In his youth, Josh Smith was nicknamed the "Little Dwight Howard"—at least in terms of physique.
When he first entered the league, he was known as a "human highlight reel"—an explosive leaper with raw athleticism but inconsistent offense.
His help defense and shot-blocking, however, were exceptional even at a young age.
He still holds the record as the youngest player to block ten shots in a single game, as well as the youngest to reach every milestone from 200 to 1,000 career blocks. He was the 2005 Slam Dunk Contest champion, a member of the 2005 All-Rookie Second Team, and a 2009 All-Defensive Second Team selection.
Smith had All-Star-caliber talent, but never earned an All-Star nod. His peak years came with the Atlanta Hawks, where he was a defensive powerhouse and surprisingly capable from beyond the arc.
But his offense was streaky—brilliant one night, frustrating the next. As his athleticism declined with age and wear, his performance dropped. Yet he reminded everyone of his potential in last year's Western Conference semifinals against the Rockets.
With the Clippers leading the series 3–1, Smith helped Houston rally back, winning three straight games and blocking Chris Paul's long-awaited trip to the Conference Finals. Though Smith faded in the next round, his reputation was cemented.
This year, the Clippers brought him in—alongside Paul Pierce—to chase a championship. As a newcomer, Smith meshed well with Pierce. His practice habits were questionable, but when Pierce suggested a charity game, Smith jumped at the chance.
The only other Clipper to tag along was DeAndre Jordan, eager to restore his image.
Still, for all of Smith's talent, he couldn't match Jordan.
High in the air, Jordan flicked his wrist and slapped the opening tip toward Isaiah Thomas.
Though used as a sixth man in previous seasons, Thomas had exploded in the playoffs. Averaging 17.5 points, 7 assists, and 3 rebounds, he had proven himself worthy of Boston's trust. The Celtics were already preparing to name him their starting point guard, and most predicted his numbers would skyrocket.
Boston's defensive identity might hold him back from superstardom, but his offensive firepower was undeniable.
Thomas moved forward to collect the ball—only for a shadow to streak past him. In the blink of an eye, the ball was gone.
"What the—?" Thomas whipped his head around. The thief was Jiang Hai.
Gum in his mouth, Jiang Hai sprinted toward the opposing basket. For a moment, Thomas thought of chasing, but then stopped. Jiang Hai was already crossing the three-point line. With two long strides, he took off from the free-throw line.
To the stunned audience, Jiang Hai soared through the air and unleashed a tomahawk dunk, hammering the ball through the rim.
"Unbelievable! Did I just see that? A tomahawk dunk from the free-throw line? From Jiang Hai—the landowner?" The crowd erupted in disbelief. Nobody had expected Jiang Hai to be this dominant. Even the players on the court froze, staring at him.
They had never imagined his first move would be this.
Sure, plenty of athletes in the U.S. could dunk from the free-throw line—but for an Asian man? Almost unheard of.
"Keep it up!" Avery Bradley and Evan Turner, who had already witnessed Jiang Hai's skills, just smiled knowingly. They understood this was only his warm-up.
"Keep going!" Paul Pierce barked, unwilling to let the show be stolen so easily.
The game resumed. The high schooler on Pierce's squad passed the ball back to Isaiah Thomas, who dribbled across half court.
Matched up against Jiang Hai, Thomas saw nothing but flaws. Jiang Hai stood casually, not even in a proper defensive stance. Amateur, Thomas thought. Despite his freakish dunk, this guy didn't understand real basketball.
With a few dribbles and a couple of fakes, Thomas accelerated, ready to blow past him.
But he underestimated Jiang Hai.
On his final push, Thomas slammed straight into Jiang Hai's body—a wall of steel. Staggering back, Thomas lost control for a split second. Jiang Hai pounced, snatching the ball cleanly from his hands.
Thomas immediately shouted for his teammates to fall back, but Jiang Hai didn't rush. He casually dribbled forward. His own teammates exchanged confused glances, while Bradley and Turner just strolled along calmly.
The referee's eight-second count was already at six when Jiang Hai, standing just beyond his own half, casually flicked the ball one-handed.
Like a cannonball, it arced high—smacking the inside of the rim before bouncing in.
The crowd went silent.
"Did… did he just score from there?" Someone finally gasped. Jiang Hai hadn't even jumped. Just a lazy, one-handed toss from near midcourt—and it went in.
Phones flew out as fans began recording. This was history in the making.
"He's gotten even stronger," Bradley whispered, eyes gleaming. In his heart, he thought: If Jiang Hai ever joined the NBA, he'd guarantee a championship for any team.
Turner, more pragmatic, shook his head. "He doesn't need the NBA. He doesn't need money or fame. That's why he's free to play like this."
Jordan, now holding the ball for the inbound, felt a chill as he looked at Jiang Hai.
But Isaiah Thomas wasn't done. Humiliated twice, he demanded an isolation.
"Whoosh!" He took a deep breath, the ball dancing between his fingers.
Facing him, Jiang Hai stood loose, almost careless. But Thomas felt an odd intimidation radiating from him.
Still, he had guts. He wasn't about to back down.
With a sharp crossover, Thomas spun left, then abruptly shifted right—a dazzling ankle-breaking move. Finally, he added a spin, pulling off a crossover sequence nearly 80% as sharp as Allen Iverson's legendary Butterfly Step.
Fans gasped. This move broke defenders in the NBA. Surely Jiang Hai couldn't stop it.
But he did.
Even as Thomas spun, Jiang Hai's hand darted out, plucking the ball with surgical precision. He casually tossed it to Evan Turner.
"Basketball's not meant to be played one-on-one," Jiang Hai said, ambling upcourt.
Turner advanced the ball as the defense scrambled back. Pierce's team set up a zone to contain Josh Smith, leaving Thomas relieved that he no longer had to face Jiang Hai head-on.
As Jiang Hai reached the three-point line, Turner lobbed the ball.
"An alley-oop? Don't even think about it!" Jordan roared, abandoning the paint to intercept.
He launched himself upward, confident he'd beat Jiang Hai to the ball.
But then Jiang Hai exploded.
Despite being a step behind, he closed the gap instantly, soaring higher and higher—past Jordan.
The crowd gasped.
With his left hand, Jiang Hai seized the ball mid-air, spun, and prepared to dunk. Jordan panicked. Still in mid-air, he lunged, determined to stop him.
But Jiang Hai's free hand extended and nudged Jordan gently. To Jordan's horror, he felt his momentum stall—as if Jiang Hai had physically pushed him backward.
A heartbeat later, Jiang Hai rose above the rim, chin level with the hoop, and thundered home a slam dunk that shook the backboard.
The gym exploded in disbelief.
(To be continued…)