From the moment Russell Westbrook slashed into the paint, the commentators at TNT were already screaming.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Look at Russell Westbrook! His physical gifts are unreal, his bounce, his burst, his coordination, his speed, absolutely perfect!"
"Oh my God, he actually pulled off that reverse layup against Dozier's defense!"
"Such a shame the shot was just a bit short. If it went in, it would've been one of the top five plays of the night!"
"Wow!! Whoa-ho!! Look, look what's happening on the court, Snoopy, it's Snoopy again! That harmless-looking little pup just devoured the Memphis monster! He actually posterized Joey Dorsey! That was an explosion of speed and power! Dorsey got careless, he forgot to box out! How could he ignore the bounce monster behind him?"
"Oh, what a tragedy. Poor Dorsey, sprawled out helplessly on the floor. This moment will go down in UCLA history forever. Just watch, this dunk will top tonight's highlights. Two UCLA players just showed off their freakish athleticism. Especially our little dog, Snoopy, when he bares his fangs, you'd never connect him with a business school honor student. He's crazier than a madman!"
"Guess what Snoopy said to Dorsey after that? Did he say, 'That's power,' or did he just tell him, 'You're trash'?"
When Charles Barkley threw out that question, the broadcast director quickly cued up the replay, there was a mic near the basket.
And through the roaring chaos of the crowd, all of America heard Snoopy's words:
"Unfortunately, you're no longer worthy to be my opponent."
Calm. Cold. Like a judge delivering an unappealable verdict.
For fifteen whole seconds, the TNT booth was silent. Then Kenny Smith broke it with awe in his voice:
"So that's how an honor student talks trash. Damn polite, and damn badass!"
"Maybe Dorsey's gonna need a therapist after the game," Barkley muttered.
Just then, the ever-composed Ernie Johnson suddenly shouted:
"Oh my God, look! What's Westbrook doing? Is he going straight for a steal on the projected No.1 pick?!"
Before he even finished, Westbrook had already smacked the ball loose.
The ball flew toward the sideline.
Kenny Smith sighed:
"So close! If Russell had been just a bit quicker, he might've gotten the steal outright. UCLA would've had the edge, up by two, "
"Oh my God!! Look at Snoopy! What's he doing?! He's diving headfirst like some wild kamikaze! Doesn't he know that's dangerous?!"
Charles Barkley screamed.
He was a tough guy, but even he thought Snoopy had gone too far, his dive was even riskier than Rodman's famous one.
But Snoopy got the ball.
He roared, "Russell!" and hurled it forward with all his might.
His body control was never great, so as soon as he passed, bang!
His head and shoulder slammed hard into the floor, the sound like a cannonball hitting wood.
At that moment, Doug (Snoopy) didn't feel pain. Just a foggy haze in his head, everything spinning.
Then came the deafening roar of the arena, Westbrook had dunked on the fast break.
And then he heard it again:
"Snoopy! Snoopy! Snoopy!"
Through the blur, a familiar face appeared before him, a sweet scent drifted into his nose, soothing and light.
Then, something soft brushed his forehead.
It was a gentle kiss, light as a feather.
But it sent a jolt through his mind like lightning, blood surging through his body, boom!
His legs tingled with power.
He opened his eyes to see Miley Cyrus kneeling beside him.
"Snoopy, you were amazing!"
Then she kissed his forehead again.
This time, it didn't feel quite as magical, just, awkward.
Especially since Westbrook, Kevin Love, Luc Mbah a Moute, and the team doctors were all standing around watching like gossiping schoolgirls.
Doug scrambled up, face red as a tomato.
"Are you okay?" veteran team doctor Jackson asked. "No dizziness? No concussion symptoms?"
Doug shook his head hard. "Nope!"
Jackson frowned. That hit had been brutal, by all rights, even a mild concussion was likely. Yet this kid was fine, still shaking his head like a bobblehead.
"Maybe, love really does heal," he muttered.
Beep!
Calipari called his final timeout.
1 minute and 19 seconds remained. Under NCAA's 35-second shot clock, that meant at least two possessions left.
But they were down by four, he had to draw something up.
Both teams headed to their benches.
On the jumbotron, the replay looped again, Snoopy diving like a missile, outpacing the ball's flight, catching it mid-air, and hurling it to the frontcourt. Westbrook snatched it, one step, one leap, boom, a single-handed slam.
Then Snoopy crashed right at the feet of the "three Disney princesses."
And in front of the entire roaring arena, his rumored girlfriend kissed him, twice.
The moment added a surprising touch of tenderness to the brutal game.
"Feels like I'm watching a teen drama," Kenny Smith joked. "And those lipstick marks on Snoopy's forehead? Way too bright to ignore."
"Another Top 5 Play right there," said Ernie Johnson, serious as ever. "The No.1 pick's spotlight is gone, Snoopy just stole the show. If this kid had even average ball-handling or coordination, he'd be a guaranteed lottery pick. With his bounce, burst, and relentless motor, what team wouldn't want him as a fierce bench weapon? And mentally? He's solid, Anderson School of Business student. No attitude issues, no street drama."
"If I were a GM," Barkley declared, "I'd use a lottery pick on him right now. Every draft's got busts, why not gamble on Snoopy? I love that kid!"
At that exact moment, in Los Angeles, Mitch Kupchak and Kobe Bryant looked at each other and said the same thing:
"We're drafting him."
Even Tex Winter didn't object this time.
When Snoopy dove for that ball, something clicked for him, he thought of Dennis Rodman, his old rebounding demon.
"Only problem," Jeanie Buss reminded, "is we've only got second-round picks this year. I'm worried someone else will grab him first."
"Then we trade up," Kupchak said confidently. "A late first-rounder, around pick 25, should be enough."
Meanwhile, UCLA coach Ben Howland held the whiteboard.
"Snoopy, Memphis is definitely going to send Derrick Rose attacking the rim. I'll assign you some help. Luc, be ready to collapse on him, "
Before he could finish, Doug cut him off.
"No. Luc needs to stay on Roberts. He's a dangerous scorer, you can't give him any room."
"I can handle Derrick Rose now."
Doug rubbed his calves, eyes firm, voice absolute.
Coach Howland raised an eyebrow, he didn't quite share that confidence.