Chapter 400: The Chen Yan Effect, Kobe's Self Motivation
The moment the final whistle sounded, the entire Chinese men's basketball team flooded the middle of the floor.
Players and coaches collided in a wave of bodies and laughter. Chen Yan yanked at the side of his jersey like he was trying to rip the last 40 minutes off his skin. Yi Jianlian, Zhu, and Wang, the Hongyuan trio, locked each other up in a tight hug. Yao Ming stood there for a second, eyes glassy, then the tears finally came.
All the pressure, all the doubt, all the nights where nobody outside the gym believed, it poured out at once.
Everyone knew how rare this was.
In Asia, China had long been the heavyweight. On the world stage, they were still fighting for legitimacy. Before Beijing, their best Olympic finishes were top 8 in 1996 and 2004. A medal was not a goal people said out loud. It was a dream you kept folded in your pocket so it would not get laughed at.
Now they had it.
The broadcast lingered on Chen Yan for a full 15 seconds. He was the face of the breakthrough, the engine behind history. He scored 41 points tonight, but what hit fans even harder was the 13 assists. People were used to his scoring explosions. That was the scary part. A guard going for 40 once is news. A guard making 40 feel normal is how you break a sport's imagination.
Some viewers who only watched basketball during the Olympics were genuinely starting to believe 40 and 50 point nights from guards were routine.
In the booth, Sun Zhengping's voice cracked as he yelled through the noise.
"This is a zero to 1 breakthrough, not just for men's basketball medals, but for the big ball events too. These young men played with brilliance and backbone. They are the pride of every fan, and right now, I don't even have words for how I feel."
Sun had been calling China's games since the 1984 Olympics. This was the brightest moment of his entire commentary life.
Beside him, Zhang Heli struggled to keep his composure.
"This bronze medal was earned the hard way. Yao Ming played through injury, Chen Yan emptied the tank, and Yi Jianlian, Wang Zhizhi, everyone gave everything they had. Salute this team. They made history."
The emotion in the booth spilled into living rooms across the country. Fans watching at home wiped their eyes, not even trying to pretend they were not moved. This team had given them something rare, a feeling that stayed in the chest.
China celebrated. The sold out stands celebrated with them.
On the other side, Spain walked off quietly, shoulders heavy.
They came in as championship contenders. They left without a medal.
And it was not dramatic to say their Olympic path changed the moment Chen Yan arrived. His breakout shifted group standings, pushed matchups forward, forced Spain into Team USA earlier. Then he came back in the bronze medal game and put up a massive double double performance that slammed the door.
Still, Spain did not lose their class. Before leaving the floor, they hugged China's players one by one.
"This was a great game," Chen Yan told Pau Gasol, simple and sincere. "Hope we see each other again in the NBA."
He and Pau were not close, a few meetings on NBA courts, nothing more. Pau, however, spoke with real grace.
"If there was an MVP vote for this Olympic tournament, I'd vote for you. You were unbelievable. What you did here, nobody else did."
Chen Yan nodded, thanked him, then shook hands with Rubio.
No words.
Rubio's mind was tangled. He finished with 8 points and 4 assists, better than his first meeting with China in group play, but it was not remotely in the same universe as Chen Yan's 40 plus 10 plus.
Even Spain's own fans were not satisfied. Their prodigy looked ordinary standing next to China's prodigy. And the worst part was that Rubio felt it too. Watching Chen Yan, he could not help wondering if he really belonged in the NBA at all.
…
The medal ceremony would not start until the gold medal game ended. China had done their job. They returned to the locker room to celebrate and wait.
Inside, Sun Dasheng walked up to Chen Yan, eyes bright.
"Chen Yan, when I go to the United States next season, you've got to look out for me."
He had been drafted by the Los Angeles Lakers, 40th pick in the second round. Next season, he would step into the NBA for real.
Chen Yan grinned. "Los Angeles has more nightclubs than basketball courts. You sure you need me to guide you?"
Sun Dasheng burst out laughing and slapped Chen Yan's back. "Be serious. I'm talking about basketball."
The joke landed because the tension between them was gone. Whatever rough edges existed before the Olympics had been sanded down by fighting together.
Chen Yan's success had lit something in Sun Dasheng. He had size, wingspan, real tools. Now he wanted more than a contract. He wanted a name.
And it was not just Sun Dasheng. Plenty of Asian guards watching this run felt the same spark. Chen Yan made people believe, not with speeches, but with proof. Basketball was not reserved for one skin tone. It belonged to anyone willing to pay the price.
That was the Chen Yan effect.
Chen Yan looked at Sun Dasheng's serious expression and answered honestly.
"You've got height and wingspan that even I envy. But that's not enough. The NBA is full of talent. The difference is who works every day, all season, for their whole career."
He pointed to the simplest road.
"Keep the right attitude. Lean into your defense, that's your foundation. Once you establish yourself, then you can talk about the next step."
Sun Dasheng nodded, listening carefully.
Then Chen Yan clapped his hands. "Alright. That's for after tonight. Right now, we celebrate."
He popped a bottle of champagne and sprayed it straight at Sun Dasheng.
Sun Dasheng yelped and dodged, laughing, shouting, trying to escape the foam. The locker room turned into pure chaos, the good kind.
…
Soon, the gold medal game began.
Argentina looked sharp, but Team USA looked like a storm with a grudge.
You could read 2 words on their faces, revenge and redemption.
In 2004 Athens, Argentina knocked them out. Lose again here, and the entire roster would have been remembered as a punchline forever.
They did not lose.
Powered by anger and overwhelming talent, the Dream Eight rolled Argentina and took Olympic gold.
When the buzzer sounded, Team USA celebrated like a team that had been holding its breath for 4 years. The Redemption Team had finally redeemed.
Kobe Bryant smiled wide.
It had been a long time since he'd felt a group celebration like that. Since 2002, he hadn't tasted anything like this, the dogpile hugs, the roar of fans, that championship sweetness.
For this, Kobe delayed finger surgery. He sacrificed summer rest. He gave everything to the Olympics, and now he got the best possible return.
On the eve of his 30th birthday, he handed himself a gift, the hegemony of Team USA and that gold medal everyone wanted.
…
Then came a small locker room moment that turned into a headline.
During the post game media scrum, Kobe opened his locker. A photo slipped out and fell to the floor.
Reporters leaned in.
It was a picture of Chen Yan holding the championship trophy and the Finals MVP trophy.
Cameras clicked instantly.
For a split second, Kobe looked awkward.
Then he recovered, like Kobe always did.
"This is how I motivate myself," he said. "Whenever I want to rest, whenever I want to stop training, I look at it. I don't want to feel that kind of failure again. It keeps me moving."
The quote traveled fast. It reached Chen Yan before the medal ceremony.
In the player tunnel, reporters caught Chen Yan and asked what he thought.
Chen Yan shrugged. "That's very Kobe. He's exactly the kind of guy who would do that."
He paused, then added with a straight face, "In a way, it's respect. But if you're asking if I'm happy about it, no. I don't want my photo being carried around by a grown man. That's a little… strange."
The reporters cracked up.
Right before stepping onto the podium, Chen Yan still found time to land 1 last joke.
...
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