Chapter 403: New Season, Chen Yan's Taunts
On the 3rd day of camp week, major outlets dropped their early temperature check on the Phoenix Suns.
Most mainstream media still had Phoenix as the favorite to repeat. The logic was simple. The championship core stayed intact, and the front office patched the soft spots, adding help at point guard and on the wing. White Chocolate Williams and Novak were both seen as clean fits in Phoenix's system, and analysts believed rookie DeAndre could have his strengths amplified by playing next to Nash and Chen Yan.
With the praise piling up, the Suns' preseason training camp officially began.
Chen Yan had already seen everyone on Media Day, so the reunion did not come with much small talk. He walked straight to Barea.
"Jose, you're going to have real competition this season," Chen Yan said. "You need to go harder."
Barea grinned. "Chen, I trained all summer for this. I've been waiting on the season to start."
As he spoke, he glanced toward Jason Williams in the distance. He understood exactly who Chen Yan meant.
Chen Yan patted his shoulder. "We're brothers, but your minutes are earned. Nobody gets privileges on this team. You know what I'm saying."
"I do," Barea said, still smiling. "That won't scare me."
Chen Yan nodded, satisfied with the answer.
Barea had never been afraid of a fight. He left Puerto Rico to chase the NBA in a league full of monsters. Last season, he carved out a name, and his one on one defense against LeBron in the Finals was still something fans argued about. But staying in the league meant leveling up again, not living off one moment.
Chen Yan had a similar talk with Azubuike.
Azubuike was already a steady rotation piece last season, but his spot was not guaranteed. Novak's arrival would squeeze minutes somewhere, and everyone knew it. Chen Yan wanted the pressure inside the locker room to stay healthy. If the team was going to repeat, comfort could not be part of the culture.
Soon, Phoenix held its first official practice of the new season.
The conditioning coach started with laps, then the basics, passing and cutting, shooting work, and finally full scrimmages.
Training camp usually ran about a week, and the first practice was open to the public. Around 5,000 seats had sold out a week in advance. Most of the crowd were loyal Suns fans who wanted a first look at the team, especially Chen Yan, before the season tipped off.
From the stands, a woman with an Asian face yelled, her accent sounding Taiwanese.
"Chen Yan, I love you, do you know that?"
Not far away, a Latin woman shouted in Portuguese, loud enough for half the section to hear.
"Chen, eu amo você!"
Chen Yan did not speak Portuguese, but he knew exactly what it meant. At this point, he had learned I love you in more languages than he could count, simply because it was the most common thing women screamed at him.
Practice started with a light mood, but once the scrimmage began, both teams played the Suns way, full speed offense from the opening possession. The crowd loved it.
Open practices were basically a gift back to the fans, a basketball show with just enough competition to feel real.
Chen Yan made a point to feature the new guys.
Early on, he fed Novak clean looks. Novak did not hesitate, drilling 2 straight 3s with perfect net snaps. At this intensity, in this setting, shooting for him really did look as casual as breathing.
Then Chen Yan turned his attention to DeAndre.
He started throwing him tougher passes, including lobs placed deliberately high, the kind that force a big to either rise and finish or look silly. DeAndre just kept detonating anyway, flushing everything like the rim owed him money.
"DeAndre, run harder!" "DeAndre, catch this!" "DeAndre, be aggressive!"
Chen Yan kept calling him out, kept feeding him, kept testing him.
DeAndre's athleticism had Chen Yan genuinely excited. In Chen Yan's mind, this was the kind of big you raise like a personal weapon.
The session went flawlessly. Between the running gun offense and the nonstop dunks, the building stayed loud. DeAndre alone accounted for nearly half the slams, clearly trying to empty the tank and announce himself in front of the home fans.
D'Antoni subbed him early.
Working hard was great. Getting too hyped in an open run was how people got hurt.
After practice, Chen Yan found DeAndre.
"Good work," Chen Yan said. "Keep playing like that and it won't take long before the fans remember your name."
DeAndre smiled, warm and almost innocent. For a rookie, that kind of affirmation mattered.
…
A week passed fast. Then preseason arrived.
Chen Yan mostly cruised through it, keeping his minutes low and letting the new players and bench guys get run. They needed reps, rhythm, and chemistry.
He played 25 minutes in the first preseason game. After that, he rarely went over 15. The rest of the starters followed the same pattern.
For most teams, preseason was about conditioning and roles, not records. Phoenix finished 5 and 3, which was more than fine.
After the preseason, Chen Yan got a call from Los Angeles.
His first thought was automatic.
Did Kobe change his number again?
He answered, and Sun Dasheng's voice came through.
"Is this your LA number?" Chen Yan asked.
"Yeah. I forgot to tell you," Sun Dasheng said.
"How's it going? You settling in?" Chen Yan asked.
"All good," Sun Dasheng replied. "I adjust fast."
That made sense. Sun Dasheng had already spent time bouncing around the ABA in the United States with his old Aoshen team, so the environment and language did not hit him as hard.
"What about the Lakers?" Chen Yan asked. "Those old vets bullying you yet?"
Bullying rookies was basically a league tradition. Chen Yan carried bags and fetched water when he first got in, same as everyone else.
"The vibe here is good," Sun Dasheng said. "And Kobe's been really kind to me. He talks to me after games and gives me pointers."
Chen Yan smiled. "Work hard. You know Kobe's strict. If he's treating you like that, your start is already better than most rookies. The rest is on you."
"Got it," Sun Dasheng said. "Next time we see each other on the court, we're opponents."
Chen Yan laughed. "Then keep working, because I usually don't play during garbage time."
Sun Dasheng laughed too, and they hung up.
In the following days, Chen Yan also spoke with Yi Jianlian.
Yi's situation was different. He already had a stable rotation role with the Chicago Bulls, and the Bulls had promised more minutes. They wanted to develop the Eastern big as a long term piece.
During the call, Yi mentioned something that made Chen Yan pause.
"We got a new kid," Yi said. "The type that takes off like a rocket."
"What's his name?" Chen Yan asked.
"Russell," Yi said. "Russell Westbrook."
Chen Yan slapped his forehead.
So Westbrook landed in Chicago this time.
That was the butterfly effect in real time. Chen Yan's presence had reshaped draft positions and team paths, and now players' careers were shifting with it. Whether it would end up good or bad, only time would answer.
Among the Chinese NBA guys, the only one Chen Yan did not call was Yao Ming.
Yao had not returned to Houston's camp after the Olympics and did not play preseason. He was focused on rehab and weight loss. Chen Yan chose not to disturb him.
…
October 30.
Phoenix finally opened the season at home, and the opponent felt like the league could not resist the drama.
The Cleveland Cavaliers.
A rematch of last season's Finals.
In the locker room, Barnes joked with a grin, "If that bastard LeBron tries to run into the restricted area holding the ball like it's football, I'm dragging him and the ball down with me."
Chen Yan laughed. A full season later, Barnes still did not like James.
The Suns were loose before tip, almost too comfortable. They had a psychological edge you could measure. A few months earlier, they swept Cleveland 4 to 0 in the Finals.
Then it was time for introductions.
David Stern walked out to center court. He was not there for the game. He was there for the rings.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Stern said, "today is an unforgettable day for Phoenix. First, congratulations to Mike D'Antoni, receiving his championship ring as head coach. Next, congratulations to Finals MVP Chen Yan, your 1st Finals MVP and your 1st championship ring. And congratulations to every player and staff member of the Phoenix Suns. Congratulations to you all."
One by one, the Suns received their rings and slipped them on.
The new additions, Novak, White Chocolate Williams, and DeAndre, watched with open envy. They were not eligible. They had not been there for the run.
But the most envious person in the building was not wearing a Suns uniform.
The broadcast cut to LeBron.
Two straight Finals appearances. Two straight sweeps.
If anyone on that floor wanted a ring badly, it was him. He tried to keep his face neutral, but desire has a way of leaking through the cracks.
During the ring ceremony speeches, LeBron looked like he was forcing himself to breathe.
Then Chen Yan took the microphone.
He looked at the ring, turned it slightly as if inspecting it, and smiled.
"This ring means a lot to me," Chen Yan said. "But right now, my finger still feels a little empty. How should I say it… I think it would look a lot better if I could put another one on it next year."
...
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