Daniel wasn't a man who often felt nerves. He'd played in front of tens of thousands, stared down future pros, survived hostile gyms where the air itself turned against you. But this morning was different. His hands were steady, his voice calm, yet something coiled under his ribs. The truth was, everyone felt it. Even Marcus, whose grin usually swallowed every room, kept flashing small cracks – a glance too long, a pause too sharp.
Today was the day their misfit gang arrived.
It also marked the second stage of their journey. Turns out the school year in Japan starts in March, and they were already late in April. That means they were not on time for the first Japanese high school tournament. Because of this, and the content of their team's character too, Michiko pushed a pivot: stay in the States for some time, regroup, build chemistry. By the time they landed in Tokyo, they wouldn't be strangers – they'd be a team; or they wouldn't even go there.
They have rented out some space in a 4 star hotel here in the outskirts of LA. It has a huge territory and all necessary athletic facilities. Their whole office had been relocated here the previous week. Now they had three indoor basketball courts, five smaller outside, fully equipped gym, olympic size swimming pool, and more.
Out of nowhere he felt a sting of jealousy, since he didn't have anything of this caliber back in college.
Besides this, their Japanese billionaire friend had arranged for a transfer here from Los Angeles International Airport for their kids. A whole cortege of all black Mercedes S222's. Michiko had said it was part of the strategy. Don't tell the kids that their employers were real big shots, show them. Make them feel how serious everything is. It decreases the likelihood of them crashing out.
First came giants from Africa. Aliir Deng looked almost sickly skinny. Seems like all the calories his body took in went on his height. Luckily they already had a meal plan prepared for him. Some of Dr. Lang's past flings. A dietologist guy who prepared meal plans for some NBA guys. They actually had meal plans prepared for everyone before-hand. Moreover, Deng will probably be one of the guys with whom Marcus will be spending most of the time in the gym and the swimming pool. The boy needs to put on some muscles and improve his tendons and joints. Otherwise, his height will turn from blessing into curse.
Jean-Batiste Biha was even taller, but also older, and had a better body shape. Since he was 16, it looks like he won't be growing upwards much anymore, and instead his body will focus on growing sideways. Judging by his shoulders, it appears that the process had already started. So, most probably I will be more responsible for his future development skill-wise.
Outside of physical stats, the kids looked normal. Dark skin, dark eyes, white teeth. Deng had a short afro, while Biha sported a cleanly shaved head. They had worries that they were much older than their documents suggested, but it wasn't the case. Some baby fat on their faces didn't leave completely yet, however Biha already had some signs of a beard spurring out soon. Both of them looked very nervous.
After them came Novak. The boy looked like an overgrown baby. Tall but plump, with slight red marks on his pale skin, he looked like a peach. He wore a simple white shirt and straight jeans with some Japanese sneakers. He had an undercut, which was popular among kids in Europe. Coach K had muttered about him looking like someone from Hitlerjugend. He could see the vision, tall, pale white, blond, blue eyes. Remove the fat, and he would be a blood purity posterboy. However, the fat indicated one more important thing. He would probably grow a lot taller in the upcoming couple of years, Dr. Lang said it was common among teenagers from Dinaric Alps. She judged that he might have 3 to 5 more inches in him. Character wise, he was quite pleasant with all smiles and cheers.
Fourth the car brought Tyrone Mason. A light skin from Compton. Can't imagine what his neighbours thought when they saw an all black S class with a personal driver taking the kid from home. Not gonna lie, Tyrone did his name justice. Tall frame, full muscles, chiseled jaw, handsome face and waves on his head. He was wearing a purple and gold LA Lakers outfit with purple low Jordan dunks on his feet. Another thing that didn't escape them was the way he exchanged glances with some of the female hotel workers. He threw in some smirks and winks into the whole thing. Yeah, the kid was ready to be a man, if he wasn't already.
Fifth came Jesus. Looking at him only one word came to mind. Cholo. Everything about his style screamed Cholo. Baseball cap on his head, black bandana hanging below his chin, Pendleton shirt buttoned only up top over a white T-shirt, wide cargo shorts, long white NBA socks, and white Nike Cortez on his feet. Regarding his face the most striking features were large dark eyes and a thin fluff of hair over his upper lip.
Then came the Russian kid. He had an oversized baggy black hoodie and baggy black pants, with Adidas Sambo shoes. He had long pale blond hair. He didn't expect it, but in person his intimidating size and aura was completely negated by sharp and feminine face, which made him look completely harmless. Make him three inches shorter and he would pass for a female Russian model. Seeing him for the first time you won't even think that he is a fucking psycho.
The last came Ector Troy. The air around him screamed – intense. Marcus laughed that the kid was an embodiment of black air force energy, especially after noticing what he wore – All Black Nike Air Forces. He wore a regular white hoodie and knock-off balmain jeans. His hair was tied into two long french braids.
Well it's time to let the kids get comfy in their rooms, and then observe, we still have some time before the team dinner.