
He turned and walked toward the bench
As soon as Adrian reached the sideline, teammates surrounded him.
"Dude, that put-back dunk was insane!"
"Towns looks like a high school kid next to you!"
"Eight points without a single pass?! That rebounding is ridiculous!"
Russell squeezed forward, grinning proudly.
"See? I told you. You don't even need me to pass you the ball."
Adrian rolled his eyes.
"You're still bragging?"
Russell laughed.
But Adrian knew exactly the type of player Russell was:
Brilliant when the momentum was good…
But inconsistent under pressure.
Some things never changed.
The atmosphere on the Blue Team side was completely different.
Heavy.
Silent.
Towns sat on the floor, gripping his hair.
"That guy's strength is insane," he muttered.
"I can't grab a single rebound. I need help."
WillieCauley-Stein patted him on the shoulder.
"Relax, Karl. I've got your back."
DevinBooker leaned over too.
"We're playing team basketball. We'll handle it together."
The three of them had built strong chemistry at the UniversityofKentuckymen'sbasketballprogram.
If anyone could stabilize the situation, it was them.
Towns took a deep breath.
Across the court, Adrian was surrounded by teammates and scouts.
Frustration burned in Towns' chest.
"This isn't over."
The scrimmage restarted.
Booker tried feeding the ball inside.
But Adrian's defense was a wall.
Just one step sideways to box out — and Towns couldn't even reach the paint.
Towns waved frantically for position.
Adrian didn't move an inch.
Booker finally forced a shot.
CLANG!
Miss.
"Rebound!"
Both big men jumped.
Adrian bumped Cauley-Stein with his left shoulder.
Half-step backward.
Then another shove with his right shoulder.
Towns lost balance and stumbled out of the restricted area.
Adrian grabbed the rebound effortlessly.
Rebounds: +4
Kupchak shook his head.
"That rebounding dominance…"
"That might be the best in this entire draft class."
The moment Adrian grabbed the rebound—
He sprinted.
No hesitation.
A 2.16-meter center starting a fast break.
The crowd gasped.
Adrian's strides were enormous, like a charging tank.
Shockingly—
He outranBooker.
Kupchak stood up.
"His speed is faster than guards?!"
"This doesn't make sense!"
Adrian crossed half court.
No defender in sight.
Near the three-point line he gathered the ball.
Two steps.
Three.
Then—
He launched from the free-throwline.
The entire arena stood up.
Adrian spun 360degrees in the air.
Right arm extended.
Ball swinging like a comet.
BOOOOM!!!
The dunk thundered through the arena.
But something else followed.
CRACK!
The backboard spider-webbed instantly.
Then—
SHATTER!!!
Glass exploded everywhere.
The rim hung crooked.
The basketball rolled across the floor among shattered pieces.
Total silence.
No one spoke.
Then—
The arena erupted.
"WHAT THE—?!"
"HE BROKE THE BACKBOARD!"
"A FREE-THROW LINE 360?!"
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!"
On the bench, Russell's jaw hung open.
He forgot to celebrate.
Adrian shook a few glass fragments off his hands and looked up at the broken rim.
Even he looked surprised.
"…That broke?"
"I barely used any force."
Across the court, Towns stood frozen.
Speed.
Strength.
Vertical leap.
Power.
Every physical category… completely dominated.
And now—
Adrian had shatteredthebackboard.
Towns looked at the glass covering the floor.
Then at Adrian standing calmly beneath the rim.
The last bit of confidence inside him disappeared.
This wasn't just running into a wall.
This felt like kicking an aircraftcarrier.