July 8.
The Las Vegas Summer League officially tipped off.
Thomas & Mack Center.
The Lakers welcomed their first opponent of the Summer League stop
the Los Angeles Clippers.
As crosstown rivals, there had always been bad blood between the two teams.
Back then, Kobe Bryant had pushed himself to the brink—playing until his Achilles snapped—just to drag the Lakers into the playoffs. His condition declined sharply afterward.
From that moment on, the Lakers disappeared from the postseason stage, even becoming the kind of bottom-feeder team that everyone else in the league could bully at will.
A fallen tiger is bullied even by dogs.
The Clippers—once a team completely overshadowed and ignored under the Lakers' dominance—had risen dramatically in recent years after Chris Paul joined.
They were no longer just strong contenders for the championship; they also played an exciting, crowd-pleasing brand of basketball.
With Kobe aging and his form declining, the Clippers finally had the capital to challenge the Lakers.
They even boldly declared:
"The new king of Los Angeles belongs to the Clippers!"
Last year, Kobe's desperate hope of making the playoffs one last time ultimately went unfulfilled, and he retired in disappointment.
The Lakers finished with a 26–56 record, second from the bottom in the Western ConfeTetsuyace—bringing Kobe's farewell season to a lonely, bitter end.
The previous year's No. 2 overall pick, Brandon Ingram, had performed poorly. And this year, the Lakers once again landed the second overall pick.
With his background as a tall point guard, Magic Johnson clearly had a fondness for big guards. Using that precious No. 2 pick, he selected the 6'6" point guard, Lonzo Ball.
Even though this guy's shooting was—frankly—atrocious, and his bizarre slingshot-style release looked downright ridiculous.
Still, with two No. 2 picks on the roster, the Lakers' Summer League lineup looked dazzling in what was essentially a rookie tutorial zone.
Add to that Lonzo Ball's loudmouthed father, whose nonstop trash talk fired shots in every direction, and the attention on this year's Summer League exploded to its highest level in nearly a decade.
"My son is ready to destroy all these rookies. He's a born leader!"
"The Summer League MVP is definitely my son's! I've already set a small goal for him—regular-season MVP within three years!"
"What? His shooting form looks bad? Are you blind? Just wait—this season my son will lead the Lakers back to the playoffs!"
"Without Kyrie Irving, LeBron can't win another championship! Unless he comes to the Lakers to help my son—Lonzo will definitely lead him back to glory!"
"..."
Sitting on the bench, Ogawa Tetsuya put away his phone, utterly bored.
He truly couldn't understand where Ball Sr.'s confidence came from.
Then
Ogawa Tetsuya's gaze shifted to the court, landing on Lonzo Ball, who was chucking threes from beyond the arc with that slingshot motion.
This guy's shooting was catastrophically bad.
He had already gone 0-for-8 from three.
The worst part? He seemed absurdly confident—and kept shooting anyway.
Clang!
No surprises there.
Another brick.
The score on the court was now 59–59.
The Lakers—armed with two No. 2 picks in Ingram and Ball, plus young talents like Zubac, Kuzma, and Hart—had somehow been tied by the Clippers.
And yet, the highest draft pick in the Clippers' lineup was Brice Johnson, selected 25th overall in the first round the previous year.
Everyone else was either a second-rounder, an undrafted player, or a free agent scouted from around the world.
It was, without exaggeration, one of the weakest rosters in the entire Summer League.
And still
this ragtag group had the talent-stacked Lakers completely flustered.
Especially in the paint.
The Clippers' power forward Brice Johnson had turned the Lakers' interior upside down.
Last year's Lakers draft pick, Ivica Zubac, standing at 7'1", was being bullied relentlessly.
This left Luke Walton, who had hoped to win the Summer League championship to build confidence in the Lakers' young core, extremely dissatisfied.
"Fuck! What the hell is Ivica doing out there? Is he just giving away free points?!"
Then
Walton turned toward Ogawa Tetsuya and waved his arm sharply.
"Tetsuya, you're in!"
"Go beat the hell out of them—and show Ivica how a real center plays!"
At last, Ogawa Tetsuya checked into the game, beginning his rookie-zone slaughter run.
Earlier, Magic Johnson had specifically instructed Walton not to reveal Ogawa Tetsuya as a trump card unless absolutely necessary.
Swish!
On the other end, the Clippers ran a simple pick-and-roll, and small forward Jalen Johnson knocked down an open three with ease.
Meanwhile, a lethargic Ingram didn't even bother to close out.
Moments later
Ingram, who loved isolations, drew a defensive foul.
Ogawa Tetsuya subbed in for Zubac.
Two free throws.
One made.
The Clippers' guard passed the ball to their most reliable scorer
Brice Johnson.
Facing Kuzma and Zubac earlier, he had gone 10-for-12, scoring 23 points with terrifying efficiency.
"Hey, if Zubac couldn't stop me, you sure as hell can't."
"You're not Yao. Beating you is even easier than bullying Zubac."
The moment the words left his mouth, Brice exploded forward.
Sure enough
not every 'Great Wall' is Yao Ming.
It was far too easy.
Smug with confidence, Brice went straight for the layup, utterly dismissive of Ogawa Tetsuya's reaction.
But
just as he thought the ball would kiss the glass and drop in—
a black shadow descended from the sky.
Ogawa Tetsuya's right hand slammed the ball flat against the backboard.
"Ohhh! The Lakers' big man who just checked in—what a vicious pin-to-the-glass block on Brice!"
"That yellow-skinned, black-haired guy—what's his name?!"
"The big man who just delivered that monster block is Ogawa Tetsuya, from Japan!"
"God! That block reminds me of LeBron's chasedown block on Andre Iguodala in the Finals two years ago!"
"Japan actually has someone who can pull off a LeBron-style pin block? And he's a seven-footer too—his talent is unreal!"
"..."
The commentators erupted, voices soaring as they replayed Ogawa Tetsuya's monstrous block.
After swatting the shot, Ogawa Tetsuya exploded upward again, snatching the rebound with authority.
"My God—what did I just see?!"
"That Tetsuya from Japan—he actually has the explosiveness for a second jump like that?!"
"He's clearly playing tougher and stronger than Ivica Zubac. Brice probably got traumatized by that block!"
"..."
Author's Note:
Update Rules and Personal Motivation (Must Read)
I've been watching the NBA since 2003, ever since Yao Ming entered the league in 2002.
I played a lot of basketball in middle school and university, but I never imagined I'd one day write a novel about the sport I love.
Kobe once said that if Shaq hadn't been lazy, they could've won ten championships together.
And in this small-ball era, Yao once said that the way to counter small ball only required one prime Shaquille O'Neal.
So I wanted to try this—
letting a protagonist who starts with prime Shaq-level talent return to the Lakers after Kobe's retirement, when the team had fallen into mediocrity.
With peak Shaq talent and system assistance, gaining the abilities of the four great centers—or even other elite big men—
what kind of sparks would fly when facing a league dominated by small ball?