"The hope ain't great, but there's still a shot. If Zhao Dong keeps putting up numbers and the New York media hypes him enough, he might squeeze in as a starter. If it doesn't happen this year, we'll push harder next season."
Ernie Grunfeld leaned back, crossing his arms.
Dave Checketts, the Knicks' president, nodded. "If we really see Zhao Dong as the guy to take over after Ewing, we gotta go all-in. Doesn't matter if it's a long shot—we do it."
(TL: I found out the real president of the Knicks by asking my friends and confirming it on Google. I'll now change Grace to Dave Checketts. Just to clarify, Dave Checketts was the CEO of MSG and the president of the Knicks, but the actual owners were the Dolans.)
"No doubt he's the next cornerstone," Grunfeld said, fired up. "Look, compared to Allan Houston, this is Zhao Dong's city. The Knicks are his team. He's got the talent, the mentality, and he wants to stay here. Of course, being 'the guy' takes time, but we're setting him up for it."
Grunfeld leaned forward. "Ewing's dipped a little this season, but he's still solid—still giving us 20 and 10. If he stays healthy, he's got another three, maybe four seasons left. In that time, Zhao Dong will level up, and that's our window to chase a title."
"Then it's settled," Checketts said, slamming his hand on the table. "Ernie, today's the deadline. Get his name on the ballot, hit up the media, and start building momentum."
---
Zhao Dong got the news later that day—he was officially on the All-Star ballot as a starting forward. No surprise, that had him hyped.
He knew Ewing was supposed to start, but injuries caught up to him, forcing him to miss the game. This was also Ewing's last-ever All-Star selection.
By noon the next day, the league officially opened All-Star voting. Right on cue, New York media started pushing Zhao Dong's name hard.
The Knicks had two days off before heading to Houston for a showdown with the Rockets on the 14th. After that, they had an even bigger road game on the 21st—against the Bulls.
Zhao Dong had already had plenty of back-and-forths with Barkley and Jordan, and the media couldn't wait for the drama.
"Who's the real Barkley?"
After Zhao Dong dominated Chris Webber last game, the New York Sports Daily hyped him up even more.
"Is Zhao Dong a bigger, badder Barkley or just a discount version? Tomorrow night's game will decide."
Even the Los Angeles Times jumped in, stirring the pot.
The Rockets were sitting at 27-9, slightly behind the Knicks at 28-7, but record-wise, that didn't tell the full story. The Rockets, with Hakeem, Barkley, and Drexler, had legit Big Three firepower. On paper, they were stronger.
Zhao Dong was laying low at the Knicks' training facility, but the media still found him. The two reporters who traveled with the team weren't leaving him alone, practically camping out to get a quote. Eventually, after finishing his afternoon workout on the 12th, he gave in.
"Zhao Dong, what's your mindset heading into the game against Houston?" Thomas, the Knicks' beat reporter, asked.
Zhao Dong knew he wasn't on Barkley's level yet, but that didn't mean he was gonna back down—especially not with his trash talk.
He smirked. "I like the Suns' chances to win the West this season. They finally got rid of the dead weight, and now they've got some good young guys. Some folks are gonna regret leaving."
"Pfft!"
The reporters busted out laughing.
---
Barkley wasn't laughing.
When reporters told him what Zhao Dong said, he lost it. "That little punk! Man, I swear, I ain't riding nobody's coattails! Hakeem's just our top scorer this—Wait, hold up! No, no, no! Stop recording, alright? Timeout, timeout! Let's start over."
But it was too late—the reporters were already rolling.
Barkley groaned. "No, no, that's not what I meant! Look, I ain't no sidekick, alright? I'm just... I'm just chasing a ring before I hang 'em up..."
He kept stammering, trying to spin it, but the damage was done. He knew the optics—he left Phoenix for a ring, and now a rookie was clowning him for it. The worst part? He couldn't even talk back without making it worse.
---
The next morning, on the 13th, the Knicks took off for Houston.
Zhao Dong was chilling on the plane when his system hit him with three new tasks. The first one was a team sniper mission.
The moment he saw it, he knew—this game was about to be a problem.
Anytime the system dropped a sniper mission on him, it meant the Knicks were in bad shape. Usually, it meant someone—probably Ewing—wasn't gonna be at full strength.
The last few times this happened, Ewing played way below his usual level. Given his age and nagging injuries, it wouldn't be surprising if history repeated itself tomorrow.
Team Sniper Mission: Lead the team to a win.
Reward: 5 skill points, 5 quality points.
"Ten points in total—not bad. But winning? That's gonna be tough."
He knew how good this Rockets squad was. In NBA history rankings, the Lakers and Celtics sat in the top tier, while the Knicks were in the fifth tier, tied with the Mavericks with two titles each.
But this season? Houston was no joke. Hakeem was still elite, Barkley could still hoop, and Drexler was dangerous. The Knicks didn't match up well.
With Ewing likely to be limited, Zhao Dong wasn't sure how they could pull off the upset.
And then there was his matchup with Barkley. Right now, he knew Barkley was stronger. So how the hell was he gonna win this battle?
No clue.
He put that thought on hold and checked the second mission.
---
Hall of Fame Sniper Mission:
"Charles Barkley is gonna try to put you on your ass and call you his son. You might be cool with that, but the system ain't. Shut him down."
Mission Options:
Drop 30 points and 10 rebounds on 50% shooting.
Dunk on Barkley three times.
Block Barkley three times.
Hit Barkley five times (intentional or not).
Mission Reward: 1 quality point per completed challenge. Complete all four to unlock "Barkley's Big Butt".
"...The hell is this?"
Zhao Dong almost choked when he read the last part.
"Yo, what's wrong with you?"
Oakley, sitting next to him, pulled off his headphones.
"Oh? Uh, nothing. Just heard a weird-ass song," Zhao Dong said, scrambling for an excuse.
Oakley shrugged. "Keep it down. Everyone's trying to sleep."
"Yeah, yeah, got it," Zhao Dong muttered.
He put his headphones back on and stopped thinking about Barkley's damn "big butt." Instead, he opened the third mission.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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