On the court.
Blake Su and Kobe officially matched up.
"Blake Su, I've been waiting for this for a while. You've been impressive lately, so… don't disappoint me."
Kobe smiled faintly.
"Of course. Come at me."
Blake Su's eyes burned with battle intent.
"Here we go."
Kobe sized up the much taller Blake Su, working his crossover to find rhythm. Then he exploded to the left. Blake Su stepped up immediately.
"Bang!"
Their bodies collided.
Blake Su wasn't an overpowering center by NBA standards, but against guards he usually had a strength advantage. Tonight, against Kobe, that edge wasn't obvious at all.
In the contact, Kobe stayed glued to him, spun, created half a step of lateral separation—
And rose into his signature fadeaway.
Blake Su twisted sideways to contest.
But that fadeaway—the angle, the elevation, the release point—combined with that sliver of space…
Even with Blake Su's height advantage, it wasn't enough.
"Swish!"
Nothing but net.
"Nice shot!"
Under the basket, Pau Gasol pumped his fist in celebration.
"That fadeaway from Kobe… every frame looks like a poster."
"Blake Su defended well, though. He was close to blocking it. The contest was there—Kobe's just that precise."
"Exactly. For a rookie to defend the league's top shooting guard like that? That's impressive."
The crowd buzzed.
On the floor.
"Just a little short," Kobe said with a shrug as he jogged back.
Blake Su didn't respond. He took Nash's inbound and pushed the ball up.
Seeing a center bringing it up, Fisher lunged forward, trying to poke it loose.
Fisher lunged in—
But Blake Su didn't even look at him.
Mid-stride, he switched hands through his legs and slipped past effortlessly.
Fisher embraced nothing but air.
"Wow—!"
A wave of gasps rolled through the arena.
A center with that kind of handle? It just didn't look normal.
At the top of the arc.
Blake Su faced Kobe.
A rookie center isolating against the league's premier shooting guard on the perimeter—just the sight of it felt historic.
"Thump. Thump. Thump."
Left hand on the ball. Slow dribble. Lowered stance. The rhythm gradually quickened.
Then—
A sudden burst to the left.
"Driving left!"
Kobe slid laterally to cut him off.
Blake Su had been reading him the entire time.
He snapped a hard crossover, shifting his body violently to the right.
Left. Right.
Kobe bit.
Blake Su gained separation, took one step right, stopped on a dime, gathered, and rose.
"Screech—!"
Shoes scraped against hardwood.
Even after being shaken, Kobe fought through the momentum, planted, and launched into a desperate contest.
"What quick reactions!"
"He got up high!"
Against most players, that would've been a block.
But this was a 215-centimeter center with elite bounce.
The ball sailed over Kobe's fingertips.
"Swish!"
Kobe turned just in time to see it drop clean through.
When he faced back around, Blake Su stood there with his hands spread, wearing a mocking expression.
"That it?"
"That's the defense from the league's top shooting guard? Looks pretty average to me."
Blake Su mimicked Kobe's shrug as he jogged back.
"Tch. You little punk."
Fisher brought it up again.
This time Kobe demanded the ball and waved everyone clear.
He wanted Blake Su.
Right high post.
"Thump! Thump! Thump!"
Kobe backed him down. The moment he felt Blake Su give half a step, he gathered, threw a shoulder fake, spun halfway to create space—
Blake Su reacted and jumped to contest.
But it was all a fake.
Kobe smirked, stepped through toward the rim, and finished with a smooth up-and-under layup.
"Swish!"
"Wow!"
"That post footwork from Kobe… beautiful!"
"Blake Su got schooled."
Lakers fans were on their feet.
Kobe roared toward Blake Su.
"Rookie! You think you can block me? You're still too green."
Blake Su snorted.
He brought the ball up quickly and, a step beyond the three-point line at the top, pulled without warning.
Kobe reacted late.
"Swish!"
Three.
"What's the point of all those fancy moves? Two points is still two. Watch this—simple three. Easy three points.
Kobe, times are changing. Your era's over."
The jab hit.
Kobe's eyes narrowed.
Next possession, he worked a series of crossovers at the top, rose into a fadeaway three over Blake Su—
And buried it.
"Rookie! You're that tall and still can't block it? Might as well take those long arms off!"
Blake Su's jaw tightened.
He attacked immediately, blew past Kobe, rose inside the paint—
And detonated a dunk over Pau Gasol.
"Boom!"
The rim shook.
"Can't even stop a rookie, Kobe? Maybe it's time to retire."
"What?!"
A rookie telling the league's best player to retire?
Kobe was fuming.
Next trip, he shook free, attacked the rim, and hammered one down himself.
"Blake Su, getting past you is like getting past a traffic cone. You going to put up any resistance?"
"You scored on a rookie and you're this proud?"
"You—!"
Even after scoring, Kobe looked more irritated than satisfied.
Blake Su sprinted along the baseline, looped back out, caught Nash's pass—
"Whoosh!"
Blew past Kobe again and floated it in.
"The so-called top shooting guard can't stay in front of a rookie center? Kobe, go lie in a coffin already—stop embarrassing yourself."
"Blake Su, you—"
"I what?"
The two stood chest-to-chest, glaring.
Boom.
The crowd was electric.
Possession after possession, they traded buckets, each answer sharper than the last.
The fans were ecstatic.
But Kobe—
Though it was a true back-and-forth duel—
He was breathing hard, seething.
Blake Su… a rookie?
What kind of rookie had a mouth that vicious?
...
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