Chapter 22: Bastards Who Can’t Go To Heaven
“!!! It’s in! The ball went in!!! I swear on God, you’re witnessing history! Red Raiders buzzer-beater!.”
The commentator’s roar was completely drowned out by the deafening wave of noise. TTU’s bench players and staff rushed onto the court like maniacs, instantly submerging Xu Ling, who had made the buzzer-beater, in a sea of people. The roof of United Spirit Arena was nearly lifted off by the cheers.
In the chaos, Xu Ling struggled to push through the crowd. He didn’t look at the cheering fans, nor did he celebrate with his teammates right away; his gaze sharply scanned the court, ultimately locking precisely on that figure standing stunned in place—Kevin Durant.
Durant was hanging his head, hands on his knees, a massive sense of loss draining him of all strength. He had just fallen from heaven; that roar of “You can’t guard me!” still echoed in his ears, now turned into the most piercing mockery.
Xu Ling pushed through the crowd and walked straight up to Durant.
The surrounding clamor seemed to freeze in that moment.
Xu Ling stopped, saying calmly in a voice only the two of them could hear, “I heard it.” He paused, as if recalling the other’s exact words, “You said, ‘No matter how hard I try, I can’t guard you.'”
Durant jerked his head up, wondering what killer line Xu Ling was about to drop.
Xu Ling met his gaze, his face showing no smugness, just a calm like stating a fact.
“So,” Xu Ling continued, “I had to prove that there are many ways to beat you, and I just chose the one you’d hate the most.”
With that, he no longer looked at Durant’s instantly ugly face, turning to join his teammates who were still celebrating wildly.
The arena echoed intensely with celebrations, screams, and cheers, and many professionals deeply remembered Xu Ling’s name.
※※※
“Good morning, students, remember, the road under your feet is Eli’s path here! If you want to become tomorrow’s superstar like him, then get moving, fight! Youngsters, go fight!”
Texas Tech University’s morning broadcast rang through the campus, that voice brimming with unmasked excitement.
Xu Ling felt a wave of embarrassment. He knew the story of becoming famous with one ball, but he hadn’t expected it to happen to him in this form.
At that moment, Xu Ling was walking to the academic building with Roderick Craig, hugging textbooks. This two-meter-tall black giant was munching a sandwich, mumbling unclearly, “Eli, the sports management exam is in a few days, you confident? Heard you’ve been busy being a hero lately and haven’t had time to study?”
Xu Ling was about to reply when three blonde girls suddenly jumped out from the roadside; the leader was wearing a Red Raiders No. 1 jersey, holding a cardboard “ring box” in her hand.
“Eli, marry me!”
Xu Ling froze in place; Craig burst out laughing, sandwich crumbs flying three meters.
“Hahahaha!” Craig slapped his thigh, “Brother, looks like your ‘court dominance’ has extended to the love field! Want me to accept the ‘ring’ for you?”
“Shut up!” Xu Ling went around, his face saying “don’t mess with me.”
Craig caught up, winking, “For real, you really not tempted at all? This is a Texas babe!”
“They’re too wild for me.” Xu Ling acted like a love veteran, “I prefer ones with a bit more depth.”
Hearing that, Craig laughed, “If they knew your dating standards are like that, I bet every woman you see after will be a lady!”
Xu Ling and Craig dodged the crowd, returned to the dorm, and chatted about NBA draft predictions.
Craig lit up talking about Xu Ling’s draft predictions, as if he were the one entering the NBA.
“You know? Chad Ford urgently updated the mock draft this morning.”
“Oh, really?”
“You’re at sixth! And he got flamed for putting you at sixth!”
“Why?”
“Because most people think you can be top three, but Chad Ford thinks you need to go through March Madness to prove if you’re worth top three.”
The effect of beating a superstar on the court absolutely exists.
Xu Ling remembered Rui Hachimura’s college mock draft once reaching third pick because he led Gonzaga to beat Duke University led by Zion Williamson, RJ Barrett, and Cam Reddish.
But the NBA ultimately evaluates players from another dimension.
So Ford’s viewpoint can be said to be completely correct.
Then Craig brought up the draft: “Eli, after freshman season ends, you gonna declare?”
Xu Ling was frank with Craig: “If my draft market value hasn’t dropped by then, I don’t think I have reason to stay on campus.”
“Oh, so I can control you in NBA Live next year?”
“Probably” Xu Ling thought, but are you sure it’s not NBA 2K?
Xu Ling really didn’t know basketball game history; as a post-00s, he only knew 2K, and due to 2K’s monopoly, they basically lost ambition in the 2020s, just stably cranking out reskinned new games every year.
After a short rest in the dorm, Xu Ling and Craig headed to the gymnasium. On the way, Xu Ling could still feel the joy of beating University of Texas drifting through campus. Media, teachers, and classmates were all hotly discussing that game.
But in United Spirit Arena, head coach Knight had already decided to move on.
When Xu Ling entered the court, Martin Zeno sitting on the sideline said, “You better train honestly today!”
“Why?” Xu Ling couldn’t help asking, what he really wanted to ask was, when haven’t we?
“Coach looks in a bad mood.”
Zeno said it, and Xu Ling got it.
Old Knight is like that, always with a sour face, like that scumbag bald guy in Whiplash hunting for mistakes.
Seeing Xu Ling, Knight said loudly, “Our hero has arrived!”
Xu Ling asked, “Does hero come with special privileges?”
Knight sneered, “If you think you have any privileges, you’ll be TTU’s first hero to get the death penalty!”
Despite beating University of Texas, despite Red Raiders currently ranked second in BIG 12 league, Knight showed no relaxation. He personally ran today’s training, and players who thought it’d be easy paid the price.
“You damn bastards think hugging the hero’s leg to luckily beat University of Texas means you can slack on training?!”
“Damn it, Daryl, why can’t you ever learn to play seriously! Where’s your attitude? Your professionalism? You expect to find a job after graduation with that attitude?!”
“J.J! You’re the worst defender I’ve ever seen! Remember, you’re the fucking worst!”
Today’s training was painful for many, but luckily it only lasted two hours.
Then Xu Ling started practicing NBA standard distance three-pointers.
NBA’s standard three-point line compared to current NCAA’s short and cute one was basically ultra-long three.
Seeing Xu Ling’s “bros, I’m about to play NBA, no time for your messing around” look, Knight was pissed.
“Eli!!!”
Xu Ling looked over, face saying: what, something up?
“You think you’re special?”
“Saying no would be too hypocritical.” TTU Jordan meant, yeah, bros are special.
“You’re not special at all!” Knight yelled, “Compared to freaks like Kevin Durant and Greg Oden, you’re not special at all! Nothing special about you anywhere, got it?”
Xu Ling wasn’t arrogant enough to think he was special, but old Knight seemed off his meds today.
“Don’t get it.” Xu Ling said, “I think I’m special.”
TTU’s Jordan successfully choked Knight.
Knight had to breathe hard to calm down. At the same time, his gaze turned fierce: “I’m sick of you self-righteous bastard. You better know what you’re doing; I don’t want to see you keep shooting that damn ultra-long three, that’s the worst thing on a basketball court! Either practice from standard spot or go run!”
“I don’t accept.”
“What?”
“Training time’s over, I’m free now.” Xu Ling said rebelliously, “Even if Jesus stood here asking, I wouldn’t obey.”
“Good! Good! Good!” Knight laughed in anger, “Then keep shooting your damn stupid ultra-long threes here!”
Knight turned and left.
Xu Ling still felt baffled; he looked at Pat Knight and asked, “Does his contract include a clause to yell at us daily? Like if he doesn’t one day, he gets fined?”
Xu Ling’s words sparked a burst of quiet laughter.
At TTU, only Xu Ling dares to badmouth Knight like that.
It could be said Xu Ling’s existence dismantled Knight’s iron rule; he showed other players that if you’re strong enough, even the general can’t touch you.
At first, many resented Xu Ling—this rookie was too flashy, stealing all the spotlight. But half a season later, Xu Ling proved with performance he’s not on the same level as others.
The veterans let go, but what really made them admire Xu Ling was this rookie daring to challenge Knight’s authority.
That Knight with records of choking, kicking, punching players had no way to deal with Xu Ling.
They didn’t dare imitate, but Xu Ling’s existence greatly eased their pressure.
###
Knight didn’t know what was with him today. When he heard the school broadcast hyping Xu Ling’s earth-shaking feat last night, when he saw national sports media talking about “TTU’s Jordan,” a long-lost, almost burning excitement rose in him—but right after was deeper anxiety and panic.
The last time he felt this was twenty years ago. He wished he were still young, still with energy to lead this team transformed by Xu Ling to victory. But the sweeter victory tastes, the more painful waking from the dream. Xu Ling’s actions showed he absolutely wouldn’t stay for a second college season.
Once losing Xu Ling, this year’s glory would shatter like bubbles. They’d revert, he’d still be him, the old guy yelling to revive TTU but knowing deep down he couldn’t turn it around.
He wouldn’t get another chance to coach a Xu Ling, and this fall from the clouds to the ground nearly devoured him. He couldn’t bear it.
So seeing Xu Ling adapting to NBA three-point line in training for the future made him explode. It was less anger, more desperate displaced rage at his most precious treasure being stolen bit by bit by time.
But afterward, reason returned, and he felt some regret.
So after the gym cleared, he went to the locker room. The rowdy locker room went silent at Knight’s arrival. Xu Ling was already in street clothes, listening to captain Jackson—this God-fearing Christian—giving earnest advice.
Then Knight appeared, heading straight for him.
“I don’t like doing those things.” Knight’s words startled Xu Ling; what was old Knight doing? Apologizing? Impossible—”But someone has to do them, someone has to get mad; personally, I don’t think you can guide yourselves right, so I have to push you onto the right path.”
The question is, how to define right?
Xu Ling said nothing.
Knight looked at Jackson, “J.J, you always talk about God. Fine, let me tell you something: God won’t provide any guidance for this basketball team. He doesn’t care if we win. He won’t parachute from this building’s roof to score when we need points. My father once told me God only helps those who help themselves. And let me tell you something else. No, first let me ask: Do you really think God will help our team?”
Jackson was speechless; he really didn’t think debating theology with a God-blasphemer like Knight was good.
“So…” Xu Ling followed his logic, half-jokingly serious, “Coach, you hoping to help J.J preview hell’s fire through this ‘humane persecution’ to pave his road to heaven?”
“Go to hell, Eli!” Knight was almost laughing at the kid’s twisted logic but kept a straight face, “And I’ll tell you one last time: No no-defense bastard is going to heaven!”
Today’s sermon ended there.
