"We can't keep going like this!" Oden muttered under his breath as he glanced at Mike Conley across the nearly empty arena. The tension in the air was thick; the team's morale was crumbling, and it felt like every game was slipping further out of their grasp.
Mike nodded slowly, understanding the weight of Oden's words. "You're right. We really can't just sit back and watch everything fall apart."
Seeing his friend agree, Oden's eyes burned with frustration. "If we keep losing like this, March Madness will become just a dream. We might not even make it to the tournament."
Though it pained him to admit it, Oden knew deep down that without a reliable small forward to anchor the team, his own efforts, as strong as they were, wouldn't be enough to pull them through. His voice was thick with disappointment. "I'm not saying I'm weak. I've done everything I can. But it's clear we're missing something crucial."
Mike placed a reassuring hand on Oden's shoulder. "You've been under immense pressure. You're the top prospect, the team's core. And the media? They're already questioning your leadership. It's unfair, but it's reality."
Oden's shoulders sagged. "Yeah, I've heard the whispers. They say I'm not cutting it."
Mike sighed deeply and then said, "Maybe it's time we talk to the coach."
Oden raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Why the coach? I thought you'd want to talk to Yang Yan."
Conley shook his head slowly, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "I have a feeling convincing Yang Yan would be harder than convincing the coach. Besides, the coach has the final say."
Oden was puzzled but trusted Conley's instincts. Conley was always the smarter one between them.
The next day, Coach Gallagher arrived at the arena an hour later than usual. His face was clouded with concern. As soon as he entered, his eyes locked onto Yang Yan, who was sitting quietly on the sidelines. The young player had clearly finished his half-hour of training, but instead of ignoring him like usual, Gallagher's gaze lingered.
Gallagher's mind was swirling with uncertainty. What was Yang Yan planning? Was he going to push forward? Or retreat deeper into his silence?
After training wrapped up, Oden and Mike found the coach alone.
"Coach, we need him," Oden began earnestly.
Mike nodded. "His training attitude might be loose, but his performance on the court is undeniable."
"Coach, we really want to make it to March Madness. We can't do it without him."
They braced themselves for the coach's inevitable scolding. Their request directly challenged Gallagher's authority, and they knew it.
Instead of a harsh rebuke, Gallagher sighed—a deep, almost weary sound.
"Alright, I promise you. Yang Yan will play in the next game," Gallagher said, almost reluctantly.
Oden and Conley exchanged stunned glances. They hadn't expected it to be that easy.
"Okay, you two go back. I'll be here… alone," Gallagher muttered, waving them off slowly, as if drained of energy.
Once they were gone, Gallagher let out a helpless sigh.
Was this really the right decision?
He knew deep down that after making this compromise, the chances of getting Yang Yan back on track were slim. But what choice did he have?
What Oden and Conley didn't know was that Gallagher had been summoned by the principal earlier that morning.
Though a college coach wields significant power over his team, his position depended on results. The principal had made it clear that recent performances were unacceptable.
But that wasn't the only concern.
The principal slid a thick folder across the desk.
Inside were thousands of complaint letters—accusations of racial discrimination within the team.
Players reported being suppressed because of their skin color, denied fair opportunities.
And while Gallagher had initially thought the problem lay only with Yang Yan, the principal explained that this was just the tip of the iceberg. Thousands of letters had been submitted, and if the issue wasn't addressed immediately, it would bring severe consequences for the university.
Ohio State was part of the Ivy League—a prestigious institution that could not tolerate such a stain on its reputation.
Gallagher left the principal's office feeling the weight of a problem that was now far beyond his control.
Racial discrimination was a red line in the United States. What the principal had said was already careful diplomacy.
The following day, Yang Yan followed his usual routine of training for half an hour before leaning against a wall, lost in thought.
He pondered deeply: How could he become a stable rotation player with guaranteed minutes on the court? It felt like a distant dream.
When training ended, Gallagher gathered the team.
"The roster for the next game will be announced now."
Yang Yan noticed something odd—when Gallagher said this, he glanced toward the defense line, an unusual hesitation.
"Starting point guard: Mike Conley!"
"Starting center: Oden!"
"Starting power forward: Auden!"
"Starting shooting guard: Hill!"
…and then, "Starting small forward: Johnny!"
Oden and Conley exchanged looks of despair.
They thought they had convinced Gallagher. Yet the lineup was unchanged.
Johnny's face grew sour as he anticipated the upcoming struggle—he knew he would once again be outmatched by the opposing small forward.
Then came the substitutes list.
"Substitute player: Yang Yan."
Yang frowned. He had been off the rotation list for over two weeks. Why was he suddenly back?
Gallagher said nothing more and turned away, leaving the arena without explanation.
The next day, the team gathered to travel for an away game.
Yang Yan stood by the bus, curious. It was his first time traveling with the team for an away match.
The bus ride was long and tough, stretching several hours. Yang Yan's stomach churned, and he struggled to keep his breakfast down.
Johnny sat beside him, his expression heavy.
"Man, I don't think I can hold on much longer," Johnny suddenly admitted.
Yang Yan turned to him, surprised.
"Why?"
Johnny sighed deeply.
"I've been thinking. After this game, I'm going to submit my resignation. I'm quitting the basketball team."
His voice was flat, as if he had already accepted defeat.
Yang Yan opened his mouth to comfort him but found no words. He knew Johnny was carrying more weight than anyone realized.