Fergus rubbed both eyes with the palms of his hands and shook his head, half expecting the strange white screen to disappear by the time he looked again.
When he opened his eyes, however, the translucent rectangle remained suspended in front of him, displaying the same impossible message as before.
‘Welcome, Fergus Robertson.
You have been selected as the host of the Basketball Development System.’ For several seconds, Fergus could do little more than stare at the words.
His first thought was that the headache had done something to him.
Perhaps he had been outside too long, or maybe he had somehow hit his head without noticing.
He had never heard of a headache causing floating words to appear in front of someone’s face, but that explanation still seemed more believable than accepting that some magical basketball screen had suddenly appeared in his life.
Fergus cautiously turned his head towards the lounge window.
His father was no longer standing there, although Fergus could see the light inside the house.
For a moment, he considered going inside and telling him what had happened, but he quickly imagined how that conversation would go.
He could hardly walk through the door and announce that a magical basketball system had appeared in front of him without his father thinking something was seriously wrong.
After the headache Fergus had just experienced, Hamish would probably have him on the way to hospital before he could explain what the strange screen had actually said.
Curiosity eventually overcame his concern.
Fergus slowly reached towards the screen and attempted to touch the words.
His fingers met no resistance whatsoever, passing directly through the strange rectangle until he could see his own hand on the other side.
He pulled his hand back and tried again, this time moving it across the surface as though he were swiping across a tablet, but nothing happened.
“What am I supposed to do with you, then?
I can’t exactly press anything if my hand goes straight through.” The words immediately disappeared.
Fergus jumped backwards in surprise before another message appeared in their place.
‘The Basketball Development System grants its host access to developmental resources designed to assist in the improvement of basketball skills, knowledge and abilities.’ ‘Would you like to begin?’ ‘Yes / No’ Fergus’s heart began beating considerably faster as he read the message.
A small, sensible part of his mind suggested that agreeing to something offered by a mysterious floating screen might not be particularly intelligent.
Fergus had no idea where it had come from, why it had selected him or what agreeing to become its host might actually mean.
There could have been any number of consequences hidden behind those innocent-looking words.
Then Fergus read the first part again.
It could help him improve at basketball.
Only half an hour earlier, his father had been explaining that their family couldn’t easily afford the expenses that would come with playing for his school team.
Fergus had spent years trying to teach himself by watching basketball online and then stumbling through whatever exercises he could recreate on his own.
Now, somehow, something impossible was offering him exactly the kind of help he had always wanted.
There was never really much chance of a nearly thirteen-year-old basketball fanatic saying no.
“Yes, of course I want to begin.
I don’t really know what you are, but if you can actually help me get better at basketball, I’m definitely saying yes.” The screen changed almost instantly, revealing five rectangular tabs arranged neatly in front of him.
‘Player’ ‘Player Skills’ ‘Inventory’ ‘Skill Library’ ‘Shop’ Fergus looked between the different options with growing excitement.
It reminded him of the menu from a video game, although no game he had ever played had followed him into his driveway and floated directly in front of his face.
Another message appeared beneath the five tabs.
‘System functions may be accessed through physical selection or verbal command.
The host may also mentally focus upon a desired menu while issuing a verbal command to improve navigation efficiency.’ Fergus read the explanation twice before looking towards the first option.
“All right, let’s start with Player.
That sounds simple enough.” The remaining tabs disappeared as a larger window opened in their place.
Fergus’s excitement briefly gave way to surprise when he saw his own name displayed across the top, followed by information that the System somehow already knew about him.
Player Profile Name: Fergus Robertson Age: 12 Height: 5’3″ Weight: 98 lbs Blood Type: O+ Primary Position: Undetermined Secondary Position: Undetermined Career History: No recorded competitive history.
Fergus stared at the information for a while before his eyes settled upon his weight.
“Ninety-eight pounds isn’t that bad.
I’m not that skinny.” The System offered no response, which caused Fergus to glance down at his narrow arms before reluctantly reconsidering his statement.
“Fine, maybe I’m a bit skinny.
I’m still growing, though.” His attention moved towards the positional information.
That bothered him considerably more than his weight.
“Why does it say my position is undetermined?
I’m a point guard.” A response appeared almost immediately.
‘No recognised competitive playing history has been recorded.
Positional designation will update according to competitive experience, physical development and established playing role.’ Fergus frowned at the explanation.
“I always play point guard when I’m practising.
Well, I suppose I’m normally practising by myself, but that’s still what I want to play.” ‘Practising independently does not establish a competitive playing position.’ Fergus stared at the message for a moment before shaking his head.
“You could’ve just said no.” The System didn’t respond.
He couldn’t really argue with it anyway.
Fergus liked the idea of becoming a point guard because many of the players he enjoyed watching were guards, but wanting to play a position and actually being capable of doing it were very different things.
He hadn’t even made his school team yet, so declaring himself a point guard probably didn’t mean very much.
The empty career history beneath his profile suddenly felt less like missing information and more like something waiting to be filled.
Fergus imagined team names eventually appearing there, accompanied by games played and statistics from different seasons.
The thought made him smile before he remembered that he needed to make his school team before worrying about anything beyond it.
“Show me Player Skills.” The profile disappeared, and another section opened.
Unlike the Player menu, this one was almost completely empty.
There was only a single card positioned in the centre of the screen.
It had a green border surrounding the silhouette of a basketball player bent forward with his hands resting upon his knees, sweat dripping from his face.
‘A Star’s Work Ethic Tier: Green – Intermediate Understanding’ Fergus leaned closer, immediately intrigued by the fact that he apparently already possessed a skill.
“What’s A Star’s Work Ethic?
I haven’t unlocked anything yet.” The card expanded, revealing a more detailed description.
‘A Star’s Work Ethic’ Basketball development requires more than repetition.
A player must understand what is being trained, recognise mistakes and gradually convert instruction into instinct.
The host possesses an established willingness to practise independently, repeat unsuccessful actions and continue working through frustration.
Effect: Increases the host’s learning comprehension when studying and training basketball skills.
The host will more easily understand instruction, recognise errors and absorb lessons gained through purposeful practice.
Current Tier: Green – Intermediate Understanding.
Fergus read the description once before going back to the beginning and reading it again more carefully.
“So this helps me learn basketball faster?” ‘Correct.
A Star’s Work Ethic improves the efficiency with which the host comprehends and learns basketball-related skills during purposeful training.
It does not eliminate the need for repetition, physical development or practical experience.’ That sounded far more useful than Fergus had initially expected.
If someone had offered him a magical ability, he probably would have asked for perfect shooting or incredible dribbling without thinking very hard about it.
Learning faster didn’t sound quite as exciting, but Fergus understood enough about his own situation to appreciate what it could mean.
He didn’t have a personal trainer correcting every mistake he made.
Most of the time, Fergus watched something online, went outside and attempted to teach it to himself.
Half the difficulty was understanding why something wasn’t working.
If A Star’s Work Ethic made it easier for him to recognise those mistakes and understand the correct movement, then every hour he spent practising could potentially become more valuable.
What pleased him even more was that the System hadn’t given him the skill.
He had already earned it.
“So I had this before you appeared?” ‘Correct.
A Star’s Work Ethic was identified as an existing characteristic compatible with System classification.
The System has formalised this characteristic as a developmental skill.’ Fergus couldn’t stop a pleased grin from appearing.
He knew he wasn’t particularly talented.
Several boys at school were stronger than him, and some seemed better at basketball despite practising considerably less.
There had been plenty of evenings when that annoyed him, particularly when something he had practised for hours still refused to work properly.
Working hard was the one thing Fergus had always believed he could control.
Apparently the System agreed.
His attention eventually moved towards the green border surrounding the card.
“What does green mean?
I’m guessing it’s better than grey if this works anything like most games.” A new explanation appeared beside the card, displaying five different colours with a description accompanying each one.
‘Skill understanding is divided into five stages.’ Grey – Basic Understanding Green – Intermediate Understanding Yellow – Competent Understanding Orange – Excelled Understanding Red – Transcendent Understanding Fergus’s eyes immediately travelled towards the final stage.
“What exactly does transcendent understanding mean?
Is that basically saying you’re one of the best in the world at something?” ‘Transcendent Understanding represents comprehension and execution exceeding conventional mastery of the relevant skill.
Exact performance varies according to the nature of the skill, physical capability and competitive circumstances.’ Fergus thought about the explanation before nodding slowly.
“So basically really, really good, but you’re making it sound complicated.” ‘Simplified interpretation accepted.’ Fergus laughed quietly.
“I think I’m going to like you.” He returned his attention to A Star’s Work Ethic.
Green was only the second of five stages, which meant even the characteristic he was apparently best at still had an enormous amount of room to develop.
“How do I get it to yellow?
Do I have to earn experience points or something?” ‘Skill advancement requirements vary according to the nature and complexity of each skill.
Advancement thresholds may include training volume, successful repetitions, competitive application, statistical achievements, missions, comprehension milestones or other relevant developmental requirements.’ Fergus’s excitement diminished slightly when he realised how much work some of that sounded like.
“So I can’t just collect enough points and press an upgrade button?” ‘No.
Skill mastery must be developed.’ “Can I buy an upgrade from the Shop?” ‘Certain developmental resources may be acquired through the System.
Fundamental requirements for skill progression cannot be entirely bypassed.’ Fergus considered that for a moment before accepting it.
If the System simply made him brilliant without requiring any effort, there wouldn’t be much point in training, and training had never been the part of basketball he disliked.
If anything, knowing that his work could now lead somewhere made him want to start immediately.
“Show me the Skill Library.” The menu shifted again, and Fergus’s eyes widened when rows of cards appeared before him.
Unlike the nearly empty Player Skills section, the Skill Library seemed enormous.
Cards extended beyond the visible portion of the screen, arranged into categories that Fergus could move through simply by concentrating upon them.
Most of the cards were darkened, with small locks displayed over their images, but enough of the artwork remained visible for him to understand what some represented.
One showed a player planting his feet as an opponent crashed into his chest.
Another depicted someone extending one arm towards the basket in the unmistakable motion of a sky hook.
There were cards depicting dribbling, passing, rebounding, shooting, screens, defensive movements and techniques Fergus couldn’t immediately recognise.
“How many skills are actually in here?
There have to be hundreds.” ‘The Skill Library contains developmental skills across technical, physical, tactical and mental aspects of basketball.
Additional sections may become available as the host progresses.’ “That’s not really an answer to how many there are.” The System remained silent, and Fergus took that to mean he wasn’t getting a better response.
He began moving through the library anyway.
Some of the skill names were straightforward enough for him to understand immediately, while others made him curious enough to select them.
Each time he attempted to open one of the darkened cards, however, the same message appeared.
‘Locked.
Unlock conditions have not been met.’ After receiving the same response several times, Fergus folded his arms.
“Can I actually unlock any of these now, or are you just showing me loads of things I can’t have?” ‘Skills may be unlocked through missions, developmental milestones, achievements, random rewards, Skill Library requirements and System purchases.’ That restored some of his enthusiasm.
The library wasn’t simply going to hand everything to him, but neither was it permanently inaccessible.
Every locked card represented something Fergus might eventually be able to learn if he met whatever requirements the System placed in front of him.
He returned to the main menu and opened the Shop.
This section was considerably easier to understand.
Cards were arranged beside prices denominated in a currency Fergus had never heard of, while the upper corner of the screen displayed his current balance.
‘Hooper Coins: 1,000’ Most of the visible cards were grey or green, with prices that varied considerably depending upon the skill.
Fergus scrolled through several of them before a yellow card caught his attention.
The artwork showed a defender reaching towards an offensive player and knocking the basketball cleanly from his hand.
‘The Cookie Thief Tier: Yellow – Competent Understanding Price: 50,000 Hooper Coins’ Fergus stared at the price in disbelief.
“Fifty thousand?
I’ve only got a thousand.
Why are you showing me something that costs fifty times more than everything I have?” ‘Shop inventory is not restricted according to the host’s current purchasing power.’ “Well, that’s not very helpful.” He opened the card anyway.
‘The Cookie Thief’ Possession is precious.
Take it from them.
Develops anticipation, timing and hand placement when attempting to steal the basketball from an active dribbler.
Fergus immediately wanted it.
He imagined himself at school tryouts stripping the ball away from everyone who attempted to dribble near him, and the thought alone was enough to make fifty thousand Hooper Coins suddenly seem like a very important number.
“How do I earn more coins?
I’m guessing you’re not going to let me use normal money.” ‘Hooper Coins may be earned through missions, achievements, developmental milestones and selected System rewards.
Conventional currency cannot be exchanged for Hooper Coins.’ “So I actually have to earn them by playing basketball and doing whatever missions you give me?” ‘Correct.’ Fergus nodded approvingly.
“That’s fair.
Fifty thousand is still ridiculous, though.” He returned to the main menu and looked towards the only section he hadn’t explored.
“Show me the Inventory.” Sixteen boxes appeared in a four-by-four arrangement.
Fourteen were completely empty, while the first two slots contained identical grey cards decorated with large question marks.
Fergus leaned closer.
‘Beginner Random Skill Card.
Quantity: 2’ His excitement immediately returned.
“Are these mine already, or are you going to tell me I have to pay for them?” ‘Beginner rewards have been issued following System activation.
Each Beginner Random Skill Card will unlock one Grey-tier basketball skill.
Possible categories include technical, defensive, offensive, tactical, physical and mental development.’ Fergus barely allowed himself enough time to finish reading.
“Use the first one.
I want to see what I get.” One of the cards lifted from its inventory slot before dissolving into hundreds of tiny particles.
The entire System screen faded to black, causing Fergus to briefly worry that he had done something wrong, but an image soon emerged from the darkness.
A basketball court appeared before him.
Standing beneath the basket was a featureless silhouette holding a ball.
The player stepped towards one side of the rim and finished a layup before collecting the ball as it dropped through the net.
Without pausing, the silhouette moved across the paint and finished on the opposite side before repeating the sequence.
Fergus recognised the exercise almost immediately.
“That’s the Mikan Drill.
I’ve done that before.” He had seen videos explaining it and attempted the drill himself on the public court.
His version was considerably less impressive than the demonstration in front of him, particularly whenever a missed layup forced him to chase the basketball several metres away.
The demonstration gradually faded and was replaced by a new card.
‘Congratulations!
You have unlocked Mikan Maestro.’ Fergus eagerly opened the description.
‘Mikan Maestro’ ‘Tier: Grey – Basic Understanding’ ‘The Mikan Drill has remained one of basketball’s most enduring finishing exercises for a reason.
Mikan Maestro develops the host’s understanding of close-range finishing, footwork, touch and controlled use of either hand around the basket.’ Fergus grinned as he read through the description.
It wasn’t the spectacular skill he might have dreamed about receiving.
There would be no Stephen Curry three-pointers or Vince Carter dunks because of it, but even Fergus understood how useful the skill could become.
He missed easy layups far too often.
Being able to score beneath the basket was about as fundamental as basketball became.
There was little point dreaming about complicated dribble moves or deep three-pointers if he couldn’t reliably finish a simple layup after getting past his defender.
“So because I’ve unlocked it, am I suddenly better at layups?” ‘No.
The host currently possesses Basic Understanding of Mikan Maestro.
Knowledge and comprehension do not guarantee physical execution.
Repetition and purposeful training are required to convert understanding into consistent performance.’ Fergus wasn’t disappointed by the answer as much as he might have expected.
Instead, he found himself thinking about A Star’s Work Ethic and how the two skills might interact.
“So Mikan Maestro teaches me what I’m supposed to do, and A Star’s Work Ethic helps me understand and learn what it’s teaching me faster?” ‘Correct.
Compatible skills may complement one another during development.
A Star’s Work Ethic will assist the host in comprehending the principles and recognising errors encountered while training Mikan Maestro.’ That made Fergus considerably more excited.
The System wasn’t simply controlling his body and making shots go through the basket.
It was giving him knowledge he hadn’t previously possessed and improving his ability to understand that knowledge, but Fergus himself still needed to put in the hours required to make use of it.
Training had always been something he was willing to do.
Now his training finally had direction.
“All right, that’s actually brilliant.
Show me the other card.” The remaining mystery card rose from its inventory slot and dissolved just as the first had.
Once again, the screen darkened before revealing a basketball court, although this time two silhouettes appeared.
One possessed the ball near the perimeter while the other crouched several feet in front of him.
The offensive player began dribbling before suddenly driving towards his right, but the defender slid across and remained firmly between him and the basket.
When the ball handler changed direction, the defender adjusted without crossing his feet or allowing his body to rise out of position.
There was nothing spectacular about the sequence.
The defender didn’t steal the ball, block a shot or send the offensive player crashing to the ground.
He simply remained in front of his opponent, denying every attempt to create an easy path towards the basket.
Fergus found himself watching the defender’s feet more carefully than he expected.
When the demonstration ended, another card appeared.
‘Congratulations!
You have unlocked Perimeter Pest.’ Fergus selected it immediately.
‘Perimeter Pest’ ‘Tier: Grey – Basic Understanding’ ‘Scoring attracts attention.
Preventing it wins games.
Perimeter Pest develops the host’s understanding of defensive stance, lateral positioning, spacing and containment against opposing ball handlers.
Remember, defence wins championships.’ Fergus’s eyebrows rose as he finished reading.
“That’s probably really useful for me because I barely practise defence.
I can’t exactly guard myself when I’m outside.” Defence had always been one of the hardest areas for him to work on.
He could dribble alone, shoot alone and practise layups whenever he had access to a basket.
He could even work on passing by finding a suitable wall.
Proper defence was different because there was normally supposed to be another person trying to get past him.
Angus wasn’t much help.
His younger brother’s idea of attacking a defender generally involved grabbing the basketball with both hands and running towards the basket until Fergus pointed out that he wasn’t allowed to do that.
As a result, almost all of Fergus’s individual practice had focused on offence.
“If I understand this now, does that mean I’ll actually be decent at defence when I’m guarding someone?” ‘Perimeter Pest is currently Grey-tier.
The host possesses Basic Understanding of perimeter defence, but physical capabilities and practical experience remain undeveloped.
Improved performance requires the host to apply this understanding through training and competition.’ Fergus nodded as he read the explanation, beginning to recognise the pattern behind how the System operated.
“So basically, you’re going to teach me what I’m doing wrong, but you’re not going to magically move my feet for me.” ‘Correct.’ “And A Star’s Work Ethic will help me learn the defensive stuff quicker when I actually practise it?” ‘Correct.
The effectiveness of learning remains dependent upon training quality, effort, available physical capability and practical application.’ Fergus smiled.
He could work with that.
He reopened the Player Skills menu and found that it no longer looked quite so empty.
Three cards now occupied the screen, with the green card sitting above the two grey ones.
‘A Star’s Work Ethic – Green’ ‘Mikan Maestro – Grey’ ‘Perimeter Pest – Grey’ Fergus spent a long time staring at those three cards.
Less than an hour earlier, he had been worried that his family might not even be able to afford for him to play school basketball.
He had no coach, no trainer and very little idea whether the exercises he attempted every evening were actually helping him improve.
He had always been willing to work, but willingness could only take him so far when he didn’t properly understand what he should be working on.
The Basketball Development System changed that.
It wasn’t going to make every shot for him, nor was it going to transform his thin body into that of a professional athlete overnight.
It couldn’t replace the hours he needed to spend practising or the experience he would eventually have to gain by playing against other people.
What it could do was teach him.
For Fergus, that might have been even more valuable.
His attention returned to A Star’s Work Ethic.
Of the three skills, it was the only one already at Green tier, and it was also the only one the System hadn’t given him.
That ability had come from all the afternoons he had spent chasing missed shots, all the evenings he had repeated movements that refused to work and every occasion when he had gone back outside despite being frustrated with how slowly he seemed to improve.
Fergus smiled at the card before closing its description.
“If you’re going to teach me how to get better, then I’ll do the work.
That’s the easy part.” A final notification appeared beneath his skills.
‘System introduction complete.
Training functions and missions are now available.’ Fergus immediately leaned towards the screen again.
“You have missions as well?
What sort of missions do I…” “Fergus!” William’s voice suddenly called from inside the house.
“Are you planning on staying out there for the rest of the night?” Fergus spun towards the front door, briefly forgetting that his father couldn’t see the System floating in front of him.
“No, I’m coming in soon!
I just want another five minutes to finish something.” “You said you’d come inside before it got late, and I’m holding you to that agreement already.” “I know, Dad!
Five minutes, I promise!” Fergus waited until he was certain his father wasn’t coming outside before turning back towards the screen.
A rather important question suddenly occurred to him.
“Can anyone else see you?
Because I’m going to have a really difficult time explaining this if my dad comes outside.” ‘System interfaces and notifications are visible only to the host unless otherwise specified.’ Fergus relaxed immediately.
“Good.
I don’t think he’d believe me anyway.” He looked once more at the three skills before mentally asking the menu to close.
The white screen obediently disappeared, leaving Fergus standing alone in the driveway as though nothing unusual had happened.
His battered basketball still rested several metres away where it had rolled after the headache.
Fergus walked over and picked it up, turning the worn ball between his hands while everything that had happened began to settle properly in his mind.
School would begin again in August, with basketball tryouts following not long afterwards.
A few weeks wasn’t much time.
Fergus wasn’t going to become taller, stronger, or suddenly transform into the best player at school before then, and the System had already made it perfectly clear that unlocking a skill didn’t mean he had mastered it.
He didn’t need to become the best player in a few weeks, though.
He only needed to become better than the boy who had failed last year’s tryouts.
Mikan Maestro could teach him how to become more reliable around the basket.
Perimeter Pest could begin filling the enormous hole in his understanding of defence.
Most importantly, A Star’s Work Ethic meant that every hour Fergus spent seriously practising those skills could teach him more than it had before.
For years, he had possessed the willingness to work without truly knowing the best way to improve.
Now he had something capable of pointing him in the right direction.
Fergus bounced the basketball against the driveway and caught it again before glancing down the street in the direction of the public court.
It was too late to head there tonight, especially after promising his father he would come inside, but tomorrow was another matter.
If he got up early enough, he could walk there and start practising the Mikan Drill properly.
After that, he needed to work out how he was supposed to train Perimeter Pest without another player, and he still hadn’t even looked at whatever the System meant by missions.
There was suddenly far more Fergus wanted to do than there were hours left in the evening.
He tucked the battered basketball beneath his arm and headed towards the house, already planning tomorrow’s training session in his head.
For the first time since he had begun dreaming about professional basketball, Fergus no longer felt as though he was blindly throwing himself towards an impossible destination.
The road from an Edinburgh driveway to the NBA remained unimaginably long, and Fergus was nowhere near good enough to walk it yet.
At least now, he had been given somewhere to start.