288: 143.
Small Goal Achieved_2 288: 143.
Small Goal Achieved_2 Season goal: increase three-pointers to 80 , mid-range shots to 85 , layups to 90 .
That way, when we face the top defensive teams in the playoffs, we’ll have the ability to push through.
The feeling of helplessness when we t the Pistons in the second round last season was too much.
However, there’s hope for three-pointers and layups, but mid-range is not so certain.
The range for mid-range is too vast, improvent slows sharply after 75 , and even more after 80 …
but its lethality is strong, and it has better containnt effects!
The next morning, Zhang Yang arrived at the ho team’s training court at 9 o’clock, and as he expected, that rookie with an austere poker face was already training—Rajon Rondo.
Since the end of June, Zhang Yang, Felton, and Gerald Wallace hadn’t been training at the ho team’s court, but at a large training venue rented outside the arena.
The rented venues were bustling during the season, but co the off-season, particularly in the heat of sumr, business was diocre.
The smaller venues were okay, with eight out of ten being rented, but the large training venues were empty, perfect for their private training.
Zhang Yang’s physical training took place at a gym not far from the arena, owned by Jordan.
Zhang Yang’s arrival at the training court caught Rondo’s attention.
Zhang Yang: “Good morning, Rajon, here training early again.”
Rondo: “You’re earlier than ; you start training before 7 a.m.
every day.”
Zhang Yang sensed the dissatisfaction and unhappiness in the other’s tone and laughed, saying, “If you play well during your rookie season, next ti you’ll definitely be called up too; there’s no such thing as a free lunch…
unless you queue up as a holess person for relief food.”
Rondo: “…”
He thought Zhang Yang was going to give him a pep talk, and was ready to retort, but he didn’t expect that last remark.
During the tryouts, Rondo found Zhang Yang too annoying, taking advantage of his own talent and having entered the NBA a year early, bullying him, a fresh college draftee.
He really didn’t want to be picked by the Bobcats.
When Stern called his na, it felt like the sky was falling.
He thought his NBA career was over.
But he wasn’t willing to accept his fate just like that; he was ready to fight Zhang Yang if he dared to bully him, unable to win or not, freeze aside, he wasn’t the type to suffer in silence.
When he returned to Charlotte at the end of June, Zhang Yang and it seed, the team leader Felton, warmly hosted him and Millsap, took them out to eat, drove them around the town, telling them things to watch out for…
Felton being warm was no surprise to Rondo; during the tryouts, that guy was very outspoken.
Zhang Yang’s off-court deanor indeed surprised Rondo; he was modest and polite, paired with a remarkable appearance and good taste in clothes, made Rondo think he had mistaken him for soone else.
At first, Rondo thought Zhang Yang was putting on an act, but in the following months, whenever he encountered Zhang Yang, he was always polite, like a harmless little bobcat…
until one day, when he was feeling good about his shooting and eagerly went to challenge Zhang Yang to a one-on-one…
In short, Rondo’s aversion to Zhang Yang wasn’t as strong as when he was first drafted, but there was still a bit of resentnt, and he always wanted to retort whenever they t, even if he couldn’t win the argunt.
Seeing Zhang Yang warming up, Rondo asked, “Aren’t you going to the other training court today?”
Zhang Yang: “The special training is over, and I’m resting for the next two weeks.
Raymond and his family went to Miami yesterday, and Gerald went to New York with his wife and kids.
I wasn’t planning to co today either, but I heard that there was a new guy coming to the team.”
Rondo quickly asked, “Another new teammate?
What position?”
Zhang Yang: “Don’t worry, it’s not point guard; your skills will definitely make you Raymond’s top substitute.”
Rondo: “I’m not concerned about that.
No matter who cos, I can win playing ti.
One day, I will surpass Raymond.”
Zhang Yang: “Then you’ll have to work hard, because Raymond got even stronger this sumr, and this is no minor ga.”
Rondo: “Humph, who’s coming?
Which team’s free agent is it?
I rember there seed to be no more fish left in the free market; the remaining free agents shouldn’t make you skip your break to co see him.
You didn’t co when Derek Anderson and Othella Harrington signed, was it a trade?”
Zhang Yang: “It’s not an Arican player, but a mber of the Argentine national team, said to have Spanish royal blood.
His father is a famous Argentine writer.
The owner went to Spain after the World Cup ended and snatched him from the managent of the Spurs; I’m curious to see what kind of player he is.”
Rondo: “Uh…
with you putting it that way, I’m kind of curious myself…”
The conversation ca to an abrupt halt.
For Rondo, that was enough talking for today.
Zhang Yang didn’t continue to seek topics to chat about either; although he could chatter, he also had to consider his audience; with a teammate like Rondo, they’d talk if there was sothing to discuss, otherwise, they’d let it be.
By 10 a.m., Zhang Yang t the new teammate, a swingman at the 2-4 position who represented Argentina in the world competitions in 2004 and this year, Walter Herrmann.
After completing the signing, Bickerstaff and Jordan brought Herrmann to et Zhang Yang; essentially, they were letting the new Argentine player know who the team valued the most.
Herrmann’s first impression on Zhang Yang—lonely, lancholic, paired with shoulder-length long hair and a Latin Arican face, he had the air of an artist.
His deanor was almost as Zhang Yang had imagined, a player with a very difficult fate, his family mbers passing away one after another over the past few years, leaving only him and his sister to depend on each other; it would be strange if he weren’t lonely and lancholic.
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