The Shock of the Ninth Pick

On the flight to New York.

I was reviewing a document I had downloaded onto my laptop.

It was a scouting report from a sports media outlet.

Since I was a player coming out of a European league, there wasn't as much data on me compared to those who had played in the NCAA, but it was still remarkably detailed.

"Whoa!"

An exclamation escaped my lips before I could stop it.

Putting everything else aside, it was the name listed under the player comparison that caught my eye.

Vince Carter!

The very player I had chosen as my role model. Seeing his name there felt like validation—proof that the path I had walked so far was the right ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠one.

I couldn't have been more satisfied.

So my projected range is the 20th pick in the first round...

However, this scouting report had been compiled after the Green Room invitations were announced. In other words, it didn't factor in my performance in Game 4 of the Finals, which I had played just before leaving.

If they took that into account, would I climb a bit higher?

My realistic hope was around the 17th pick.

Even if I didn't make it into the Lottery Pick range—the top 14 selections—I wanted to get as close to it as possible.

On the flip side, even if I get undervalued and slip to the second round, that wouldn't be the worst thing either. I wonder what pick I'll actually go at.

With that fluttering excitement in my chest, I headed toward New York, where the draft was to be held.

.

.

.

Upon arriving in New York, Seojun met up with Shin Won-hyung and his daughter, Shin Su-ryeon, who had flown in from Korea, and began preparing for the draft.

To think I'm actually going to the Barclays Center.

Shin Won-hyung was still in a daze.

He had been utterly shocked when he heard Seojun was invited to the Green Room. When Seojun asked if they would accompany him to the draft venue, his jaw had practically hit the floor.

This is insane, absolutely insane!

An invitation to the NBA Draft Green Room. He wasn't the first Asian player to receive one.

While Yao Ming hadn't attended his draft in person, China's Yi Jianlian had been invited to the Green Room back in the 2007 draft.

However, Seojun was indisputably the first Korean player to achieve this.

By extension, the Shin family was about to become the first Koreans to sit in the Green Room.

His wife, Kim Yoon-mi, said with immense pride:

"This is something even the heirs of corporate conglomerates haven't done. So stand tall and keep your shoulders back!"

"W-well, yes. But honey... I saw you earlier, you were casually linking arms with Seojun. You two seem to have gotten really close, huh?"

"Of course we have. Seojun is basically our son now."

"..."

Shin Won-hyung was speechless.

When Seojun had first suggested they live together, she had been so uncomfortable. Yet here they were, a year later, and she was treating him like her own flesh and blood.

I guess living together in a foreign country really bonds people.

From what he understood, Seojun was the only one who spoke the languages fluently, so he had escorted them whenever they went out. That must have made him seem incredibly dependable.

"And you know what? Seojun said that when he gets married and has his family meeting, he wants us to be there representing his side."

"Really? Well, of course we'd gladly go if he asked. But... wasn't he just joking?"

"What are you talking about! Seojun was being completely sincere when he asked!"

"Hmm..."

Shin Won-hyung realized his wife was completely smitten.

Well, it's a good thing, so I suppose it doesn't matter.

It was true that Seojun was in a pitiful position, having lost his parents. If he looked up to them as parental figures, Won-hyung was more than happy to reciprocate.

Above all, his son Subin trusted and followed Seojun like a real older brother, and Seojun had been nothing but a positive influence on him. He hoped this relationship would last a long time.

"Still, don't overdo it and make Seojun feel burdened, honey."

Just then, his daughter, Su-ryeon, tugged hard on his sleeve.

"Give it up, Dad. You know Mom is unstoppable once she gets like this. From what I heard, she thinks Seojun is our family's benefactor. You know how much she believes in fortune-telling and destiny."

"Well, Seojun is our benefactor, isn't he? He helped Subin win the national championship, and they pushed each other to grow in Europe."

"Exactly! Since it's actually true, there's no way you're stopping Mom."

"Haha..."

Shin Won-hyung let out a warm laugh.

Our family's benefactor, huh.

If that was the case, it made perfect sense for his wife to cherish Seojun like a son.

***

June 26th. The 2014 NBA Draft, held in Brooklyn, New York.

I walked the red carpet and entered the venue alongside the Shin family.

To be honest, I wasn't drawing a massive amount of attention. A few reporters showed interest, noting that I was the sole Asian prospect in the draft, but to everyone else, I was just another face in the crowd.

There was a camera crew from a Korean broadcasting station, but they seemed completely lost, likely unfamiliar with the media protocols of an NBA Draft.

As we stepped inside, the grand, sprawling arena came into view.

"Whoa, this is insane..."

Su-ryeon stared open-mouthed in awe.

Subin, too, was busy looking around, his eyes filled with a deep sense of reverence as he finally stood in the arena of his dreams.

Just then, a man who appeared to be a staff member approached us.

"Seojun Lee?"

"Yes, that's me."

"Your table is this way. Please follow me."

He led us to a table situated slightly toward the corner.

As we sat down, I heard voices calling out to me from the nearby spectator stands.

"Seojun Lee!"

"How does it feel to be at the draft?!"

The stands were open to the general public for a fee, and it seemed some Korean reporters had bought tickets to get in.

However, this apparently violated media regulations, as league staff quickly intervened and escorted them out.

Both the broadcast crew and the reporters...

Since none of them had ever attended an NBA Draft in person, they all seemed completely out of their depth.

"Whew... I'm so nervous. Subin, pass your dad that drink over there."

"Dad, I think that's alcohol."

"Mom, they said this is being broadcast live back in Korea right now."

"Of course it is! Su-ryeon, sit up straight and behave, okay? Every man in South Korea is watching you right now."

Seeing everyone else so tense made me feel a bit anxious myself.

Maybe I should go around and greet a few people.

I stood up from my seat, deciding to do a lap around the other tables.

I see a lot of familiar faces.

First up was Jusuf Nurkić, who was sitting at a nearby table.

"Hey, Nurkić. How've you been?"

"...? Oh, Lee!"

I had never played against Nurkić on the court, but we knew each other by face.

He let out a smirk and shook my hand.

"I saw your last game. You absolutely demolished Partizan. Was that your first career triple-double?"

"Yeah. But honestly, my teammates set me up for it."

As I was chatting with Nurkić, Dario Šarić walked over.

"Haha, look at this. The European League trio is all in one place."

"If you combine our Adriatic League Round MVP awards, we probably have nine of them, right?"

"That sounds about right. I have three, Nurkić has one, and Lee has... what, five, including the Finals MVP?"

Both Šarić and Nurkić acted as if it was only natural for me to be here.

Being recognized like this by my peers always felt great.

"By the way... have you guys already heard from some teams?"

I carefully brought up the topic. For a European player to attend the draft in person usually meant they had received some prior assurances from a franchise.

"Ah... was that off-limits to ask?"

Šarić gave a wry smile.

"It's not really something we should talk about openly. But surely you've heard something too, Lee?"

"Well... sorry. Forget I asked."

After exchanging greetings with the two of them, I continued wandering around the floor.

That was when I ran into another familiar face.

"I knew you'd make it!"

"Oh, hey. It's been a while. Zach LaVine, right?"

"That's me."

LaVine greeted me warmly with a handshake.

I walked around with him for a bit, getting introduced to players like Marcus Smart, Elfrid Payton, and Aaron Gordon.

At first, they all looked at me with puzzled expressions, wondering who I was. But once LaVine explained that I was the Asian player he had faced back in the U-19 World Cup, their eyes lit up with recognition, and they greeted me cordially.

And finally, there was one last person.

This guy didn't need any explanation to remember me.

"What the hell are you doing here?!"

It was Julius Randle.

His face was contorted into a massive scowl as he glared at me.

I gave him a casual jab.

"Don't you even check the Green Room invite list?"

"You got invited to the Green Room?"

"Why else would I be sitting here?"

"Are you fucking kidding me..."

Randle kept muttering "shit" under his breath, unable to believe his eyes.

"If we end up on the same team, I'm putting you in your place on day one. Just so you know."

"Oh, fuck you."

"Yeah, good luck to you too. See you around."

Having finished my rounds, I returned to my table. The Shin family was staring at me with blank, awestruck expressions.

"Wow... his English is seriously amazing..."

"I told you, Seojun is incredibly popular."

"I know he speaks fluent German, but how is he so good at English too?"

"Subin, I keep telling you, that's exactly the kind of confidence you need to learn from him."

Fortunately, they seemed to have settled in and were chatting comfortably now. Though, of course, they didn't have the slightest intention of trying to mingle with the other tables.

Anyway, as time ticked by, the main event finally began.

***

The house lights dimmed, and the spotlight focused on the main stage.

Soon, a slender, bald white man—Commissioner Adam Silver—stepped up to the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠podium and declared the draft officially open.

Clap, clap, clap, clap!

The crowd erupted into applause.

Commissioner Silver then disappeared backstage.

Meanwhile, the analysts at the draft broadcast desk behind us began talking rapidly.

They were debating who would go as the number one overall pick.

About ten minutes later, Commissioner Silver returned to the podium with a smile and made the announcement.

"With the first pick in the 2014 NBA Draft, the Cleveland Cavaliers select... Andrew Wiggins!"

Wooooooo!

A thunderous roar filled the arena.

The selected player hugged the family and friends at his table, put on a Cavaliers cap, walked up to the stage, and shook hands with Commissioner Silver.

So that's the guy they're calling the next LeBron James.

For all that hype, his frame looked a bit on the thin side. The highlight reel playing on the big screen didn't quite scream "LeBron" either...

Regardless, after shaking hands with the Commissioner, Wiggins did a brief three-minute interview while the next pick was being prepared.

The second pick was Jabari Parker. The third was Joel Embiid. For some reason, Embiid wasn't in attendance, so he shared his thoughts via a pre-recorded video on the screen.

Man, this is nerve-wracking.

Still, my projected draft range was around the 20th pick.

There was no need to sweat just yet.

The draft marched on.

Soon, a familiar name echoed through the speakers.

"The Los Angeles Lakers select... Julius Randle!"

Julius Randle, selected 7th overall.

Randle pumped his fist in celebration and shared the joy with his family.

And then...

"...Heh."

He cast a smug glance in my direction, his lips curling into a smirk.

As if to say, Now you know the difference in our levels.

Is this punk seriously trying to rile me up again?

Still, going 7th overall to a legendary franchise like the Lakers certainly gave him bragging rights.

It doesn't look like anything interesting will happen until we get close to the 20th pick. I might as well use the restroom.

I went to the bathroom and returned to my table. Just then, Commissioner Silver walked back up to the podium with a slightly ambiguous expression.

For some reason, he scanned the arena floor.

Then, taking a sharp breath, he spoke into the microphone.

"With the ninth pick in the 2014 NBA Draft, the Charlotte Hornets select..."

He looked up from his cue card.

And locked his eyes directly onto me.

"Seojun Lee, from Mega Vizura!"

"...?"

The arena erupted into a murmur.

My name had just been called as a Lottery Pick.

It was a completely unexpected turn of events.

I was just as stunned as everyone else.

I didn't mishear that, did I?

I froze in my seat. The Shin family couldn't even react.

The first to react was the table next to us.

Šarić and Nurkić let out loud cheers. Seeing a fellow competitor from their own league get drafted in the lottery made them genuinely happy.

Still in a daze, I stood up and hugged my companions, just as I had seen the other draftees do. I hugged Subin and his mother, and then, swept up in the momentum, I naturally embraced Mr. Shin and Su-ryeon as well.

Then, a Charlotte Hornets cap was handed to me.

I put it on and walked up to the stage as a barrage of camera flashes went off. Some members of the media were already whispering that this was the most shocking upset of the draft.

Reaching the stage, I shook hands with Commissioner Silver.

"I never imagined we'd see a result like this," Commissioner Silver murmured, seemingly just as surprised.

Over at the broadcast booth, the analysts were losing their minds. They were frantically debating how I had been selected ahead of Payton, McDermott, or Warren.

After a brief photo op with the Commissioner, I was guided to the interview area.

- Where is your translator?

"I don't need a translator."

- Oh, fantastic! Seojun Lee! No one saw this coming! You've been selected 9th overall as a lottery pick!

"Yes... I didn't expect this at all, so I'm still trying to process what just happened."

- You've been drafted by the Charlotte Hornets. Was this also completely unexpected?

"Yes, it was."

It was a franchise I had never even considered—one I only knew existed.

If I had to describe my impression of them... well, let's just say they were a team I preferred not to go to.

To have them suddenly call my name out of the blue left me utterly bewildered.

Once the interview wrapped up, I was led backstage to meet with the Charlotte front office.

The General Manager, Rich Cho, was there to welcome me. As a Korean-American, he greeted me with a warm smile.

Did he draft me just because we share Korean heritage?

He smiled brightly and offered his hand.

"Congratulations on being drafted. I'm incredibly proud of you."

"Thank you for drafting me, sir. But..."

I wanted to ask why they had chosen me. If it was truly just because we shared the same blood, I didn't think that was right.

However...

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Hold on. I'm not the one you should be talking to."

"...!"

In that instant, it clicked.

Charlotte hadn't actually wanted me.

It was a pick swap!

A team picking lower in the draft, desperate not to lose me, had proposed a trade to Charlotte to select me on their behalf at number 9.

Did Denver pull the trigger?

Denver's highest pick was the 11th overall selection in the first round.

The player Denver had selected was Doug McDermott.

If Denver and Charlotte had made a pre-arranged agreement, the trade should have been announced right then...

But the draft had simply continued.

Which meant only one thing.

It's not Denver?!

Then which team was it?

I got my answer soon enough.

As the draft progressed, a trade notification flashed across the big screen.

The Atlanta Hawks.

That was to be my new home.