Hearing that self-introduction, Snoopy and Russell Westbrook both froze in embarrassment.
Predicting another team's loss behind their backs was never a polite thing to do—especially when the people involved actually heard it.
"I'm sorry," Snoopy quickly apologized. "That was just my personal opinion—it doesn't affect the outcome of the game. Coach Stan Van Gundy is an excellent leader. I'm sure he'll handle this game calmly. In fact, I really admire his 'half-circle offense.' I honestly think it's the system that suits me best."
"Oh?" Otis Smith raised an eyebrow again. "You actually know about Coach Van Gundy's half-circle system?"
"Yes. As you know, I'm about to enter the draft. My projection isn't great—I could be picked by any team, or missed by all of them. So, I studied the tactical systems of every NBA team carefully. And coincidentally, the two teams playing tonight are both on my list of best fits."
Snoopy spoke earnestly. "That's why I came to Orlando a day early."
Otis's eyebrow stayed raised. "Then tell me—why do you think you're a good fit for the Orlando Magic?"
"Because of Coach Van Gundy's half-circle offense! It's a unique variation of the four-out-one-in system—completely different from Coach Don Nelson's or Coach Mike D'Antoni's versions. The Warriors and Suns' lineups sacrifice rebounding for speed, focusing on transition offense.
But Orlando's version builds everything around Dwight Howard—giving him space for rebounds and help defense. That's why the Magic dominate the league in rebounding."
Otis nodded, gesturing for him to continue.
"In Van Gundy's defensive system, the perimeter defense is similar to the Spurs'—forcing opponents to the baseline. That lets Dwight get easier blocks and steals. I was one of the best shot blockers in the NCAA. I even forced Michael Beasley to stop attacking the paint. My rim protection efficiency was top-ranked in the national tournament last season. I could back Dwight up perfectly."
"And I can play alongside him. My lower-body strength can help him hold position against stronger opponents, making his blocks easier. Plus, I'm a capable passer—I can set him up to soar higher and dunk harder."
Snoopy looked at Otis Smith with complete sincerity.
"You've got my attention," Otis finally said, reaching out to shake his hand. "I'll make sure our scouts keep a close eye on you at the draft combine."
Then he smiled faintly.
"But your earlier prediction was wrong. I think the Magic will win tonight. Dwight's offensive skills are underrated."
Snoopy smiled awkwardly.
After that, watching the rest of the game felt tense.
He didn't know that everything he'd said had been overheard by none other than Stan Van Gundy himself.
Van Gundy, however, didn't interrupt—the game was far too intense. The two teams were locked in a physical war, especially in the paint—it looked like a meat grinder.
The sheer defensive intensity left Westbrook gasping in amazement.
Snoopy couldn't help thinking, If I were in Dwight's position, could I withstand those brutal collisions from Rasheed Wallace and Antonio McDyess?
The answer wasn't clear.
But then, with five seconds left on the clock, Rip Hamilton hit a sixteen-foot jumper.
81–78.
The Magic needed a three-pointer just to force overtime.
They didn't get it.
Nelson's rushed three-pointer missed. Dwight tipped in the rebound at the buzzer, but it only padded his stats—two more points and one more offensive rebound.
81–80.
Game over.
A sigh swept through Amway Arena.
The Detroit Pistons had taken a 3–1 lead in the series.
Snoopy and Westbrook had mixed feelings. On one hand, their prediction was right. On the other, Otis Smith sat next to them with a stone-cold expression.
It made everything painfully awkward.
So, as soon as the final buzzer sounded, they stood up to leave—
Until a voice called out behind them:
"Hey, that UCLA kid—yeah, you, Snoopy! Stop right there!"
Snoopy turned around. Stan Van Gundy was motioning him over.
Snoopy glanced at Westbrook, both exchanging uneasy looks.
But Snoopy still stepped forward.
Van Gundy waved him onto the court, calling the whole team together.
"Come here, kid. Tell us—why did we lose this game?"
Snoopy froze. He looked around—every player was staring at him with decidedly unfriendly eyes.
But when his gaze met Van Gundy's, he saw a hint of approval and encouragement.
Snoopy was quick on the uptake. He realized Van Gundy wanted him to voice something the coach couldn't say outright.
Still… he wasn't stupid. Telling the truth would definitely offend someone.
"Just speak as an ordinary spectator," Van Gundy suggested.
Snoopy steadied himself, then spoke:
"As a fan, I'm honored to witness such a high-level game. Every player gave their all—I could feel the pride and sweat you poured out for this city's honor."
"Dwight's battles in the paint were breathtaking. Every collision, every push showed his passion—for basketball, for victory, for Orlando."
"And Jameer Nelson—each time he charged fearlessly into bigger defenders, it reminded me of David facing Goliath. That courage deserves respect."
"Turkoglu, Rashard Lewis—you both struck from midrange and deep range, using intelligence and precision to dismantle defenses…"
Snoopy's words softened the atmosphere.
Even after the loss, the players felt comforted—everyone likes being praised.
Nelson puffed his chest. Yeah, I'm like David—an undersized hero.
Dwight even smiled, nodding: Right—I'm full of love for this game.
Van Gundy cleared his throat.
"Ahem. And… any weaknesses?"
Snoopy grinned.
"Well… I think Dwight takes too much responsibility on offense. He shoulders all the pressure himself. Maybe he should share some of those touches with the perimeter players. Turkoglu could feed him more high lobs over defenders instead of forcing post-ups."
"And Nelson—brave as he is—should avoid some of those suicide drives. Sometimes letting Turkoglu orchestrate at a slower, more rhythmic pace could be more effective."
He stopped there.
It was exactly what Van Gundy had been preaching before the game—but coming from Snoopy, it sounded fresh.
Van Gundy smiled slightly. Snoopy had just said everything he wanted to say—but without the players getting defensive.
Snoopy finished with a clenched fist.
"You've got this! I believe you guys can still create miracles."
He waved, then turned to leave.
Everyone looked at him with admiration.
"What a great kid," Dwight said.
"Yeah," Nelson added. "We should get him to Orlando. He'd love Disney World."
Van Gundy stared at them fondly—and a little helplessly. You guys didn't even realize he just roasted you, did you?
Still, the coach's mind was made up.
Later, in the locker room, after summarizing the loss (and calling out both Howard and Nelson by name), Van Gundy headed straight to the postgame press conference. Then, he and Otis Smith met in the film room to watch the scouting footage of Snoopy.
When the final clip ended—Snoopy holding up the MOP trophy—Van Gundy clapped.
"We need this guy," he said firmly. "He fits my half-circle system perfectly. His shot-blocking and rebounding will sync seamlessly with Dwight. His lower-body strength lets him defend 65% of NBA post players—something Dwight struggles with. And he's got playmaking instincts Dwight doesn't."
"Honestly, if he were just ten centimeters taller, he'd be one of the best fits for this system—second only to Howard."
Van Gundy's tone was absolute.
"He's smart, articulate—and just from a few words, Dwight and Nelson already said they'd adjust their play. I don't care how—Snoopy must be on our roster next season."
Otis Smith was stunned.
What do you want me to do—trade for a lottery pick?
Later that night, at home, Smith checked draft projections online.
Snoopy "Snoopy" was expected to go as high as 19th overall.
Smith exhaled. Looks like I'll have to start calling the Warriors at #14… or the Sixers at #16.