Chapter 229: Watching March Madness! The Suns' Winter is Over!
After the exhausting battle against the Lakers, Chen Yan slept like a rock. By the time he woke up, it was already noon.
Still, he wasn't worried. Coach Mike D'Antoni had given the team a full day off—no practices, no meetings, just rest. The Suns' schedule had been brutal, and everyone needed time to recharge.
After lunch, Chen and Taylor relaxed at home, watching a romantic movie together and enjoying a quiet afternoon. For once, the chaos of the season felt distant.
That evening, the couple decided to head out and watch an NCAA tournament game. March Madness was in full swing, and tonight's matchup was a big one: UCLA versus the University of Memphis.
When they arrived, the atmosphere in the arena was electric. The roaring crowd, the band, the sea of school colors—it all reminded Chen how far he had come. Just a year ago, he had been one of those college players fighting for a shot, unknown and unproven. Now, he was one of the NBA's brightest rising stars.
Before the game started, Chen walked courtside to greet some of the players.
First up was Memphis' explosive point guard, Derrick Rose. On the court, Rose was lightning. Off it, he was quiet and a little shy, a stark contrast to his aggressive playing style. When Chen approached, Rose smiled politely, shaking his hand like he was meeting a hero.
After a few words, Chen headed toward the UCLA bench. There, he was greeted by a group of familiar young faces—Kevin Love, Russell Westbrook, and Darren Collison. The trio lit up when they saw him.
"Chen!" Love was the first to speak, shaking his hand warmly. At this stage, Love still carried some baby fat, his frame resembling what fans might later call a "mini Jokic."
"Didn't expect to see you here!" Love laughed.
Chen grinned. "Had to come watch the next generation."
Before he could say more, a young Westbrook bounded over with uncontainable energy.
"Man, I can't believe it's you! I've been watching your games—your style is sick!"
Chen chuckled, noticing the same fiery spark in Westbrook's eyes that he once had. "I've heard about you too, Russell. Love your explosiveness. Keep that fire—you'll need it in the league."
Westbrook puffed out his chest. "Don't worry, I plan to get a triple-double tonight!"
The comment drew laughter from everyone nearby. Westbrook's bravado was already showing long before he ever touched an NBA floor.
"I'll be watching," Chen replied with a smile.
Then, out of nowhere, Westbrook hesitated, glanced toward the stands, and pulled out a black marker. "Uh, Chen… I was wondering if you could maybe—uh—ask Taylor for an autograph? Maybe even a signed CD?"
Chen froze, eyes narrowing. "You're asking me to get my girlfriend's autograph for you?"
Love and Collison burst out laughing. "Russell's a huge fan," Love said. "He plays Taylor's songs all day—dorm, gym, you name it."
"Especially 'See You Again!'" Collison added. "We all know it by heart now."
Westbrook scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish.
Chen sighed dramatically. "A signed CD, huh? That depends on how you play tonight. Impress me, and I'll throw in a pair of AeroWing All-Stars too."
Westbrook's eyes widened. "For real? The All-Star colorway?"
Chen nodded.
That was all it took. From the opening tip, Westbrook was a blur, scoring four quick points with fearless drives to the rim. But his intensity soon backfired—three straight possessions, three straight turnovers.
By the next timeout, he forced up a wild jumper that bricked off the backboard. Chen couldn't help but laugh from the sidelines. "Some things never change," he thought. Westbrook's fearless aggression was both his gift and his curse.
After a brief benching, the young guard returned with renewed focus. He attacked more patiently, slashing through the defense with precision. On the other side, Derrick Rose responded in kind. Rose's pace, control, and effortless finishing reminded everyone why he was projected as the number-one pick.
The crowd was treated to a show—two future NBA stars trading blows long before they'd ever meet in the pros.
The game's pace was wild, fast, and reckless, but the energy was unmatched. This was college basketball at its finest: raw passion, pure emotion.
As the fans roared, even Chen found himself on his feet, cheering. He wasn't rooting for any team—he was simply swept up in the thrill of March Madness. It reminded him of his own journey just a year ago.
When the final buzzer sounded, Memphis took the win, 85–76.
Rose was unstoppable down the stretch, driving Memphis to victory. On the other end, UCLA's players looked heartbroken. For most of them, there would be another chance next season—but not for Westbrook and Love, who had already declared for the upcoming NBA draft.
Westbrook was visibly emotional. His frustration was clear as he sat on the bench, towel over his head. Before leaving, Chen approached him, patting him on the shoulder.
"You played well," Chen said. "Keep that fire. I'll send you that CD—and the shoes."
Westbrook nodded silently, his expression softening.
True to his word, Chen later sent Westbrook a signed Taylor Swift CD and a pair of AeroWing sneakers. When the media picked up the story, it went viral. Fans loved it—the NBA's rising star encouraging the next wave of talent.
Westbrook, still a college kid at the time, suddenly found himself with a surge of attention. Chen Yan's small gesture had turned him into an early fan favorite.
After a well-earned rest, Chen returned to the Suns.
The next five games were mixed—three wins, two losses—but the team's spirit remained high.
Then came the best news of all: on April 3rd, Steve Nash officially announced his return. Fans erupted in celebration. "The Suns' winter is finally over!" headlines declared.
In the fourteen games Nash had missed, Phoenix had gone 10–4, staying near the top of the standings thanks largely to Chen Yan's leadership.
D'Antoni couldn't stop singing his praises.
"Chen doesn't act like a rookie," the coach told reporters. "He's already carrying this team like a veteran. I'm proud of how far he's come."
The internet had its own take:
"Being the Suns' coach is the easiest job in the NBA—all you have to do is praise Chen Yan!"
"Easy? You try finding a new way to praise him every day!"
"Chen Yan isn't D'Antoni's player; he's his son!"
"Son? Nah, that's his father now—D'Antoni's learning from him!"
"Without Chen Yan, the Suns would be a lottery team by now."
"The Suns can't survive without Chen Yan, just like the West can't survive without sunlight!"
It all boiled down to one truth:
Chen Yan wasn't just the Suns' rising star—he was their heart, their rhythm, and their future.
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