He figured it wouldn't be easy, though.
It was for the same reason: every spot was filled. Hospitals were everywhere, but there were only so many teams, and thus only so many team physician positions.
When a team had a good physician, management wouldn't be in any hurry to replace him.
Besides, if the team doctor's skills weren't up to par, they could always fly in a specialist.
As a young doctor who had just completed his residency, his credentials were still too thin. If it weren't for his stellar resume and two very impressive letters of recommendation, Ron Kapu might not have even bothered to take the time to chat with him.
Most importantly, Chen Yu's heart was set on becoming a team physician for a basketball team.
Halftime ended.
Throughout the entire second half, Chen Yu's mood was as complex as Rivers'.
Coming back from the break, the Magic still hadn't found an answer for the Heat's offense.
Rivers seemed to be at his wit's end.
In the third quarter, the Heat outscored the Magic 25-18, further widening the point differential.
By the time the fourth quarter began, Riley had already coolly subbed out his starters and was starting to bask in the cheers from the entire arena.
In twelve minutes, he would be tied with Old Wilkins as the second coach in NBA history to reach one thousand wins.
Unfortunately...
Riley couldn't help but glance at Moning, dressed sharply in a suit, and his good mood instantly grew heavy.
He and Ron Kapu had discussed Moning's condition on more than one occasion.
Kapu had already tactfully advised him to prepare for the possibility of losing Moning.
In response, Riley could only feel helpless.
Kapu was a good doctor and a good partner, but he was a man, not a god.
As the game drew to a close, the arena's DJ couldn't resist and began to shout Riley's name.
The players on the Heat's bench started to join in the celebration.
In the stands, excited fans had already begun chanting for a championship.
The Heat was a young team, but just like their name implied, Miami's fans never lacked a burning desire for a championship.
Especially after Riley took the helm of the Heat in '95, their record had steadily improved. They made the playoffs year after year but always fell just short at the final hurdle. Miami's fans had been waiting for far too long.
On the Magic's bench, hearing the championship cheers that threatened to blow the roof off the arena, Hill couldn't help but frown.
'If I had played in this game, the team wouldn't have lost so badly. We might not have lost at all.'
He looked down at his left ankle. He was the man the media called "the next Jordan," a superstar with sky-high expectations. His desire for a championship was second to none.
105 to 79!
The disastrous game finally came to an end.
Confetti rained down in the American Airlines Arena, a scene of pure jubilation.
But this celebration had nothing to do with the Magic. The team trudged dejectedly back to the locker room.
"Sorry, everyone."
After returning to the locker room, Hill was the first to speak, taking the initiative to apologize to everyone.
"I should have been tougher. If I had played, maybe I could have helped the team win!" Hill was ashamed. 'It's because of that injury,' he thought. 'It's messed with my head and made me timid.'
'I had the surgery and rested for so long. I'm completely fine now.'
'I'm a professional athlete. What's a little soreness?'
'But because I was scared, because I didn't have the guts to play, I cost the team the game.'
The others all looked at each other, not knowing what to say.
Rivers, standing nearby, reacted quickly. He immediately stepped forward, hugged Hill, and then said, "Fellas, what Grant just said really moved me. We've got a lot of new faces on this team this season, and our chemistry isn't quite there yet. But that's no excuse for losing. We need the kind of spirit Grant just showed. We need to step up and take responsibility for this team. Everyone, let's work together and win the next game!"
Rivers pumped his fist, his passionate tone sweeping away the locker room's dejected atmosphere. Everyone rose to their feet, roaring their determination to win the next game.
"Alright, go hit the showers."
Rivers clapped Tracy McGrady on the shoulder as he prepared to head to the post-game press conference.
But just as he was about to leave, Rivers pulled Paul Houston aside and said in a low voice, "Tell Joe to keep an eye on Grant's ankle. For the next game, I need a healthy Grant out on that court."
Meanwhile, Chen Yu struggled through the celebrating crowd, finally managing to squeeze his way in front of Kapu.
He had just managed to say hello when he was pushed aside by a throng of excited players.
Kapu saw him, though. He gave Chen Yu a thumbs-up from a distance before being pulled into a fierce hug by Little Anthony Mason.
By the time the players had boisterously returned to the locker room, Chen Yu still hadn't had a chance to speak with Kapu.
It was getting late, so a frustrated Chen Yu had no choice but to leave the American Airlines Arena and drive back to his apartment.
Lexi was on duty today.
The entire apartment was a mess, looking as if it had been ransacked.
Chen Yu sighed, picked up a laundry basket, and began to collect the socks, jackets, and underwear strewn all over the place.
Lexi was great in every way, except for being an absolute slob when it came to tidiness.
Chen Yu could understand, though. Back during his residency, he had been astonishingly busy. He himself had wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed the moment he got home from a shift.
After spending half an hour tidying up the apartment, Chen Yu opened his laptop and began researching the medical staff of other teams.
'Can't put all my eggs in one basket.'
Compared to the NBA, Chen Yu figured the National Football League might actually be an easier nut to crack.
First off, they were rich.
It was America's number one sports league, after all.
Second, football teams had more players, the game was intense and violent, and injuries were commonplace. All of this meant a need for more team doctors.
Every NFL team had a dedicated medical department of about fifteen people, including respiratory emergency physicians, surgeons, and X-ray technicians.
An orthopedic surgeon was, of course, an essential member of the team.
However, when Chen Yu looked up the Miami Dolphins' medical team, he made a frustrating discovery: his competition was a little too strong.
Their orthopedic surgeon was named Blalo Sandef.
Chen Yu recognized the name. Sandef was a senior expert in the field of orthopedics, and Chen Yu had studied his papers on more than one occasion.
He had once been the Director of Orthopedics at the University of Miami Hospital.
Furthermore, Matthew Davis, Chen Yu's own attending physician during his residency, had trained under Sandef when he was a resident.
'If you were to trace the lineage of masters and apprentices, then this man would be my... grand-master?'
Competing with him for the same position would be ten times harder than competing with Kapu.
Chen Yu crossed his arms, analyzing the situation. 'With the system, my skills aren't an issue. What I'm lacking now is credentials and a reputation.'
Being a full-time team physician was a job with a relatively low career ceiling, yet the competition was unbelievably fierce.
'Maybe the best option for me is to start with a less famous team.'
Chen Yu applying for the Heat's team physician position was like a newly licensed doctor applying to be the Director of Orthopedics at Johns Hopkins. The difficulty was nothing short of epic.
On the other hand, applying to a less popular team might present a much greater opportunity.