It wasn't often Dawson came back to Gainesville. After things wrapped up at the gym, Donovan specially invited him to visit the University of Florida again.
Inside the Gators' team history hall, Dawson bent down to study a slightly yellowed team photo behind the glass.
It was taken after the 1993–94 season.
In the front row, right next to head coach Lon Kruger, sat a grinning kid with an afro — himself.
"You still keep in touch with them?" Donovan asked.
Dawson shook his head.
Sensing the trace of melancholy on Dawson's face, Donovan sighed. "Looking back now, if you'd gone straight into the draft with Andrew in '95, things might have turned out completely different."
In '93, Dawson had arrived at the University of Florida.
The undisputed centerpiece of the team then was power forward Andrew DeClercq.
Coach Kruger valued Dawson highly, wanting him and DeClercq to form a one-inside, one-outside duo that could change the team's fortunes.
And it worked.
Dawson had speed and could attack the rim. DeClercq set great screens. Together, they led the team to the NCAA Final Four in their first season — the program's first return to March Madness in years.
The following year, the team made the tournament again.
That was the year DeClercq graduated and entered the draft. An agent even approached Dawson, urging him to declare as well — but Dawson turned it down.
That one decision cost him his last real shot at the NBA.
"There's no such thing as 'what if,'" Dawson said with a bitter smile.
He knew his own situation. That Final Four run had been fueled by DeClercq's breakout season and the fact that Dawson was a freshman no one had scouted properly yet.
By his second year, his lack of elite physical gifts was glaring.
If he had declared for the draft then, it wouldn't have been as rosy as Donovan imagined — most likely, he'd still have gone undrafted.
Just look at DeClercq — better tools than Dawson, and he was only taken 34th overall.
The next two years brought injuries. He lost even more of his speed. The NBA door was shut.
Donovan, sensing the mood, didn't press further.
He brought Dawson to his office, poured him a cup of coffee, and changed the topic to Brown.
"Tom, do you know much about Brown?"
Dawson shook his head.
He'd only heard the name — didn't know the details.
Donovan sighed. "The kid's had it rough."
He'd been following Kwame Brown for years and knew his story inside and out.
Just as Dawson suspected, it was tragic.
Brown was the seventh of eight children. His father, Willie James, was a piece of work — drugs, alcohol, domestic violence.
When Brown was seven, his mother, Joyce, couldn't take it anymore and filed for divorce.
It was the right call — the next year, Willie James was convicted of murdering his girlfriend and sentenced to life in prison.
Joyce moved back to her hometown of Brunswick, now a single mother raising eight children on her own.
It was a struggle beyond imagining. All of Brown's older brothers ended up in trouble with the law, one after another landing in prison.
For Brown to stay on the straight path and fulfill his talent enough to become a top draft prospect was nothing short of miraculous.
"Thank John — he's the one who pulled Brown back on track," Donovan said with feeling.
Dawson understood now. No wonder John Williams looked at Brown the way he did. And during the negotiations, Brown had constantly deferred to Williams.
In Brown's mind, Williams was basically his father now.
Donovan went on, "Tom, Brown's a good kid. He knows he's not fully ready yet — he should really spend a few more years developing in college. But his family's situation is too bad. He wants to get to the NBA as soon as possible to support them."
Donovan's expression was earnest.
It made Dawson feel a little awkward.
He'd talked a big game earlier, which must have given Donovan the impression that his training camp business was doing so well he wouldn't put much energy into this job. That's why Donovan had taken him aside for this heart-to-heart.
"Don't worry, Billy. I know what needs to be done."
Dawson didn't need the reminder — he was going to throw himself into this gig regardless.
Brown's future was on the line. And so was his own.
Not to mention — the money.
Thirty grand for one month!
Under Dawson's push, Brown's team agreed to the price hike.
For $30,000, Dawson would not only help Brown bulk up, but also teach him post-up skills.
At first, Conners refused. His wallet was tight.
When Dawson insisted, Conners countered with a condition — Brown would only pay the full $30,000 if he became the No. 1 pick.
No way Dawson would agree.
Buying a weight-loss course doesn't guarantee you'll drop the pounds — how could training promise a draft slot?
After some back-and-forth, it was Brown himself who offered to cover the extra $10,000.
The kid's fame had already brought in sponsorships. He'd even bought a house near Donovan's place. At nineteen, he could afford it.
At nineteen, Dawson hadn't even had a thousand dollars in his account — let alone a house.
Leaving UF and returning to his shabby motel, Dawson didn't waste any time.
Tomorrow, training would officially begin.
One month — until the end of May.
Then in June, Brown would spend his time working out for a handful of lottery teams.
A prospect like him would never bother with the draft combine.
The schedule was tight — especially for the weight gain.
And like Dawson always said, putting on muscle wasn't as simple as "just eat more."
He pulled up the system, whispered "simulate," and in a blink, his consciousness entered a vast, empty space.
This was the system's most powerful feature.
Dawson adjusted the controls — Brown appeared before him.
The system could scan a subject's physical condition and recreate it exactly in the simulation space.
That was just the basic function. The real strength of "simulation" was that it could apply any training plan Dawson designed and project the results of up to ten days of work.
In other words, Dawson could design a program, run it in the system, and see exactly how effective it would be.
If it worked well, great. If not, he could tweak it and run another sim — refining until he had the most effective plan possible.
It was insanely powerful.
Right now, the first thing Dawson needed was to simulate an injection cycle.
One month to put on ten pounds — and have Brown fully adapt without losing athleticism?
In Dawson's mind, there was almost no way to do it without… pharmaceutical help.