Basketball System: Rebound of the Underdog

Flashback

Yuze stood at the gates of Yin Yang High's Junior School, his heart racing with excitement.

The campus stretched before him, filled with tall buildings and basketball courts that were larger than the ones in their rich neighborhood! He clutched the strap of his backpack tightly, feeling the nervous energy coursing through his veins. He had been accepted on a scholarship, which was a huge deal, and today would be his first practice.

His father, Coach Guanyu, was the head coach here. Yuze had looked up to his father for as long as he could remember, watching him from the sidelines during games. And now, he'd finally have the chance to play under him.

He was sure that this was his moment to shine and to make his father proud.

As he entered the gym for the first time, the conversations around him seemed to fade. The familiar squeak of sneakers on the polished floor echoed in the large space, and the smell of sweat and rubber filled the air. Yuze's eyes scanned the court, hoping to catch a glimpse of his dad.

Coach Guanyu was there, as expected, standing on the sidelines with his arms crossed, his face stoic as usual.

He smiled as his father, knowing he would at least be granted a curt wave.

However, his father merely glanced at him before focusing his gaze back on the other players.

As practice began and the drills started, Yuze noticed that his dad truly wasn't paying him any attention. Not even a glance.

He made an effort to make his form even more perfect, but it was like he wasn't even there.

The other kids started to notice, too.

"Hey," one of the boys whispered during a water break. "Isn't Coach Guanyu your dad?"

"You two look so alike," another chimed in. "You've got the same last name, same eyes."

"Yeah, he must be so proud to have you on the team," a third player added.

"Eyy, that's not the case!" another chimed. "Coach isn't even looking at him! It must just be a coincidence."

Yuze wanted to counter it, but deep down, he also knew that they were just being truthful. Discover stories with My Virtual Library Empire

But that wasn't the whole truth. The other players might think Yuze was just another kid on the team, but Yuze knew his father was holding him to a higher standard.

Every move he made felt like it was being judged, not by the other kids, but by an invisible yardstick his father had set for him. And no matter how hard he tried, Yuze always felt like he was falling short.

At first, he told himself that his father was just being professional—that he didn't want to show favoritism. But as time went on, it became clear that it was more than that.

For others, Yuze was good, but for his father, it seemed like he would never be good enough.

Yuze worked harder. He pushed himself in every practice, stayed late after drills to run extra laps, and tried to perfect his shot. He thought that if he could just be better and prove himself, his father would finally acknowledge him. But the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, and still, nothing.

Then, when Yuze turned 15, everything changed.

A new kid joined the team—a younger player, maybe a year or two younger than Yuze, a bit shorter, but with the physique of someone who was born to play basketball.

His name was Max, and from the moment he stepped onto the court, everyone could see he had something special.

For the first time in a long while, Yuze heard his father speak highly of someone.

"You have talent, kid," Coach Guanyu said after Max's first practice, loud enough for everyone to hear. "You're going to be a great player."

Yuze had frozen when he heard those words, his stomach tightening. His father had never said anything like that about him. Ever.

The praise for Max didn't stop there. Day after day, Yuze watched as his father smiled, clapped, and gave encouraging feedback to the new kid. It was like his father had found the player he'd been waiting for, the one who was going to lead the team to greatness. And Yuze? He felt like he was being left behind.

He tried to shake it off, telling himself that his dad was just excited about the new talent. But it hurt more than he cared to admit.

One evening, Yuze came home from practice, exhausted. As he walked down the hall toward his room, he heard his parents talking in the living room. He paused, something in their voices drawing him closer.

"He's a good kid," his father was saying. "Max Zhou. He's going to be a real player. The Elite Five. We're going to have that."

Yuze felt his heart sink as he stood frozen in the hallway. He knew who his father was talking about. Hearing his father speak about Max in that way, with that much excitement, made Yuze's chest tighten.

"What about Yuze?" his mother's voice cut through the air, soft but firm. "How is our son doing?"

Yuze leaned in, his breath catching in his throat as he waited for his father's response. For a moment, there was only silence, and Yuze's heart pounded in his ears.

"What about him?" his father finally replied, his tone casual, almost dismissive.

"He's our son, Guanyu," his mother pressed. "How is he doing? He isn't speaking much these days. I observed he's also more serious. Is there something happening in the team? So, how is he?"

Another pause. Yuze could hear the slight rustling of papers and the sound of his father shifting in his seat.

"He's not... special," Coach Guanyu said.

Yuze felt like the floor had been pulled out from under him. He stood there, frozen, his body numb. His father's words echoed in his mind, each syllable landing with the weight of a thousand bricks.

He's not special.