Madrid, Spain – December 2014
The van rolled through quiet streets.
Eli Mercer sat in the back, hoodie up, headphones in.
Luis beside him, scrolling through clips.
"They're gonna ask about the logo shots."
Eli nodded.
"I'll talk about those."
"Not the full court?"
Eli looked out the window.
"That's for later."
Luis didn't press.
He never did.
TV Studio – Spanish National Sports Network
The green room buzzed with soft chatter and makeup brushes.
Eli sat still, hands folded, eyes closed.
Breathing in.
Holding.
Releasing.
A producer tapped his shoulder.
"You're on in five."
Coach Ortega leaned in.
"Just be you."
Eli nodded.
Live Broadcast – Segment One
The host was sharp.
Tailored suit. Perfect smile.
"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome Eli Mercer—Madrid Juniors' rising star. Fifteen years old. Undefeated in December. Shooting 100% from the field. How?"
Eli adjusted the mic.
"I shoot every morning. Every zone. Every angle."
"Even from the logo?"
"Especially from the logo."
"And you've never missed in a game?"
"Not yet."
Segment Two – Clip Breakdown
They played footage—logo threes, sideline fadeaways, defenders scrambling.
"You're not just accurate. You're surgical."
Eli nodded.
"I map the court. I shoot until it's automatic."
"You don't celebrate. You don't trash talk. Why?"
"I'm not done yet."
The host leaned in.
"You're fifteen."
"Exactly."
Segment Three – Personal Questions
"What do your parents think?"
"They're proud. They still remind me to eat vegetables."
"Do you miss home?"
"Sometimes. But I'm building something here."
"What's your goal?"
Eli looked into the camera.
"To be ready. For whatever comes."
Post-Interview – Studio Exit
Coach Ortega clapped him on the back.
"You didn't freeze."
Eli shrugged.
"I just answered."
Luis grinned.
"You're trending again."
Eli checked his phone.
#LogoMercer
#TheMap
#100Percent
He didn't post.
He just set his alarm for 4:45 AM.
Next Morning – Gym Lights On
Eli stood at the far baseline.
Ball in hand.
Court empty.
He bounced once.
Turned.
Breathed.
Full court shot.
Release.
Swish.
He didn't smile.
He didn't record.
He just walked to the next zone.