Chapter 342: Chapter 287: Little Curry, Part 3

Chen Yu shot Brian an exasperated look and rolled his eyes. "Brian, the league has plenty of rookies, not just veterans. Can you please pay attention to them for a change and stop obsessing over these old-timers?"

As soon as Brian heard Chen Yu was back in Phoenix, he came scurrying over to ask if Derek McKie, one of the former Supersonics’ "Three Musketeers," could play for another year.

’What was Chen Yu supposed to say? That the guy was already 36 and about to retire? Or that he’d suffered a major injury with the Pacers and was a shadow of his former self?’

’It’s enough to make me want to quit. Taking care of this whole crew of old-timers is exhausting, you know?’

Brian picked up on the complaint in Chen Yu’s tone. His expression shifted, and he quickly said, "You’re right. The league has a bunch of rookies. We can’t just focus on the veterans. We should also put some energy into developing new talent. That Devin Brown kid is pretty good. He’s been playing well."

Chen Yu just shook his head.

’Who was that again? An undrafted rookie, I think.’

’Didn’t they say they didn’t care about the luxury tax and were ready to spend big? But all we get are veterans and undrafted rookies. This place is turning into a nursing home.’

Just then, his phone vibrated.

He pulled it out to see a message from Su Jun. It said the Basketball Association had officially announced its support for Liu Yudong signing with the Suns, and that the news had caused a massive stir back in China.

’So, the appetizer is on the table.’

Chen Yu sent a simple "Got it" in reply, then set the time and place for the exclusive interview to be in Indiana.

For Chen Yu, this whole affair was just a minor interruption in his daily work.

’If it works out, great. It would be good to help Liu Yudong, a player I respect. If not, well, I’ve done all I can.’

For now, Chen Yu’s focus was still on the bunch of old-timers at his clinic.

"Shaq, take a break," Chen Yu said as he walked over, signaling for O’Neal to stop.

O’Neal sat down, a wide grin on his face. He’d been constantly complaining to Chen Yu that his foot hadn’t healed properly yet, that it still hurt, and that he couldn’t possibly start his rehabilitation training just yet.

Only to be shut down by Chen Yu’s simple question: "Are you the doctor, or am I?"

"Can I take a bath?" O’Neal asked, looking up.

Chen Yu nodded helplessly.

The "bath" he was talking about was actually the microgravity Floating Pod. The guy had gotten completely hooked after trying it just once.

Just then, a man approached from a distance with a child by his side.

"Chen. Brian," he called out while still a ways off.

It was Dale Curry.

He walked up, put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, and introduced him.

It was his eldest son, Stephen Curry.

Chen Yu glanced at the skinny, frail-looking kid and asked Old Curry what was up.

"Well, it’s like this," Old Curry began, rubbing his hands together. He pointed to his son. "Chen, I know you opened a sports lab and use all sorts of advanced equipment to research and solve problems for athletes. You also understand training, plus you’re the best doctor from back home. So, I was hoping you could help me with something."

He glanced at Little Curry and continued, "Could you take a look at this kid for me? Evaluate his athleticism. He’s just too skinny. Look at this."

He lifted Little Curry’s arm, which was as thin as a twig.

The little guy hung his head, too shy to say a word.

"And if possible, maybe you could develop a personalized training plan to help him improve. Of course, money is no object. Whatever it costs." Old Curry looked at his eldest son with a troubled expression.

He’s already fourteen, but he’s not even five-foot-seven tall yet, and he weighs just over 110 pounds.

It’s not like he’s lacking for steak or any other good food and drink. I’m an NBA player, for goodness’ sake. My income isn’t low. He’s never wanted for anything to eat or drink, but he just won’t get any taller.

It got to the point where Old Curry was starting to wonder if he had some kind of developmental disorder.

After joining the Suns from the Raptors this season, Old Curry moved his whole family to Phoenix to take care of his two kids, and especially to oversee their training. They had just arrived recently.

Old Curry knew that getting a professional, personally tailored training plan during puberty could be a huge help for a player’s future development.

That’s why he’d brought his son to Chen Yu.

"Sure, no problem," Chen Yu nodded.

Just last month, before Ewing left Phoenix, he had asked Chen Yu if there were any training methods to make his son, who played at Georgetown University, stronger.

’I just didn’t expect this side of the business to pick up so quickly.’

His gaze fell on Little Curry.

He had to admit, for his age, that height and weight were definitely on the low side.

As for his lack of height, Chen Yu suspected genetics were the bigger factor. After all, Old Curry himself wasn’t exceptionally tall—barefoot, he was six-four, tops.

And his wife didn’t seem to be tall either.

So, being under five-foot-seven at fourteen was definitely short by a basketball player’s standards. But for a normal person, it was perfectly average.

"Come with me."

Chen Yu beckoned to Little Curry and led him to the basketball court inside, having him perform some basic tests like running and jumping.

"Stephen, try taking some shots!" Old Curry called out to his son from the sidelines. Then he turned to Chen Yu. "I think he has a great shot. He must have inherited my talent."

Chen Yu nodded, torn between laughter and exasperation. ’Is he praising his son or himself?’

On the court, Little Curry grabbed the basketball and pushed it toward the hoop.

’Probably due to a lack of upper-body strength.’

But, you had to hand it to him, he was surprisingly accurate. He could even hit threes.

"Chen, did you know? Back in Toronto, he scored 63 points in one game for his middle school team. Broke the school record," Dale said, his face beaming with pride. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Chen Yu didn’t say anything.

’Middle school games aren’t much of a benchmark.’

Watching Little Curry run around on the court, Chen Yu believed he had likely inherited some of his father’s shooting talent, but his physical conditioning could only be described as thoroughly average.

It’s not like Old Curry himself was a great physical specimen to begin with.

"By the way, Dale, how are his grades?" Chen Yu asked suddenly.

"They’re okay, I guess."

Dale answered reflexively. A moment later, the implication of the question dawned on him. He frowned. "Chen, what are you trying to say? That he’s not cut out for basketball?"

Asking about his grades—the subtext was clear: if he wasn’t going to make it in basketball, he’d better hit the books and find another path.

Since Dale had caught on, Chen Yu decided to be direct. "Dale, I’m not saying he can’t have a career in sports. But for him, I believe it will be an incredibly difficult road. The key limiting factor—just as you pointed out yourself—is his physical condition."

A good shot doesn’t even count as a real strength. Pretty much everyone who makes it to the NBA can shoot.

It’s not that physical talent is the only thing that matters, but without the physique, it’s incredibly hard to establish yourself in the NBA.

He’d have to put in an immense amount of effort.

Especially in this era, where big men rule the paint and the league increasingly preaches that defense wins championships. Without a strong physique, it’s truly difficult to get an opportunity in the NBA.

"You’ve played professionally. You should know better than anyone how hard this path is. So, while finding ways to make up for his shortcomings is one approach, you can’t get your hopes up too high. You need to have a backup plan," Chen Yu concluded.

Old Curry watched his son running on the court and fell into deep thought.