First Blood
The NBA debut was nothing like the preseason debut.
The players' focus, their tactical sharpness—everything felt different.
‘For now, I just need to do what I’m supposed to do, and do it right.’
The Hawks’ offensive system revolved around motion offense. Constant movement, crisp passes, and creating seams. The core of it was the cut.
There were cuts to the basket, and the opposite—relocate moves that took players inside before kicking them back out to the perimeter. By repeatedly flooding the paint and flowing back out, the offense created chaos in the defense.
Thud. Swish! Jeff Teague caught the pass I delivered and immediately exploded toward the rim with perfect timing.
At the same time, DeMarre Carroll—who had been inside—began drifting out toward the corner. Terence Ross, who had been trailing Carroll, hesitated. Should he step up on the driving Teague or follow Carroll to the corner?
In the end, Ross chose to chase Carroll. Teague glided into the space Ross had vacated and finished with a smooth layup.
“Nice one, DC!”
Slap! Teague and Carroll exchanged high-fives. Carroll’s expression was sour. He had done the heavy lifting on that play, yet the assist had gone to me.
Anyway. Teague turned to me with feedback.
“Lee, just like what Carroll showed you there. Keep moving, keep giving the defense problems! Got it?”
“Understood.”
But what I had really been watching wasn’t Carroll’s movement.
‘That play was really made by Horford, wasn’t it?’
Why mention someone who wasn’t even visible? Because his contribution had come from exactly where you couldn’t see him.
‘Horford cleverly cut off Valanciunas’s help path.’
It was what people called a seal screen. Also known as a ghost screen. In situations without the ball, you use your body to wall off the opposing big man, creating a driving lane for your ball-handler.
The move was technically a moving screen and should have been a foul, but the line was blurry. At a glance, it just looked like two bigs battling for position in the box-out war.
Horford was executing it with both cunning and intelligence.
‘Teague doesn’t seem to realize it.’
To him, it was just a tactically assigned movement. He probably didn’t fully understand exactly what Horford was doing for him.
On the other hand, I felt like I could read Horford’s intentions. Maybe it was because I had experienced Nikola Jokic’s brilliant seal screens before. Either way, I could see the lanes Horford was trying to open for me.
‘I’ll test it on the next possession.’
First, though, defense.
Toronto came down in transition. The focal point of their attack was, without question, DeMar DeRozan.
A premier slasher and mid-range maestro. If you mixed Dwayne Wade’s explosiveness with Kevin Durant’s length, you’d get something close to him.
‘Still, I don’t have to worry much about his three-point threat.’
That made it easier to set my defensive stance. I could even drop a step back the moment he received the ball.
“…”
DeRozan curled his lip, clearly displeased by my positioning.
‘Then shoot it.’
But of course, he didn’t.
Thump. Thump. DeRozan attacked with rhythmic dribble drives. Screech! I matched his steps and cut off his path. It was similar to guarding Kyrie Irving, yet different.
Irving had that insane dribble package that could steal my timing and blow by me. DeRozan wasn’t that type. He relied on effective footwork and raw speed to finish his drives. So if I matched his steps properly, I could stay with him.
‘You think you can blow by me that easily? Think again.’
Screech! The moment I sealed his driving lane, DeRozan bumped me as if he had expected it.
I braced my core and upper body, absorbing the contact perfectly.
“…!?”
DeRozan, who had planned to either drive or pull up after the bump, looked momentarily stunned when I didn’t budge an inch.
But he was still a top-level slasher. The surprise lasted only a second. Using the contact, he tried to slip past my hip.
Tap-tap-tap! I held my ground while fighting through the contact, keeping my hands active on the ball side. DeRozan had impressive physicality and athleticism, so once he got his speed going it wasn’t easy to stonewall him completely. Still, I refused to get pushed back.
At the very least, I had succeeded in preventing him from getting a clean look at a layup.
“Tsk…!”
Judging the layup angle too poor, DeRozan gave up on attacking the rim and passed to Terence Ross in the right corner before relocating.
“Hoo… Hoo…!”
I exhaled sharply and chased after him. Toronto’s possession ended with Kyle Lowry launching a three-pointer.
“Box out──!!”
The rebound war under the glass was fierce. As expected, Horford was completely outmuscled by Valanciunas. The Lithuanian’s strength and size were simply overwhelming.
‘Can’t blame him.’
Having faced countless European centers during my soccer days, I drew on those memories and immediately engaged in the box-out battle.
First, I helped our center. I stepped in front of Valanciunas—who was currently pinning Horford—and drove him outward. Valanciunas was currently pushing backward with all his force to keep Horford behind him. So when I got in front and pushed with my back, our force vectors aligned, and Valanciunas was easily shoved backward.
“…!?”
Valanciunas hurriedly reversed his force to push me instead. That gave Horford the opening he needed. He quickly looped around Valanciunas’s side and secured excellent position. Meanwhile, I gritted my teeth against Valanciunas’s massive weight, then pivoted to cut off the recovering DeRozan.
Swish! Thud! Horford secured the defensive rebound.
We had successfully secured the board, but—
‘Whoa, that was brutal.’
The sheer mass of that man. Valanciunas gave me a meaningful stare before outleting the ball upcourt.
The score was now 2-2. On our next possession, I settled into the left corner. With DeRozan in front of me, I scanned the entire court, predicting the flow of the ball.
‘If Carroll cuts inside and then relocates to the corner again… Teague will pass to Millsap on the wing, then receive a hand-off screen…’
Then I should flare out now.
The player I was currently replacing was Kyle Korver. In this exact situation, Korver would have sprinted to the left forty-five degree mark for a catch-and-shoot.
I exploded toward the left forty-five. Millsap, who had just received the ball from Teague, whipped a pass to me immediately.
I could have attempted a difficult three like Korver would have, but DeRozan was closing out fast. Rather than take that risk, I decided to trust Horford.
‘He created space just like I thought!’
Horford had once again sealed Valanciunas, opening a driving lane. The window looked impossibly narrow, but I trusted him completely and attacked the gap the moment I caught the ball.
Bang! DeRozan reacted instantly to my drive, sticking to my hip like glue.
At that exact moment, Horford—who had been preemptively blocking Valanciunas—quietly slid into my driving path.
“…!”
I barely squeezed through the narrow gap beside him, but DeRozan wasn’t so lucky.
Thud! DeRozan slammed into Horford’s screen and was completely screened off.
Now free, I rose up for a layup before Valanciunas could rotate over.
“Whistle!”
Career first points.
Before I could even savor the moment, Horford was already beaming. He slapped my back enthusiastically.
“That box-out earlier, and now this—you’re playing great! Keep it up!”
“That last one… you moved on purpose to set up my drive, right?”
“Exactly!”
“Is it okay to keep doing this? Will Coach get mad?”
“No way. This is exactly the kind of play Mike wants. If you feel like you can make it work, trust me and attack without hesitation. Understand?”
“Got it. Then I’ll keep counting on you.”
Horford looked genuinely thrilled. This was something Korver simply couldn’t do. In other words, it was a brand-new offensive option for the team.
Seo-jun’s NBA debut naturally drew unprecedented attention back home in Korea.
Fans had been expecting the same explosive on-ball dominance he had shown while clamping down on Kevin Love. Instead, his performance was quiet, steady, and efficient.
That was because Jeff Teague was handling most of the ball-handling and playmaking duties. To casual fans, Seo-jun’s contributions looked modest. But the experts were stunned.
Seo Jung-hoon, who had earned his spot on this NBA broadcast after his impressive work during the Asian Games, was praising Seo-jun so enthusiastically that his mouth was practically dry.
“Lee Seo-jun is looking really impressive right now, isn’t he? I bet even the NBA people are watching and thinking, ‘Wait, is this for real?’”
“What exactly stands out to you?”
“Just look at him. His efficiency is insane.”
At that moment, Seo-jun converted another cut for two more points.
At this point in the game, he was a perfect 5-for-5 from the field.
10 points, 3 assists, 3 rebounds. Plus-minus of +9.
“Lee Seo-jun has been quietly stacking up points. He’s now the team’s leading scorer.”
“His teammates have been giving him some great passes!”
“No, no. Haha…”
Seo Jung-hoon let out a hearty laugh. The caster’s comment was exactly the kind of thing someone who didn’t understand basketball would say.
“A lot of people think that finishing cleanly on cuts is easy. That’s a huge misconception. The success of a cut is 20% on the passer and 80% on the cutter. Getting into those open spaces against an NBA defense is incredibly difficult. Truly.”
“Right now, Lee Seo-jun is 3-for-3 on cuts and 2-for-2 on drives using Horford’s seal screens.”
“What makes this type of player scary is that their impact grows as the game progresses into the second half. They quietly dominate games. You ever watch a team and think, ‘They don’t look that good, so why do they keep winning?’ That’s because of players like this. They simplify the offense, lock down their assignment on defense, and even help the center with defensive rebounds.”
“So you’re saying he has a fundamentally sound game.”
“That’s part of it, but… where on earth did he learn to play basketball like this? Who taught him? I’m genuinely curious. The high school he attended supposedly didn’t even have a proper coach or director. So he must have learned it in Serbia… Wow. They really know how to develop players over there. Should we start sending more Korean kids to Europe?”
Seo-jun continued playing solid basketball, steadily increasing his impact on the game.
His main competition for the starting spot, DeMarre Carroll, was starting to feel the pressure.
The stats told the whole story. While Seo-jun was a perfect 5-for-5, Carroll was 2-for-4 with a turnover. Even accounting for Carroll’s three three-point attempts, the real difference was on the defensive end.
Carroll couldn’t help but mutter in disbelief.
‘What the hell is that guy?’
Seo-jun’s defensive support was impressive even to him.
Seo-jun was smartly using the fact that his primary assignment was DeMar DeRozan. Since DeRozan wasn’t much of a three-point threat, Seo-jun was playing a step back in a pseudo-sag, which expanded his help range in the paint. Thanks to that, he was able to snuff out drives, provide strong box-out support, and greatly reduce the burden on Horford.
This was exactly the kind of basketball that Coach Budenholzer wanted to see. It was only natural that Carroll was growing anxious.
‘Still, that guy doesn’t have a three-ball.’
Seeing that as his point of differentiation, Carroll began hunting threes aggressively.
Because Seo-jun had been successfully cutting over and over, Toronto’s defense was now heavily focused on protecting the paint. Even DeRozan, who had been guarding Seo-jun, changed his stance. He began playing a step back, just like Seo-jun had been doing.
But from that moment on, Seo-jun’s playing style shifted.
Dash!
“Lee Seo-jun sprints out to the forty-five!”
“DeRozan isn’t chasing him all the way out. That’s a sag.”
DeRozan, wary of Seo-jun’s driving ability, stayed near the elbow area.
That allowed Seo-jun to hit the brakes, set his feet, and launch a clean, uncontested three-pointer.
Swish! The ball traced a perfect arc.
Even if it had missed, Seo-jun wouldn’t have been bothered.
‘Korver told me. If you’re afraid of failure, you can never become a three-point shooter.’
Even if you miss nine in a row, you still have to shoot the tenth with confidence. Seo-jun had taken that advice to heart.
Of course, this being his first NBA three-pointer, he was still a little nervous. But when the ball ripped through the net with a clean swoosh, his heart soared.
“Let’s gooooo──!!”
Seo-jun clenched both fists and roared like a wild beast.
“...Fuck.”
Carroll’s face froze solid.
DeRozan wore the exact same expression.
He had realized early that the game wasn’t unfolding the way he wanted. His shooting was now 3-for-8, well below 50 percent. The reason was obvious: Lee Seo-jun.
“Devo!”
Kyle Lowry noticed and called out to him.
“Use a screen and get a new matchup!”
Lowry had figured it out. Seo-jun’s defensive style was a natural counter to DeRozan.
One of DeRozan’s biggest strengths was that he didn’t need favorable matchups. That was typical of elite mid-range scorers. Because they were so good at pulling up over defenders or driving when they saw an opening, they could cook opponents of similar size and position.
But those kinds of players had one clear weakness: opponents with patience.
No matter how well you made mid-range jumpers, if the defender refused to panic and completely took away your driving lanes, you were in trouble. Those kinds of defenders were the undertakers for mid-range specialists. They exploited the fundamental truth that mid-range jumpers were inherently less efficient.
There were only two ways to beat that kind of defense.
One was to pull a Michael Jordan and rain down an absurd number of mid-range jumpers until the defense broke. The other was to develop a reliable three-point shot like Kevin Durant and force the defender to play you tighter on the perimeter.
Since DeRozan’s three-point game was still underdeveloped, he needed to be Jordan-level efficient from mid-range. But Seo-jun’s contests were solid. Even while prioritizing the drive, he was still able to contest jumpers effectively. That made him a hard counter to DeRozan.
“It’s fine. I’ll keep moving and figure it out!”
DeRozan shook his head and stubbornly stuck with the matchup against Seo-jun.
Part of it was that there weren’t any easy mismatches to exploit. Both Millsap and Carroll were solid, and Atlanta’s defensive rotations were too disciplined for Horford to be easily screened into a favorable matchup.
The only real option was for DeRozan to handle the ball, call for a screen, and try to pull Horford out. But since neither Valanciunas nor DeRozan himself were three-point threats, Horford would simply recover with ease.
In short, today’s game was an extremely frustrating one for DeRozan. Finding a favorable matchup was nearly impossible.
Grind. DeRozan clenched his teeth.
‘Then I’ll just have to beat him with the drive.’
If he could overpower Seo-jun—who was clearly prioritizing stopping the drive—then the entire dynamic would change.
DeRozan kept moving, trying to drag Seo-jun around the floor, but Seo-jun maintained perfect distance just inside the three-point line, mirroring him step for step.
It was as if he was constantly taunting him: You don’t have a three. You don’t have a three.
Unable to shake him, DeRozan finally received the ball.
Thump. Thump. Bang! A lightning-quick crossover dribble. Then a hesitation move designed to sell the pull-up jumper, followed by a sudden drive to the basket.
Thud! DeRozan lowered his shoulder into Seo-jun and barreled toward the rim.
Once again, he failed to move Seo-jun. He couldn’t get deep enough into the restricted area for a clean layup, but he refused to give up.
Screech! He executed a lightning-fast spin move, twisting his body toward the basket for a layup attempt.
‘Got it!’
But then—swish! A massive hand suddenly appeared from nowhere, directly in the ball’s path.
“…!?”
Smack!! The ball was violently rejected in a thunderous block, flying all the way out near the free-throw line where Jeff Teague dove to snatch it.
“Fast break!”
Seo-jun was already sprinting down the court.
Teague, still on the floor, fired an outlet pass to him. Seo-jun immediately swung the ball to Carroll on the right wing. Carroll then fired a cross-court pass to the streaking Millsap.
Thump. Thump. Millsap attacked from the left forty-five. When Toronto defenders converged on him, he delivered a beautiful left-handed behind-the-back pass to Seo-jun, who was cutting inside the free-throw line.
Catch!
“Hup…!”
The moment he received the ball, Seo-jun launched himself skyward.
Amir Johnson and Terence Ross, who had been trailing Millsap, both leaped in an attempt to contest. But they couldn’t match the momentum of Seo-jun, who had built up a full head of steam.
Boom!! A thunderous one-handed slam, delivered with high arc right over both defenders.
A double in-your-face dunk.
“WOOOOOOOOOW!!”
“Holy…!”
A monstrous dunk that left the broadcast crew screaming and turned the Toronto crowd into a library. It even drew a foul from Amir Johnson. And-one.
“Oh my gosh!?”
“Holy shit!”
“What did I just watch!? What the hell did I just see!?”
The Atlanta bench and players on the court erupted in chaos.
After being mobbed by his teammates with chest bumps and celebration, Seo-jun walked to the free-throw line. As he passed DeRozan, he muttered just loud enough for him to hear.
A heavy counterpunch to the “Welcome to the NBA” he had received earlier.
“Sorry, I didn’t catch what you said earlier. Mind repeating it for me?”
DeRozan’s face turned ice cold.