The official tryout was a formality.
By September, everyone in the gym already knew it. Kobe ran through the drills like he was checking boxes—clean passes, perfect spacing, controlled finishes. He did what was asked and nothing extra.
To him, the drills felt inefficient.
Too much standing. Too many reps without purpose. He filed that away, already thinking about how he'd restructure practices once he had enough influence to do it.
When it ended, Coach Downer didn't announce anything. He just waved Kobe over.
"Come with me."
The office was small. A desk. A couple of folding chairs. Papers stacked in no real order. Downer closed the door and leaned back against it for a second, studying him like he was trying to spot a trick.
"Kobe," he said finally, "you're better than every player on this roster. Including the seniors."
Kobe didn't react.
Downer shook his head. "I've coached long enough to know when I'm seeing something I can't explain. So tell me—what's wrong with you?"
Kobe sat down without being told. Calm. Comfortable. Like he'd been in this conversation before.
"Nothing's wrong," he said. "I'm just ahead."
Downer raised an eyebrow.
Kobe leaned forward slightly, hands on his knees.
"Coach, I'm a prodigy. We both know that."
No arrogance. No smile. Just a statement.
Downer didn't interrupt.
"You went 24–4 last year," Kobe continued. "Best season this program's had in a while. But those seniors carried it. They're gone now."
He paused, letting it land.
"If we run things the same way, we're looking at a slump. Four wins. Maybe six if we get lucky."
Downer straightened.
Kobe kept going.
"I need to start. I need to run the point. Not because of ego—because it's the fastest way to stabilize the team."
Downer opened his mouth, then closed it.
"We need to play faster, but smarter. Space the floor. Punish bad help. Threes from the corners, cuts off overplays. On defense, no freelancing. Everyone has an assignment, and everyone is accountable."
Downer stared at him.
"This isn't high school talk," he said.
Kobe shrugged. "Basketball is basketball."
Silence filled the room.
"I can lead this team," Kobe added. "Not in two years. Now. We can win the state championship if we set the standard early."
Downer exhaled slowly, rubbing his face.
"You're fourteen," he said, almost to himself.
Kobe met his eyes.
"And I'm ready."
Another long pause.
Downer finally nodded once.
"Alright," he said. "You start. You run it."
Kobe stood, already moving on in his head.
As he reached the door, Downer spoke again.
"Kobe?"
He turned.
"I don't know where you learned all this, maybe from your father…" Downer said. "But don't make me regret it."
Kobe nodded.
"I won't."