“Hey, buddy.
I have to admit, you picked the right guy.
He was the biggest contributor to tonight’s win.” Scott turned to Richmond, the intern reporter, and spoke.
This came as a shock to Richmond: Stanford had actually won?
No wonder the Southern California players had refused interviews earlier.
“This guy is definitely worth a feature.
You know, just three days ago, our coach said he wouldn’t put him on next season’s roster, and today—he exploded onto the scene.” Scott, acting like a gossip, kept bragging about his teammate: “He’s the best passer I’ve ever seen, the smartest player I’ve ever seen, and he got into Harvard before he turned seventeen.
You’ve got to write a great article about him.” “Oh, and he’s also a co-founder of Facebook.
Do you think there’s a better NCAA player in the world than him?” Scott finished speaking.
Richmond was instantly stunned: this was practically the blueprint for a legendary story!
A player cast aside by his coach becomes the game’s savior; he’s an academic high-achiever and a co-founder of the most famous social networking site among college students today.
My God!
This is the kind of superstar who will set public opinion on fire the moment the news breaks.
I’ve actually stumbled upon a player like this.
Did God hear my earnest prayers last night?
Will this interview land me a permanent job, launch me to the peak of my life, and turn me into a legendary sports reporter?
Hey!
Hey!
Hey!
Bruce Li roused the reporter, who looked up with a goofy grin: “How about we do the interview right here?” “No, no, no.
I’ll treat you to coffee—let’s go to a restaurant outside for the interview,” Richmond said generously, even though he had just graduated and didn’t have much money.
But with such a controversial interviewer standing right in front of him, he didn’t care.
*Gulp!
Gulp!* Bruce’s stomach began to rumble.
So, he returned to his usual fast-food joint and ordered five Big Macs.
Interestingly, he sat in the same spot he had occupied before the game, while Richmond sat in the seat previously held by Kevin George.
The interview felt more like a three-person affair; Scott offered biting commentary, while Thompson provided supplementary details.
Scott mostly confirmed facts and gently corrected a few exaggerated claims.
For instance, when Scott discussed Li Zhen’s speed, he emphasized, “He’s the fastest player I’ve ever seen; I see shades of Iverson in him.” Bruce corrected him, saying, “I’m not as fast as Iverson.
If Iverson’s speed is a 92, mine is around an 80.” As a science student, Bruce was meticulous.
For example, when Thompson insisted, “He easily beat his rivals to clinch that spot yesterday—without breaking a sweat,” He corrected it to: “He did break a sweat, actually.
It wasn’t easy; he probably used about 40% of his strength.” “Pruitt was no match for him at all.
Even though Pruitt knocked him down twice, he was thoroughly outplayed on the field.
Bruce could get past him as easily as crossing a busy street in the morning…” Before Scott could finish speaking, Bruce corrected him: “In terms of individual ability, Pruitt is actually still a bit stronger than me.
His aggression was just misdirected today.
And, regardless, I have to thank him for the physical contact—because I’m the type of player who grows stronger in the face of setbacks.” Finally, the conversation turned to his academic background.
Bruce Li didn’t correct them on this point—because he was far more capable than they claimed.
When it came to knowledge, Scott and Thomson were like country bumpkins fantasizing about an emperor eating two white-flour buns a day.
Bruce Li didn’t bother correcting them.
After all, an ACT score of 36 wasn’t exactly something to brag about.
For a high achiever like him, finding the point he’d missed was harder than spotting the Jade Rabbit on the moon with the naked eye.
Such is the nature of academic geniuses.
Finally, Richmond asked about the social networking site that was currently all the rage on university campuses.
Bruce Li was quite modest about it: “That happened back in 2004, when I had just started at Harvard.” At the invitation of my good friend Dustin, I participated in the development of the website, though my contribution was actually negligible—practically non-existent.
Later, when the website ran into operational difficulties, I invested a portion of my savings.
I hadn’t even read the share certificate carefully; “In any case, I’ve handed over my voting rights to Zuckerberg.” Richmond then went on at length about Facebook’s recent funding, convinced the site would be a massive success because it had captured the hearts of young people—and he was a heavy user himself.
The interview lasted about half an hour.
Before it wrapped up, Bruce took the opportunity to pay the bill while excusing himself to the restroom.
Richmond was deeply grateful.
He thought to himself, “This guy is a really good person.” In reality, Bruce felt quite embarrassed; he had eaten so much that he would have felt awkward letting someone else pick up the tab.
In high spirits, Richmond headed back to his hotel.
Later, he looked up match highlights online.
He was amazed by Bruce’s incredible creativity and lightning speed, and impressed by his toughness against Pruitt.
“Bruce is a rare gem,” Richmond thought confidently.
“I have to make sure he gets all the attention.” He then racked his brain, channeling all his talent into quickly typing out: “Stanford’s Little Lightning Bolt, Bruce Li of the New Era—the NCAA Superman You Don’t Know Yet!” As he typed the final punctuation mark, he felt he was penning the beginning of a legendary tale.
This guy had more charisma than any Hollywood leading man.
He couldn’t resist looking up photos of the Stanford number 10 online—the pictures were incredibly handsome.
He…
…pasted it into Word and quickly emailed it to the editor.
Less than ten minutes later, the editor replied: “Damn, where did you find this story?
Is it real?” “Oh, it’s 100% real.
You can look up today’s game online; the full video is on the official Time Warner TV page.
It’s Stanford’s number 10—he’s absolutely legendary!” About ten minutes later, Editor-in-Chief Grant responded: “Alright, kid.
This article has been selected as the front-page feature for this year’s NCAA special edition.
Let’s just hope our sales don’t tank.
After all, everyone’s eyes are on Aldridge, Tyrus Thomas, and the other top rookies.” …
At that moment, Bruce Li, sitting on the team bus, had no idea he was about to become the cover story for the second-largest sports magazine in the United States.
Even though it was an NCAA special edition, its impact was not to be underestimated.
You see…
many NBA superstars might never even make the cover of *Slam Dunk* magazine.
Before the internet era truly exploded, appearing on the cover of *Sports Illustrated* or *Slam Dunk* was an achievement worthy of being listed among a player’s accolades.