Chapter 72: Calamity Within the Household

An All-Star MVP, who in his second season ascended to the throne of scoring champion and several times turned the tide with game-winning shots, who could deliver an unmatched buzzer-beater in the All-Star Game and claim the MVP—Lin Fei now stands at the center of adoration, basking in endless glory.

The Warriors truly stumbled upon a gem! It’s an astonishing stroke of luck; no one expected that the unheralded rookie from that draft would achieve such earth-shattering results. Now, the team is brimming with talent.

Though Nelson is the unique soul of this squad, every team usually boasts one or two core figures. Even the Hawks have a “pseudo” core, Johnson. Now, fans are left to wonder: who is the true core of the Warriors?

This question has lingered for some time, though discussion hadn’t been heated, but after the All-Star Game, the debate exploded.

If Lin Fei hadn’t emerged, Jobs and Ax—the team’s forward duo—would undoubtedly be the core. Jobs consistently puts up 20+10+2, anchoring the offense in the paint, while Ax contributes 18+5+5, holding his own on the wing. Many say their impressive stats are thanks to the Warriors’ tactics, but no one doubts their central status. Yet, after Lin Fei’s phenomenal rise—averaging 29 points per game—their positions seem precarious. It’s hard to believe Lin Fei isn’t a core player.

From a tactical standpoint, Jobs and Ax are still seen as the team’s core. Lin Fei scores prolifically, but he cannot orchestrate the offense; his meager four assists per game rank among the lowest in the league. So, even if his offense is nearly flawless, he seems destined not to be the Warriors’ core. Moreover, the Warriors value individual defensive prowess, and Lin Fei’s defense is almost negligible, further undermining his claim to the core role.

But now, wearing the mantle of MVP, even if Lin Fei has no interest in being the team’s leader, the world is ready to crown him.

Especially for Nelson—an old hand though he is—the pressure mounts when faced with such a powerful substitute. In victory, it’s easy enough, but after losses, the media invariably criticizes: why not start Lin Fei?

The management faces pressure as well. With Lin Fei’s ascent, they must adjust the team, lest they waste a prodigious talent and fail to deliver results—how could they face their passionate fans then?

Every problem comes to a head at the All-Star break.

The front office sees a bright future for Lin Fei, so they demand Nelson nurture him more, give him more minutes; currently, Lin Fei doesn’t even play thirty-five minutes per game, which is incomprehensible.

After over half a season of tinkering and with the playoffs approaching, Nelson holds fast to his belief: when facing strong playoff teams, the offensive focus must shift to the paint. Even teams with top guards often move their offensive center to the interior during the postseason. Take the Grizzlies, for example—a young squad with a galaxy of talented guards: Gay, Mayo, Conley. Yet, in the season they upset the Spurs, they suppressed Gay’s core status, limited Mayo and Conley’s offense, and built their strategy around Randolph, focusing on the paint with Randolph and Gasol. The result was the most astonishing upset in history.

Nelson, seasoned from years in the league and known for his wild tactics, relies on his reputation, but his playoff experience keeps prompting him to consider shifting the running game’s focus inside—without sacrificing speed, but employing more interior attacks.

Jobs and Ax have told Nelson they wish to dominate the Warriors’ offense more.

These statements became the spark.

Nelson’s leadership is unquestioned, but now, he’s at odds with management (even though management includes Nelson himself). Jobs and Ax’s comments stem from their hunger for victory.

The trade deadline approaches. The Warriors’ situation is headline news every day! Instantly, seven or eight teams call to inquire about the Warriors’ players. Thus, rumors of trades spread like wildfire.

What chaos! No one expected the post-All-Star Warriors to spiral into such turmoil; strife erupted within, and a once harmonious atmosphere descended into disorder.

Lin Fei’s situation is awkward—he is undeniably the heart of the team’s unrest. At first, no one imagined Lin Fei would perform so spectacularly at the All-Star Game. He may be the scoring champion, but he has always been indifferent to fame, never minded his substitute status, never cared about his place—whether leader or benchwarmer. He simply thinks about how to play the game. In this contest for leader and core, Lin Fei has never uttered a word; others have thrust him into the spotlight, and he is helpless before it. He wants to speak, but knows that saying anything would only increase the chaos, so he simply says nothing.

Often, Nelson likes to talk with Lin Fei, but not this time. Nelson knows that a single decision could determine a player’s career. If he commits to an interior-focused strategy, Lin Fei, who plays more independently, will fit even less, and his future becomes uncertain. Trading him would mean losing a powerhouse; if Lin Fei went to a team with strong defense, his speed could counter Nelson’s own squad. But if Nelson showcases Lin Fei’s abilities, his team might not make it far in the playoffs, and his championship dreams slip further away. Difficult! Difficult! Difficult!

Training continues as usual, but every player now wonders if tomorrow they’ll still be practicing on this court. Lin Fei’s heart is clouded with confusion, visible even in his shooting.