I've grown very interested in you
For OJ Mayo, he no longer needed to prove himself as an individual scorer, his team had told him two weeks ago that what would impress NBA scouts more now was showing off his passing.
So he didn't choose to fly up and dunk himself; instead he lobbed the ball high, letting Taj Gibson finish the airborne relay dunk.
Gibson's athleticism was astonishing. The moment he saw the ball ascending, he took two quick steps, slammed his foot off the floor with all the power in his legs, and launched himself toward the ball.
He cut across UCLA's paint like an eagle, and the scouts at the sideline couldn't help but murmur praise.
What a jump. What an attacking instinct. What perfect hang time.
Gibson caught the ball amid the applause and hammered it toward the rim, everything seemed destined to go exactly as planned.
But… as he neared the hoop, Snoopy suddenly sprang out. He leapt straight up, attempting a block!
Perfect timing!
Taj Gibson thought to himself; he hadn't had a Top-5 highlight in a long time. If he could throw this little guy out of the arena, the NBA would very likely select this play among the day's Top-5. That kind of exposure would do wonders for his reputation.
So he arched his back in midair to generate even more downward force.
The scouts were ready to cheer for Gibson, and USC's crowd roared with expectation.
Then, in an instant, the unexpected happened.
Snoopy leapt at a speed beyond imagination. In the blink of an eye he exceeded Gibson's height , and his right palm smashed down hard on the ball.
Thud!
The heavy slap on the ball wasn't a crisp sound; it spoke only of raw force.
Gibson had meant to throw Snoopy out of the game, but now he couldn't control his center of gravity. After that brutal smack, he could no longer hold the ball, nor could he keep his balance.
The ball popped free.
His body plummeted; he stumbled back several steps before finally regaining his footing.
Humiliation was unavoidable.
And at the same time, Westbrook had taken the ball and sprinted upcourt. With OJ Mayo tracking him, Westbrook took a single step and, one-handed, slammed the ball through the hoop.
On offense Westbrook displayed his astonishing physical gifts. But Snoopy's defensive impact was even more eye-popping.
The contrast was simply too stark.
Gibson was ten centimeters taller and had a running start; yet he'd been rejected , literally yanked from the skies by a small dog who had jumped from a standstill.
"We struck gold," Nolan excitedly told Ben Holland at the sideline.
Ben Holland felt his chest swell. He was about to call a timeout himself when he realized USC's coach had already signaled first.
USC coach McCloughy had never dreamed UCLA would suddenly produce two monsters. Neither had been prominent before , especially Snoopy, a name no one had heard , but now he'd shown prehistoric-level defensive dominance. He had to make targeted adjustments.
Meanwhile Holland thought: I have to hide Snoopy. He's drawing too much attention. If the opponent studies him thoroughly before the national tournament, he'll lose the element of surprise.
"Snoopy, you don't seem like a rookie at all."
Defensive coach Nolan stepped forward and hugged Snoopy. "You're everywhere on defense. You fill the paint with muscle, I tip my hat to you! You're the most talented defensive rookie I've ever seen!"
"Thanks for the praise, Coach Nolan."
Back on the bench, Holland decisively announced Snoopy would come out to rest.
Luke Bamott, who'd been nervous, brightened immediately , proof the coach hadn't entirely given up on him. Holland also sent Darren Collison and Holiday back in.
The substitution puzzled offensive coach Cole: Snoopy and Westbrook were working so well together on both ends, why take them out now?
Westbrook himself was unhappy. He felt he was just coming into rhythm and didn't deserve the bench.
Snoopy, however, looked relaxed and took the last seat on the bench without complaint; playing time meant little to him.
He only asked Leon Bob: "You sure I only get to drink this sour, puckery nutrition water?"
That was the only thing about the game that bothered him.
"Yes." Leon Bob answered firmly. "You only drink that. Just like you only operate inside the paint for now."
"Work hard, Snoopy. If you can expand your range to the free-throw line, maybe you'll make the NBA."
Leon Bob said it seriously. But Snoopy leaned back and crossed his legs. He had no concept of the NBA.
Then a rotund figure appeared. Edward had somehow sidled up, grinning: "Snoopy, is this your first game?"
For Edward this was a crucial question.
Leon Bob answered for him: "Yes. Any specific questions?"
Edward thanked the heavens, then added, "I'm a proper, certified scout. I'm very interested in you. But NCAA databases have almost no info. Could you give me more physical data? How tall are you? What's your wingspan…?"
He hadn't finished when Snoopy pointed at Leon Bob: "Ask him. Apart from the size of my little friend, he knows every physical stat about me , even the circumference of my knee."