19. Mount Delightful
Time was on our side.
With a 14-point lead by the end of the second quarter, we hunkered down on defense and ran smart set offenses.
They must be starting to struggle with zone defense by now, right?
They'd abandoned the perimeter and locked down the paint with their zone. That also meant they couldn't threaten our ball possession at all.
Our ball-handler Changmin would kill time on the outside, then pass to me or Subin when about five seconds remained on the shot clock. I'd bull my way in for a drive. Subin would take a quick drive and pull up for a jumper.
We burned the clock on every possession, and the opposing coach's face grew darker by the minute. By the start of the fourth, with our lead still at 13, he finally exploded in a red-faced rage.
"Stick to 'em! Press up!"
Yongseon High switched to man-to-man. That's when the slugfest began, and I finally caught my breath.
The triangle offense kicked into gear properly, letting me run back-to-basket plays.
Come here. I'll crush you for real.
Their center, Shim Hyung-chul, had dodged me all game. Now he had no choice but to guard me at high post, swallowing his pride.
"Hngh!"
Thud! I turned my right arm and shoulder into a battering ram and shoved in. He gritted his teeth and held his ground. His strength outclassed any center I'd faced so far, but it left him full of openings.
He's so focused on bracing that his body's stiff as a board.
Screech, splash! I hit him with the most basic stop-and-go... a hesitation move, slipping past easily and driving to the rim.
The weak-side defenders scrambled over for help.
"Gotcha."
I didn't force it, dishing to Subin trailing behind. He laid it in for two.
Six assists now!
I was just four away from a triple-double. I'd aimed for it in the finals, but it wasn't meant to be. Assists don't come on demand.
I settled for nine. Beep! The final buzzer sounded. Yongseon High collapsed to the floor.
Final score: 88-73. National champions.
"Yeeeeeeeees!!"
"Insane, man!"
"Naissssaa!!"
Everyone but Subin stripped off their jerseys in a frenzy, but my feelings were mixed.
I was thrilled, sure. But doubt crept in too.
My jumper was on point today... but even the undisputed high school powerhouse wasn't that tough.
Their box-and-one was clever, but not unbreakable. Worst was their blatant fouling strategy, like they'd given up defending me outright.
Coming from the "best" team? Disappointing.
Still...
Seeing everyone so ecstatic, I kept my reservations to myself.
"Subin!!"
"Uwaaaah! My boy did it...!"
Shin Won-hyung crushed Subin in a bear hug. Kim Yun-mi sobbed uncontrollably.
The other players' parents flooded the court, celebrating their sons' triumphs.
"Mom, this gets me into Yeonseo Uni early admission for sure!"
"What's the cutoff grade there again?"
"Three 2's or something?"
"Aish! Should've started SAT prep last spring! Let's scout academies tomorrow!"
Parents and sons sharing the joy. To me, it shone brightly.
Our family had been just as fanatical and loving. I could only imagine how wild my parents would be right now.
Feels kinda lonely.
Maybe I shouldn't have stopped Seo Eun from skipping school to cheer me on.
But the isolation didn't last. Awards began, and all eyes turned to me.
Scoring title, rebounding title, defensive MVP. And tournament MVP.
Four awards. I wrapped up my first nationals amid thunderous applause.
Celebratory afterparty for the win.
The prize money was a measly 2 million won, so parents footed the bill.
"Eat up, kids!"
Sizzling pork belly.
Not beef, but whatever.
Fresh samgyeopsal hits different.
The adults pushed us into toasts with sodas. Kim Yun-mi kept wrapping me pork ssam after ssam.
The mood warmed up, stories flowed.
At our players' table, talk turned to contributions—and prize splits.
"Seojun takes half a million first. Everyone cool with that?"
Changmin flashed the scoresheet. Nods all around. Some even eyed me like I deserved more.
Opponent tactics dipped my points and boards a bit, but my threes and free throws exploded—longtime headaches solved. High assists and zero turnovers? Efficient as hell.
Solid box score, but that nagging doubt from the national team tryouts dulled the joy.
"Nah, split it even. No need to baby me."
"For real?"
"Yeah. Wasn't a solo show. You guys grinded too."
Their faces lit up.
Eyes shifted to Subin next.
His midrange was fire today. Shocking line.
Zone gave him clean looks, but still. Whether inspired by my co-No. 1 option talk or not, he matched my scoring punch.
"I'm good too. Even split, like Seojun hyung said."
Misc costs aside, 200,000 won each. The kids went wild, pushing for PC bang round two.
Then they ragged on Subin for calling me "hyung." Classic post-win roast session.
Changmin sidled up, voice low.
"Seojun, step outside? Got something important."
"Important?"
Turned out to be recruiting.
"Kinda half-recruiting, half-expedition. Tons of kids wanna transfer to our school for basketball."
"Transfers? Not that simple, right?"
My old school had no team, so mine was easy. Mid-senior year? Nightmare.
"Yeah, tough in the capital. But provinces? Just move. Done."
"Ah... yeah."
Desperate for PT and rings, parents would uproot for it.
Same old story.
Familiar scene. This was tame compared to high school soccer insanity—moms pouring drinks for coaches just to start their sons.
"Post-game, some broker dude cornered me. No coach here, so he pitched to me... pick anyone, just call."
Bench guys short on minutes, but way better than our PE kids.
"Your take?"
"Not bad. Others gotta hit the books soon."
"Right? Thinking four: two guards, two wings. Cool?"
"...Nah. Hold up."
"Huh?"
I pondered, then laid it out.
"Get me two centers, one power forward, and two utility guys who can play 1 through 3."
"Three bigs? Why..."
"Not playing center anymore. I'll run the 3 going forward."
Best for my growth. Rack up experience at the wing, 45 degrees out—not paint or high post.
Changmin furrowed his brow, then his face lit up in shock.
"In-insane!! Dude, our height then!? Subin's 194 at SG. You at 2m on SF. I'm 184—not small for PG! New bigs at least 190! Our size is nuts! High school level? Nah—this matches college teams!"
He swore we'd never lose again. That sealed it.
No more rivalry fire left in high school. Time to admit it.
Win didn't change school life.
Monday after, they hung a banner at the gate. Kids barely noticed.
"Basketball team won? We have one?"
"Yeah, Shin Subin. He's on it."
"Oh, Min Chaerin's boyfriend?"
That was the buzz.
Basketball circles differed. Finals footage existed for records.
My free-throw line dunk went viral in communities, drawing fans.
The hot post sparked keyboard wars. Hype for an NBA prospect vs. sneers he'd never make it.
Skeptics dominated. NBA's another world, another sport. "1m in? Jordan toed the line. LeBron slammed it in-game." Etc.
Watching fueled my curiosity.
How big's the gap to make 'em this pessimistic?
I'd watched NBA broadcasts, admired the stars. But unreachable gods? Nah.
Though gotta feel it firsthand.
Like how Europe's "no big deal" until Big League humbled me.
Excitement mixed with fear.
If it's this hyped, soccer-wise it'd be like a Super League—top four from each Big Five mashed into 20 teams.
Made sense.
"So for problem 16, grasp the intent and approach..."
Knock knock! Principal peeked in.
"Sorry, Mr. Kim. ...Lee Seojun here? Can he step out?"
"...?"
Mid-third period. Congrats on the win? Nope.
To his office. Suit-clad middle-aged man and his 30-something aide.
The man beamed, offering a handshake.
"Nice to meet ya, Seojun!"
"Uh, hello, sir."
"Good, good. Saw your games. Not live, but anyway. Sit!"
He lounged arrogantly as I sat.
"Here about your future. ...I'm Song Kyung-bae, KBN board member."
KBN: Korea's pro basketball league.
"Yes, Lee Seojun. Future...?"
"Wanna take it slow, but classes await. Straight to it."
The pitch?
"Skip college. Enter the draft this year."
He grinned.
"Your nationals run wowed the commissioner and board. We'll back you hard. Media push too. Next nationals? Nationwide broadcast, make you a household name. Nation's little bro! ...Too tall for that? Haha!"
Sounded helpful. But obvious.
League cash cow.
Not a bad deal, though.
"Incheon Asian Games next year—you're on the roster. Gold or bust; stacked with vet pros from military teams. Your spot's open. And priority: Seoul home team. Jamsil Gym? Their home. You'll pack the stands as a star!"
Draft lottery to Seoul? Mystery. But military exemption? Tempting.
Basketball-wise, though...
"Appreciate the faith, but sorry. No domestic league for me."
Once thought minor leagues to majors like past life. Not anymore.
If world gap's huge? Time sink. If not? Still, aim higher.
No merit either way.
"What...?"
"Post-grad, I'm going abroad."
Song's face twisted. Defiance stung, but more...
Mockery. He scoffed, tone icy.
"Hah! Someone filled your head with nonsense. Kid, abroad? You're no 220cm freak. US streets crawl with your type! You're nothing!"
Bombing nationals, four crowns—nothing? From a league exec.
Deep-rooted defeatism. He spat it out.
"Say you make US college! NBA shot? Four years flop, back home? Military! Two years later? Twenty-six already. Career toast! Happens all the time! This is for your own good— you're dead wrong!"
Principal chimed in.
"Yeah, Seojun. Think it over."
"Principal, stay out."
"Uh, well..."
Him? Worst. Ignored the team till I could be his brag—first high school grad No. 1 pick.
"Sorry, my mind's set."
"Jeez...!"
Seeing my resolve, he shook his head, then eyed his aide.
"Junho. Kid going to Czech?"
"Yes, national team selectee."
"Figures. Perfect."
He stood, fake smile.
"Go taste it in Czech. You'll see I'm spot on."
"..."
"Work hard!"
He bounced. I watched till he vanished.
Then.
"Hahaha! Kinda fun now."
Their hysterics vaulted me past annoyance to Mount Delightful.
"Fine. I'll check how great it is myself. Deal."
Next stage: U-19 World Cup in 10 days.
I turned to Czech.