The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 77 - 17 1984

[1984, it finally arrived — the year of George Orwell’s grand and terrifying vision of the future...

Young punks felt despair towards the world as they watched CBS, MTV, ESPN begin to dominate people’s vision, the managerial company of Michael Jackson and Pepsi-Cola counting stacks of cash with overflowing smiles. All these corporations were inspired by the historic transformation brought by the "Thriller" album, as pop culture entered a new stage...

In January of 1984, Jackson’s hair caught fire while filming a Pepsi-Cola commercial, but this did not stop him from sweeping the Grammys in February, winning eight major awards. His appearance at the Grammy Awards ceremony sent advertising offers skyrocketing... The film industry also felt this wind, with MTV strengthening the collaboration between film and music, targeting young viewers and aspiring to be the spokesperson for teen rebellion and anxiety...

In politics, the Jackson was Ronald Reagan, and, like Jackson, Reagan’s voice inevitably carried a conservative tone, but once polished, it appeared fresh. However, what was more surprising was the NCAA national competition in March 1984, where a Catholic school from the Northwest sparked a frenzy across America, pushing traditional values to a peak...]

————Excerpt from "We’re Not Here to Entertain" ("We’re Not here to Entertain: Punk Rock, Ronald Reagan and the Real Culture Wars of the 1980s") by Kevin Mattson, published in 2012.

At 5:30 in the morning, as the sky was still dim, a group of people in red athletic shirts ran in a neat formation along the twisting riverside road on the north bank of the Spokane River.

The early spring morning air was ice-cold, with a hint of moisture, as thick fog drifted and spread from the river’s surface, enveloping the roads and buildings along the river.

They ran with care and order, in eye-catching red attire, avoiding vehicles and pedestrians.

Following the river northward, the group gradually left the riverside area and entered the City of Spokane, approaching the nearby Gonzaga Preparatory School, which boasted a large stadium, the only football field in Spokane.

Without lingering, the group turned westward, heading towards the direction of Spokane Falls Community College. As the morning fog slowly dissipated, the group’s running pace gradually increased, yet no one fell behind.

Upon reaching the Dwight Merkel Sports Complex, the fog had cleared and the sun had risen; the group then turned south, on the road back to the starting point, beginning to pick up speed.

The front runner shouted, "Sprint!", and the red group accelerated like arrows released from their bows, rushing past houses, stores, parks, laundromats, and parking lots, sweeping through every ordinary corner of the small town like a red wind.

Vehicles and pedestrians on the road gave way to them, children going to school stopped their bicycles to cheer "Go Gonzaga."

Cars halted to honk at them, the elderly out for morning exercises clapped for them, and even old ladies out for a stroll waved their canes to show encouragement.

The high-speed sprint put enormous pressure on their physical endurance, and the originally tight group was stretched out, but no one stopped, and no one fell behind. When they saw the black twin spires of St. Aloysius Catholic Church, everyone knew the finish line was not far.

The leading sheep shouted again, "Last burst!", and, as if he had turbocharged engines installed, he was still able to accelerate, charging towards the direction of the church.

By this time, those behind could no longer keep up and continue sprinting, so they had to run at an even pace to the finish line, stopping in the square in front of the church, gasping for breath, and spitting saliva, the taste of blood filling their throats.

"Everyone performed well today; not a single person fell behind, which is quite remarkable. This is our last morning run before the national competition begins. Rest is even more important in the next few days. Conserving energy is the top priority, as the consumption during the national competition will be very, very high."

Beelman was clutching his stopwatch, holding a clipboard to record the players’ scores. Early in the morning, running half a circle around the City of Spokane was a basic warm-up for the Gonzaga Bulldogs training day.

He remembered when he first came to Gonzaga, the players could hardly bear his inhuman physical training, with only Stockton feeling it was a drizzle and could quite easily persevere.

Now, everyone was able to keep up, including monsters like Gan Guoyang, who, after running, stood there without so much as gasping for breath.

Beelman said to Gan Guoyang, "You ran too slow, only 29 seconds ahead of the second place. You should be more than 30 seconds ahead."

"I am the leader; I have to be seen by everyone. Besides, everyone is improving, and it’s hard for me to go further. I ran as hard as I could."

Beelman was pleased with Gan Guoyang’s reply. Then he noticed a person in the nearby bushes, rapidly snapping photos of them with a camera. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

He yelled, "Hey! What the hell are you doing, you son of a bitch? Which newspaper are you with? Are we some kind of state secret weapon, or Soviet spies, that you have to keep an eye on us like this!"

As he spoke, Beelman jogged forward and pulled the person out from the bushes. The media harassment that the Bulldogs team had faced lately was just too much.

During the national competition preparations, all hotel rooms near Gonzaga University had been booked solid, with reporters from newspapers, radio stations, and television stations all over the country dispatched here, hoping to catch a glimpse of information about the team.

To protect the players’ privacy and allow the team to focus on preparations, Beelman refused all photography and interview requests. He did not want these young people to be disturbed.