After the team finished having breakfast in the hotel restaurant, the Wildcats players immediately gathered their sports bags containing their athletic gear to then board the bus that would take them to the facilities where they would do their sports practice.
Once inside the bus, the players proceeded to take their seats, but one of the players there was glaring fiercely at Aaron's back, as if he were going to pierce right through him with his eyes.
"Still upset?" Aaron asked, turning around and seeing how Julius kept a deep frown in his direction, completely undisposed to speak to him as he turned his head toward the window.
"If you keep acting like that, then I suppose you don't mind if I don't give you any passes in the game against Michigan tonight," Aaron said, turning his head back around to the front while Julius's expression showed a slight sign of hesitation at his comment.
In the last two games, it had become clear that Coach Calipari was creating the game plan around Aaron, which meant that the majority of the planned plays or strategies passed through his hands.
In other words, that meant that if Aaron decides not to give you the ball, you practically end up isolating yourself from the team itself, and your statistics will drop.
Before Julius could even say anything else, Aaron let out a soft chuckle before speaking to him again. "I'm just joking, man, I'm not that petty," he told him, causing Julius to swallow the words he was about to say and lean back against his seat.
After that, the trajectory on the bus continued without complications until they finally arrived at the Berto Center, which is the training center where the Chicago Bulls team practiced.
Outside the entrance, a member of the Bulls' staff was waiting for them at the door. He didn't hesitate to shake Coach Calipari's hand the moment the coach stepped off the bus, subsequently guiding them inside the training center.
Inside the facilities, the Bulls logo could be seen in various areas, while there was also a wall filled with old newspaper clippings detailing the golden era of the Bulls in the 90s.
"And right through here is where you will be able to do your practice for your game tonight," the staff member told them as he pushed open a door that led them directly to the area where the basketball courts were located.
"Swish" was the sound that began to be heard once inside, which belonged to someone who was already inside the facilities practicing their free throws.
"Jimmy, back at it already?" the staff member asked, showing no surprise in his tone upon seeing a team player out there on the court.
Without saying a word, Jimmy simply turned his head slightly and nodded in direction toward the staff member, completely ignoring the group that accompanied him as he concentrated entirely on his training routine.
"Man, it's Jimmy Butler," Andrew Harrison said to his twin, who also nodded his head, remembering that this was the very same player who had played a game in front of thousands of people just the night before.
"Don't worry about him, he practically lives here and in the weight room," the staff member told them, watching as Butler continued practicing his shot as if the rest of the people there didn't exist at that moment.
"As long as you don't disturb him, there won't be any problems, so it's best if you stay on the court over in the far corner," the staff member said, pointing them toward the other court located adjacent to where Jimmy was training.
"If you need anything else, don't hesitate to let me know," the staff member told them before exiting through the same door he entered, leaving the Wildcats players to their training session.
"All right, boys, change out and get ready for practice," Calipari said as the players directed themselves toward the locker room inside the facilities to change their clothes.
After 5 minutes, the players returned, fully ready to begin their warm-ups and start practicing the plays they had engineered against the Spartans.
"Let's begin," Calipari said, signaling the start of the drills and a light warm-up in preparation for tomorrow's game.
While the players were practicing their jump shots and off-ball movements, a person slowly opened the door, watching attentively as the entire training session unfolded under Coach Calipari's command.
That person was none other than Derrick Rose, who had his face obscured beneath the hood of his sweatshirt while paying attention to each and every single play the players were executing.
Watching this entire training session with Coach Calipari commanding the floor triggered a profound surge of nostalgia inside him as he recalled his days playing for the Memphis Tigers under Coach Calipari's guidance.
At one point, he watched as the player wearing the number 15 jersey received the ball deep below the rim, with one defender draped tightly over his back and another collapsing hard from the weak side, perfectly positioned to strip the ball away at the slightest hint of carelessness.
What happened next completely caught him off guard. He naturally expected the player in question to use his physical force to bully his way through both defenders and force a powerful slam against the rim.
Instead, contrary to what he thought, the young player executed a pass fake to one side, completely freezing the collapsing defender, before swiftly spinning in the opposite direction. He elevated smoothly into a mid-range turnaround jumper, causing one of his defenders to jump perfectly with him, throwing both hands high into the air in a desperate attempt to contest the shot.
At the absolute apex of his vertical leap, Rose noticed how the boy's upper body leaned back just enough to alter his center of gravity, maintaining perfect balance at the peak of his release to launch a soft, high-arcing shot while absorbing the full physical contact of the defender before returning to the hardwood.
"And one!" barked technical assistant Orlando Antigua, swiftly blowing his whistle and pointing Aaron straight to the free-throw line.
Aaron calmly caught the ball from the coach, went through his brief routine, and released a fluid stroke. Swish. The ball traveled cleanly through the net once more.
Without being able to help himself, Derrick Rose began to clap slowly. The sound of his deliberate applause resonated clearly across the gym, causing every single eye in the facility to instantly pivot toward the hooded figure leaning casually against the doorway.
"That play was excellent, kid," Rose said, looking intently at Aaron.
For a brief moment, Aaron stood frozen on the hardwood, not entirely sure how to react to suddenly being praised face-to-face by one of the premier superstars in the NBA.
The exact same jaw-dropped reaction spread like wildfire across the rest of the Wildcats roster. The scrimmage ground to a complete halt as the players realized that an absolute icon of the league was standing mere feet away from them on their practice floor.
"I see you finally made it," Calipari said with a warm grin, walking over to Rose to give him a firm, masculine handshake before drawing his former player into a tight, brotherly side-hug, affectionately patting him on the back.
Despite only playing a single collegiate season under Calipari's command—a historic freshman campaign filled with intense competitive friction and high-stakes pressure—Rose still maintained the utmost respect for the coach standing before him. Calipari was, after all, one of the primary architects responsible for unlocking his potential and helping him reach the professional heights he now occupied.
"Coach," Rose responded respectfully, breaking the embrace to look over the assembly of young players, who looked completely starstruck, as if a cat had firmly caught their tongues.
"Come on, guys, I don't bite," Rose said, completely breaking the ice with a relaxed, charismatic smile. He bent down and casually picked up one of the stray basketballs resting near the sideline.
As if that single sentence had suddenly snapped them out of their collective trance, the players immediately swarmed forward, launching a barrage of questions without stopping. Rose, entirely accustomed to the absolute madness of media frenzies, responded with total calm and humility to each inquiry.
"And I can see you guys aren't half bad yourselves," Rose noted smoothly, spinning the ball effortlessly across his fingertips before suddenly gathering his stance, rising into the air, and launching a flawless, effortless jumper from deep beyond the NBA three-point line. The ball snapped the net cleanly, provoking a chorus of excited exclamations from the college players.
"Hey Derrick, you want to run a game with us?" Willie Cauley-Stein asked suddenly, an incredibly eager and excited grin plastered across his face as he openly坦 envisioned playing directly against an elite NBA superstar.
Coach Calipari immediately stepped forward, about to reprimand Willie and shut the idea down, knowing it wasn't tactically or physically prudent to risk anything before a major game. However, Rose was significantly faster to respond.
"Sure, man," Rose said with a chuckle. He pulled off his heavy hoodie and tossed it to the bench, revealing a gray athletic tank top underneath.
"How about a little two-on-two?" Rose suggested, his sharp gaze shifting across the gym floor toward the adjacent hoop where Jimmy Butler was still methodically putting up shots. "Hey Jimmy! What do you say, you want to join the fun?"
Across the gym, Butler stopped his shooting motion mid-release. For the first time since the Wildcats had arrived, he let the ball bounce away, completely breaking his intense isolation. Without uttering a single word, Jimmy simply wiped his brow with a towel, walked over to where the group was gathered, and silently stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Rose, making it perfectly clear that he was fully onboard with the challenge.
"Alright, do you boys accept?" Rose asked with a competitive smirk, spinning the ball on his index finger.
Not wanting to waste a single second of this surreal opportunity, the Wildcats immediately began pairing up, while Coach Antigua quickly organized a draft order to see who would have the honor of facing the professional duo first.
"Oh yeah!" Andrew Harrison exclaimed, high-fiving his twin brother Aaron Harrison as they successfully managed to secure the first slot in the rotation, quickly jogging out onto the court and squaring up into defensive positions.
"This will be a game straight to five points. Strict freeze on any rough play, excessive hacking, or malicious fouls," Orlando warned with absolute seriousness, casting a stern, unyielding gaze directly at his own players.
Everyone in the gym understood the underlying stakes. Both Jimmy and Derrick carried massive professional contracts with very specific, legally binding insurance clauses regarding off-court or unauthorized injuries—especially Rose, who had recently signed a massive five-year, near $\$100\text{ million}$ maximum contract extension with the Chicago Bulls.
The primary anxiety weighing heavily on the Bulls' front office was the fact that shortly after signing that historic contract, Rose had suffered a catastrophic torn ACL, causing him to tragically miss the entirety of the previous NBA season.
"Alright, let's go," Rose said, slightly flexing his knees and dropping into a low, textbook defensive stance. Jimmy mirrored him instantly, locking his eyes onto his assignment as they checked the ball out to the Harrison twins.
The game was over in less than three minutes. If the entire sequence could be summarized in a single, definitive word, it would be massacre. The tandem of Rose and Butler showed absolutely zero mercy to the college guards, ruthlessly executing a flawless $5-0$ shutout without conceding a single bucket.
It was a brutal, immediate demonstration of the vast, astronomical gulf that existed between players operating at an elite professional level and those who were still merely adapting to the speed of the collegiate circuit.
The Wildcats' incoming freshmen might have been consensus five-star recruits and the absolute kings of their high school classes, but in front of established NBA pros, those accolades meant absolutely nothing. The reality check was stark and undeniable.
Following the twins, the next groups of players stepped up to the challenge, only to suffer virtually identical fates. The sole exception was Willie Cauley-Stein's duo, who managed to utilize their length to score two hard-fought points against the pros before ultimately falling in a swift $5-2$ decision.
"Alright, who's next in line?" Rose asked, a warm, friendly smile on his face that, to the remaining players, now looked like the deceptive grin of an apex predator scanning its next prey. Throughout it all, Jimmy Butler simply stood solid as a rock, completely silent, his breathing barely elevated.
At that exact moment, every eye in the gym instantly locked onto Aaron and Julius, who were the final pair left on the list to play.
"Let's go, partner," Aaron said calmly, giving a motivating pat to Julius's back as both he and Julius stepped onto the basketball court, facing Derrick and Jimmy. Once inside, both teams got into position, with Derrick passing the ball to Aaron, starting the match.
Authors thought
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