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The next morning, inside the Lakers' practice facility locker room.
When Link pushed the door open, a few guys were already there.
The vibe was a little weird.
Farmar was loudly recounting an embarrassing story from his date the night before.
Vujacic was offering exaggerated laughs on cue, but his eyes kept darting toward the door.
Link walked to his locker and started changing into his practice gear.
"Hey, Link." Odom was the first to walk over, leaning against the neighboring locker.
"That dunk last night? Maggette's face when he hit the floor... I swear, I'm gonna wake up laughing about that in my dreams."
"He deserved it," Bynum chimed in, poking his head out from the other side.
"Dude struts around flexing his muscles all day, and you just kicked his ass."
Link smiled but didn't say anything.
The atmosphere suddenly grew heavy again.
"Hey, brother, listen..." Odom scratched his head, hesitating.
Link turned around, giving him a questioning look.
"I heard about the trade stuff," Odom said after a pause. "But I gotta say, I'm damn glad you're staying!"
The others looked over, too.
No matter what, trade rumors mid-season always stir up subtle emotions in a locker room.
"I've got your back, man. We're playing great this season!" Odom continued.
"You can't trade for chemistry."
"Exactly," Farmar stopped joking around and said seriously.
"Link, you make me look like a better point guard." He paused, then smiled. "You're always in the right spot to catch those passes."
"Honestly, half the credit for my assist numbers should go to you."
Bynum was even more direct. "Screw Marion. We play well together. No need to change anything!"
Luke Walton, one of the locker room leaders, also spoke up.
"Link, they're right. Dr. Buss made the right call. You're one of us. Simple as that."
Vujacic walked over and patted Link on the shoulder.
"Look at this, bro. Someone Photoshopped Marion's face onto Maggette in that dunk photo. Feels good, right?"
Everyone laughed, and the tension in the room finally broke.
Just then, the locker room door swung open.
Kobe walked in. He was already in his practice gear. His gaze swept over everyone before landing on Link.
"Done chatting?" Kobe's voice wasn't loud, but it instantly silenced the room.
"Dr. Buss has made his decision. Link stays. Marion isn't coming. That's the end of it."
Kobe said it while adjusting his gear.
He paused, then turned to face the entire room.
"Today... I only care about how we beat the Orlando Magic. Nothing else matters."
The locker room was dead silent.
Link took a deep breath, stood up first, and extended his hand.
Silence for two seconds.
Then Odom stood up, walked over to Link, and firmly placed his right hand on top of Link's.
Then the others followed.
Bynum, Walton, Farmar...
Kobe was the last one.
He walked over, looking each person in the eye.
"LAKERS!"
"WIN!!!"
The chant wasn't deafening, but it completely shattered any lingering unease caused by the trade rumors.
"Get back! Get back! Orlando pushes the pace!" Brian Shaw shouted.
Inside the practice facility, the Lakers were running through drills.
Tonight, the Orlando Magic were visiting Los Angeles.
---
Their core was the young center, Dwight Howard.
The first overall pick of the 2004 NBA Draft.
A 6'10" super-athlete.
The photo of him kissing the rim during his rookie season had made him famous.
This season, he was averaging 17.8 points, 12.5 rebounds, and 2.7 blocks.
The league's block leader and a Defensive Player of the Year caliber anchor.
In the Eastern Conference All-Star voting, he trailed only LeBron James.
Of course, Link knew Howard's future.
In 2013, he would arrive in Los Angeles via a massive four-team trade.
Forming a "Big Four" with Gasol, Kobe, and an aging Nash.
That Lakers team had once fueled endless imagination.
But in the end, Howard's immaturity led to terrible team chemistry.
Kobe tore his Achilles tendon trying to drag the Purple and Gold into the playoffs.
He never returned to his peak after that.
It remained a thorn in the heart of every Lakers fan.
Later, Howard bounced around the Rockets, Hawks, Hornets, Wizards, and other teams.
He returned to the Lakers in 2020.
Helping the team win a championship as a role player off the bench.
But by then, everything had changed.
"Watch the switch!" Brian Shaw's shout pulled Link back to reality.
Practice continued.
Link was on the court, constantly stretching the defense with his off-ball movement.
The pace was fast. Whenever a shot missed, the Lakers' transition defense set up quickly.
When Kobe hit another mid-range jumper over a defender, the Zen Master blew the whistle.
---
Tweet! Phil Jackson stopped the scrimmage.
The players gathered on the sideline, gasping for air.
The Zen Master picked up a marker and drew the Magic's basic formation on the whiteboard.
"The Magic's system is simple," Jackson noted on the board.
"One inside, four out. Dwight in the post, the other four spread out beyond the arc."
He drew four small circles spaced out. "Nelson, Turkoglu, Redick, or Ariza..."
"Their job is to space the floor, wait for Dwight to draw the double, and catch and shoot."
"So how do we defend that?" Bynum asked, his expression serious.
Tonight, he would be matched up directly against Howard.
"Andrew, you have the heaviest load." The Zen Master looked at Bynum.
"Hold your ground. Force him to finish in ways he's uncomfortable with. Be very careful of his second-chance points!"
"If he really gets deep post position," Jackson continued, "the weak side needs to double decisively. But remember..."
"Double fast, recover fast. The Magic's shooters aren't just for show!"
After speaking, the Zen Master's gaze shifted to someone else.
"As for Turkoglu..."
Jackson circled Turkoglu's name.
"He is the Magic's real initiator. The point forward. Averaging 4.3 assists."
Jackson looked at Link. "Link, you've got Turkoglu tonight. Watch his passing lanes."
"Especially the pick-and-roll with Dwight!" Jackson added.
Link nodded. He remembered Turkoglu's game well.
High IQ, great pace. Not a top-tier scorer, but he always made the right play.
"On offense," Jackson turned to the group, "the mid-range is the blind spot in the Magic's defense."
"Link, keep moving. Create isolation opportunities for Kobe."
"..."
The Zen Master kept pausing, explaining, and adjusting for over an hour.
After it ended, the players headed to the locker room.
Link walked at the back. He looked up at the clock on the wall.
5:00 PM.
More than two hours until the 7:30 PM tip-off.
Staff members were already trickling in.
Game time was approaching.