One of Them is the Real Deal (2)
The reason I barely knew any famous basketball players wasn't just my personal disinterest—it was mainly because I'd spent so long living in England.
Basketball-crazed England was one of the countries in Europe where the sport was especially unpopular.
Hell, even if Michael Jordan walked down the street, hardly anyone would recognize him.
Anyway, amid all that indifference, the names Dončić and Wembanyama had trickled through.
The flower boy genius from Slovenia. The alien from France.
Giannis from Greece had also reached my ears as that country's top sports hero. I'd just kinda forgotten his weird name. Pretty sure I'd heard it a lot, though.
Same with the German soldier, Nowitzki.
Excluding Wembanyama, who'd caused a media frenzy over his physical specs, these were names I'd picked up naturally as national sports icons.
Just like everyone knows Roger Federer is Swiss or Lewandowski is Polish.
Nikola-whatever, on the other hand, wasn't like that.
And for good reason—Serbia had an untouchable sports legend in Novak Djokovic.
I have no idea how it was in America, but in Europe, that guy's fame didn't even touch the tip of Djokovic's toe.
Still, the fact that I'd even heard the name Nikola meant the dude must've been seriously impressive...
Who the hell is he?
Cold sweat dripped down my back.
All three Nikolases had eerily similar skill levels.
And they were all big men around 2m10cm tall.
Chang-min and the other players said the same.
"They're all good, huh?"
"That Milutinov guy stands out to me."
My teammates were evaluating the players like they were on a casual field trip.
With opinions all over the place, I clutched my head.
I gotta remember! Come on, think! His last name... no, even a nickname!
But no matter how hard I racked my brain, nothing came up.
"Serbia's killing it, though. They got second at the last tournament, right?"
"Their baseline physicals are on another level."
"I like that Zankovich guy."
"It's Yankovich, not Zankovich."
"Oh, so he's Jokić but Yoki-č?"
The name Jokić snagged in my mind for a split second, but then Australia's Dante Exum nailed a insane double clutch, and the crowd erupted.
"Whoa!"
"That guy's no joke either!"
Anyway.
For now, Milutinov and Janković caught my eye the most.
Guess that Jokić kid's a bench guy.
His current level must be the lowest of the three.
This is seriously tough. Ugh!
Giving up on remembering, I decided to go with the group's advice.
I had to leave before Serbia's next game anyway, so we'd hash out a decision somehow.
In the end, the seven of us—including me—split 3:2:2 in the golden ratio.
After agonizing deliberation, I locked in on one of the three.
Back home, I dove into prep for heading to Serbia.
Luckily, I had plenty of time.
The Serbian national team kicked off their season in mid-October, so leaving early October would do.
90-day tourist visa fits perfect.
My plan was to train with them for those 90 days, snag a contract, then switch to a work visa with the club's help.
Just pop back for graduation, and school's sorted.
By October, most national tournaments would be over anyway, so I could ship my school teammates off to college.
Language won't be an issue either.
Serbia used to be in the German-speaking sphere, so they'd understand German. Mix in English, and no problems.
Last thing...
Address issue.
The landlord at my current apartment was starting to ask me to remove my registration. Didn't want some pointless hassle blowing up while I was abroad, so I'd ask Mr. Shin Won-hyung to handle transferring it.
"Subin."
I laid out the whole situation to Subin.
"So, I wanna register my address at your place for about a year. If your mom gets upset, back me up, okay? Please."
"..."
He listened silently like always, but something felt off—different from usual. Like he'd made some huge decision.
And that hunch was spot on. He dropped a bombshell.
"Can I come to Serbia with you?"
Evening dinner done, the Shin family held a gathering.
Patriarch Shin Won-hyung was blown away hearing about Seojun's bold career path.
"Whoa, you're on another level! Totally different!"
Declaring he'd enter the NBA draft next year.
No matter the outcome, it was a radical move.
And to prep, he was just gonna head to Europe on a whim.
To him, Seojun was a true outlier—unprecedented in Korean basketball.
"Won't adapting there be tough? Language barrier leads to isolation, homesickness. That's my worry."
"I speak the languages. German and English are perfect. A bit of French. Spanish I can kinda understand. I know European culture well, so no homesickness."
"Uh...?"
Sounded like a joke.
But Subin confirmed it.
"Hyung's English is legit. Haven't heard his German, though."
"Really? Uh... Impressive. What, some genius training?"
Seojun grinned, saying it was something like that.
"I was pretty promising as a soccer player too. Studied hard for EPL or Bundesliga."
"Gotcha. No worries then! Register at our place. It's our own house anyway. Won't sell till after the Shinbundang Line's done."
Seojun's stuff was settled.
Won-hyung felt proud yet a tad sad hearing he'd leave again after just half a year.
But his encouragement was pure sincerity.
"Give it your all. With your talent, you'll make the NBA for sure!"
"Thank you!"
Seojun bowed, then subtly shot Subin a look—like keep your mouth shut.
But Subin stubbornly held his gaze and dropped the bomb.
"Dad, I wanna go to Serbia with Seojun-hyung too."
"What...?"
Silence fell. Shin Won-hyung, wife Kim Yun-mi, and daughter Suryeon all blinked, thinking they'd misheard.
"I wanna follow hyung and learn basketball in Europe."
Seojun waved his hands frantically.
"Haha...! W-what're you saying, Subin? Looks like the overseas trip messed with his head. I'll talk to him, so don't worry! ...Dude! You said college is basically set—top 5 prestige. Can't just follow me outta nowhere. I can skip college! You're different! ...Haha! Anyway, no worries, uncle, auntie!"
Subin's eyes grew firmer.
"Dad, I'm serious. College... I won't go. I know it'll be tough, but I wanna learn basketball in Europe."
"..."
Won-hyung's face twisted at his usually non-stubborn son's earnest plea.
He knew why.
Stimulated by Seojun...
But that was tragic.
Seojun could be this aggressive because of his talent and skills.
For Subin, who lagged in both, chasing after was a no-go.
Like a baby bird following a stork and ripping its legs.
His heart sank knowing he had to make his son face that harsh reality.
"Subin. You..."
"I know! I know I got no talent!"
Subin pressed on, voice rising.
"I've known forever I can't make the NBA! Saw it watching hyung, and facing that Zachary Lavine guy confirmed it! But... that doesn't matter. I just wanna get better at basketball! And following hyung now beats college for that!"
"...!"
"I'll learn for a year, then enter next year's domestic draft. So let me go, Dad."
Won-hyung squeezed his eyes shut.
Then nodded.
"Alright! You going to college to flash a degree? Nah, college is for basketball. If skipping it boosts your skills more, who cares? Do what you want, Subin!"
"Ah...! Thanks, Dad!"
Seojun panicked.
"No, uncle, what're you saying? College is all but done! Auntie, talk to him please. This is insane—you know it. Stop Subin!"
Seojun figured Kim Yun-mi would vehemently oppose.
She didn't like it, true.
But more than that, she hated how Seojun saw Subin as baggage, annoyed at dragging him along.
Viewing Seojun as her son's benefactor, she couldn't stomach him ditching her boy like old rags.
Biting her lower lip, she spoke.
"Seojun, how you gonna live in Serbia? Lodging? Living expenses?"
"Club gym. Pro teams have great lounges, meals, massive washers. Lived a month in a sauna—it's like a hotel. Won't spend if I don't go out."
"Still, your own stable place is better."
"Well, yeah..."
Kim Yun-mi slammed the table.
"Auntie'll cover lodging, living costs, even pocket money! Enough to live like nobility! So take our Subin too!"
"Yes!?"
Stunned by the twist, Seojun glanced at Suryeon, but she shook her head—no say for her.
Deep into the night, at the convenience store by the apartment.
I was having a private chat with Subin at the outdoor table.
"Man... this can't be real."
I was floored. Mr. Shin Won-hyung and even Mrs. Kim Yun-mi backing it?
Now the final call was all mine.
I laid into him hard.
"One more time: no. Just go to college."
Subin looked unusually downcast.
"You're just annoyed 'cause I'm a hassle, right? In the way."
"No, absolutely not."
I'm human too. I'd leaned on his parents, and Subin had helped me tons on the court.
If I could pull him up, I would.
But not like this.
"Then why?"
"Simple. You won't get a real contract."
I could easily picture it: me getting an offer, Subin nothing.
And how pathetic and heartbreaking that'd be.
"Then what? Skip college for Europe, but no contract? How do I face your parents?"
"Just stay as training helper."
"You... sigh...!"
I could tell at a glance. That stubbornness was unbreakable.
Had to cut him off cold with harsh words.
If it was before, maybe...
But after regression and all those relationships in my past life, I couldn't be that ruthless now.
"...Fine. Conditions then. Meet 'em, and we'll go together."
"Anything."
"Hear 'em first."
Three conditions.
"One: Follow my weight training plan to the letter. It'll be brutal—no injury risk, but tough."
"And?"
"Two: From now, drill 3-pointers hard, boost your defense."
"Next?"
"Three: Master Serbian like hell for three months. Enough to chat without me. Nail all three, you're in."
"Done. Perfect, no complaints from you."
"Talk's cheap... Fine, let's see."
"Got it!"
In a way, this was an investment in me too.
The U-19 tourney made it crystal clear.
Why basketball was entering the 3-point era.
NBA trend, sure—but crucially, the only way weak teams beat strong ones.
If our guys had solid 3s back then...
More space, easier breathing room, tougher defense for them.
USA still unbeatable, but Croatia or Spain games might've flipped.
So bulk-up, 3s, D. If Subin hits 3&D level, even our bleak national team gets hope.
If he can, others can too.
Of course, beating top USA? Near impossible.
But others—Canada, France, Spain, Germany. Teams we'd never beaten, thought unbeatable.
One Olympic giant-kill against them...
...I'd be Korea's undisputed greatest player ever.
End