Sports Medicine Master System-Chapter 50: You Are My Michael

Hill began to train.

He started with simple dribbling and shooting drills.

Chen Yu activated his Eye of All-Seeing, monitoring the changes in Hill’s body.

Beside him, Hardaway watched for a moment before murmuring, "Something seems a little off with him."

Chen Yu wasn’t a professional player, but even he could see the problem.

It wasn’t physical.

Given Hill’s current physical condition, he could completely handle this low-intensity training.

But Chen Yu noticed that Hill was holding back, especially when running and jumping. He would subconsciously lighten the load on his left foot.

It wasn’t a lack of training during his recovery that caused an imbalance between his feet; it was purely psychological.

Having been injured, he was subconsciously afraid of getting hurt again and didn’t dare to exert his full strength.

This was a problem.

Chen Yu made a mental note. The knowledge provided by his [Sports Psychology] skill had information on this; it was a psychological issue.

And the solution was to help him rebuild confidence in his own body, to make him believe he had fully recovered.

After a moment of thought, Chen Yu got up and stood directly in front of Hill.

"Come on, drive past me for a layup," Chen Yu said, pointing to the basket behind him.

Hill froze for a second. ’A crossover?’

He almost instinctively glanced down at his left foot.

Seeing his hesitation, Chen Yu grinned. "What, you’re a superstar. Don’t tell me you’re afraid to drive past an ordinary guy like me."

’If this issue isn’t resolved, it could take him a long time to get back into form once he actually returns to the court.’

The simple taunt worked.

"As if," Hill said, dribbling forward. He performed a simple crossover, easily blew past Chen Yu’s right side, and made the layup.

Chen Yu’s gaze fell on his ankle. There was no problem at all; the newly grown cartilage was more than strong enough to handle that level of intensity.

On the sidelines, Hardaway’s eyes looked a bit lost.

’How he wished he could make a simple layup like that right now.’

The drive was successful, but Chen Yu wasn’t letting Hill off the hook. "Why didn’t you go past my left? Are you afraid to push off with your left foot? What, you don’t even trust me? If I’m telling you to train like this, it means there won’t be any problems."

Hardaway chimed in, egging him on, "Hill, dunk on his head!"

Chen Yu shot him a speechless glare. ’Stop instigating. If you’re so tough, you do it.’

Hill gritted his teeth, did another crossover, and blew past Chen Yu’s left side.

But suddenly, his hands felt empty.

Chen Yu had actually stolen the ball.

"Ooooh," Hardaway said, grinning exaggeratedly.

Chen Yu dribbled the ball, looking rather pleased with himself. "You really think I’m just a pylon? Don’t forget, I grew up in Chicago."

With that, he pulled up for a shot.

WHOOSH.

Fack, an airball!

Chen Yu froze on the spot.

On the sideline, Hardaway couldn’t hold it in any longer. He slapped his thigh and laughed hysterically. "Chen, that was pathetic! Believe it or not, I could make that shot sitting down."

"Shut up," Chen Yu grumbled, his face darkening.

Hill couldn’t help but burst out laughing as well.

But as he laughed, he couldn’t help but look down at his left foot again.

’My left foot... it seems like it’s really okay now.’

"No dunking, though," Chen Yu reminded him, having Hill stick to simple dribbling and shooting.

For Hill, this level of intensity was probably no more than a walk in the park.

Sitting back down, Chen Yu turned to Hardaway. "So? Pretty envious, huh?"

Hardaway didn’t say anything, but the envy in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Chen Yu reached out and patted his shoulder. "Trust me, you’ll also be able to return to the court healthy. I mean one hundred percent healthy."

Hardaway hesitated for a moment before giving a slight nod.

Chen Yu guessed he still had his doubts. After all, their injuries were different.

Hill had cartilage damage, whereas Hardaway had his cartilage removed entirely.

But this was a good start.

Hill’s on-ball training didn’t last too long.

At noon, the two stayed at Hill’s house for lunch.

Tamia, in a good mood, even graced them with a song.

As they sat and chatted after the meal, Chen Yu mentioned his idea of proposing a player health management department within the Players’ Union to Ewing.

"Chen, that’s a brilliant idea," Hill said excitedly. "Team doctors answer to the management, and there’s no one to supervise them. If there were a dedicated department to keep an eye on them, they wouldn’t dare to act so recklessly."

He saw the benefits of this proposal immediately.

Hardaway also nodded thoughtfully.

Both he and Hill had been screwed over by team doctors.

They listen to whoever signs the checks. Whether it’s beneficial for the player or not is entirely a matter of conscience.

Hill pressed, "So what did Patrick say? Did he agree?"

Chen Yu nodded. "He agreed, but it’s been over a week with no news. He’s probably busy with games."

Hill said, "This will require the league’s cooperation, but it shouldn’t be a big problem. I’m sure David will agree."

Injuries to players, especially superstars, directly affect TV ratings. As long as Stern isn’t a fool, he should know which choice to make.

Just as Chen Yu was about to speak, his phone rang.

Seeing the number, Chen Yu slapped his forehead. He just remembered that he’d promised Tracy McGrady another treatment session today.

"Is that Tracy?" Hill thought for a moment, then said, "Have him come over here. And Monty and the others, if anyone’s free, tell them all to come. We can have a party. I haven’t had a chance to properly host them since Tamia arrived."

Besides, Tracy McGrady had also helped out when they pressured the management.

"Is that the high school kid who wears my number 1 jersey?" Hardaway interjected.

Once upon a time, Gabriel had actually told him they planned to retire his number 1 jersey.

But what happened? Out of sight, out of mind. The moment he was gone, they gave it to Tracy McGrady.

Before long, Tracy McGrady arrived.

He was about to greet Hill instinctively, but when he looked up, he suddenly noticed Hardaway.

"Penny!"

Tracy McGrady froze completely.

Hardaway pursed his lips and didn’t move.

Hill stood up, about to smooth things over, when Tracy McGrady suddenly rushed over. He was both excited and flustered, saying nervously, "Penny, I finally get to meet you! No, I mean, I’ve seen you before, but this is the first time I’m meeting you in private."

Playing in the same league, they had of course seen each other, but not many times.

The year he entered the league, Hardaway had just begun to suffer from injuries and missed most of the season. In the ’98-’99 season, McGrady also missed a lot of games due to a back injury. Later on, Hardaway went to the Phoenix Suns, and teams from the East and West only play each other a couple of times a season. They had really only ever seen each other on the court, with no opportunity to talk in private.

Tracy McGrady’s speech became disjointed as he said in disbelief, "Oh my god, what are you doing here? You know, you’re my idol."

’Idol?’

Hardaway blinked. This was news to him.

’So you wear the number 1 jersey... to pay tribute to me?’

Tracy McGrady nodded repeatedly. "When I was a kid, I actually played baseball. But my mother worked at Disney back then, so I often came to Orlando to watch you play. Penny, if it weren’t for you, I might have just kept playing baseball. I only started playing basketball because I wanted to be like you."

"You could say, you were my Michael Jordan."

At nine years old, McGrady had led his team to a Florida state baseball championship. If he had stuck with it, he might have had a spot in Major League Baseball.

But it was because of Hardaway that he chose the path of basketball.

This outpouring of genuine emotion from McGrady actually made Hardaway feel a bit awkward.

Chen Yu grinned and teased, "So, Penny, what do you think? Is he still allowed to wear your number 1 jersey?"

Hardaway’s expression changed, and he quickly said, "Of course he can!"

To have a fan wear his jersey to pay tribute to him, and for that fan to become a star in his own right—Hardaway actually felt proud.

Speaking of fans, Hardaway thought for a moment and said, "Speaking of which, Kobe... Shaq told me that he used to really look up to me too. He ran up to ask for a photo with me, but I ignored him."

At this, Hardaway let out a soft, melancholic sigh.

His own fan had already won a championship, while he was still struggling with injuries.

Chen Yu guessed what Hardaway was thinking and patted him on the back.

’But since you’ve met me, you still have a chance.’