NBA: Northeast China's spectacular dunks sweep the entire league.

Chapter 41: Rookie of the Year Confirmed! Two First Team Nominees Make History

The Oakland morning light had just spilled over the glass walls of Oracle Arena when the sound of basketballs bouncing on the floor echoed through the training facility. Lin Hao, his training clothes soaked through, was leading his teammates in practicing a rotation of switching defense. He had just completed a precise steal when he saw Harris, clutching a tablet, rushing in like a madman through the player tunnel. His leather shoes clattered rapidly on the wooden floor, and even his usually impeccably styled elite hair was disheveled.

"Lin! You did it! You did it!" Harris rushed to the center of the court, his voice trembling, and shoved the tablet in front of Lin Hao. On the screen was the NBA's official website's list of nominees for the 2002-03 season awards. "The league just officially announced it! You're leading the Rookie of the Year list unanimously, the only candidate! You've also been shortlisted for both the All-NBA First Team and the All-Defensive First Team!"

One sentence caused an uproar in the entire training hall.

Richardson dropped the basketball with a thud, yelled, and pounced on Lin Hao, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him violently: "Holy crap! Canned Food Bro is awesome! Two All-NBA First Team nominations! Two All-NBA First Team nominations in his rookie season! This is the first time in history!"

"Really? Let me see!" Murphy snatched the tablet, his fingers flying across the screen, his voice trembling as he read aloud, "Rookie of the Year nominee: Lin Hao, 100% vote share, leading unanimously! All-NBA First Team nominees: Kobe, McGrady, Iverson, Lin Hao... All-Defensive First Team nominees: Bowen, Garnett, Duncan, Lin Hao... My God! It really is! It's a double First Team nomination!"

Teammates instantly swarmed around, crowding around the tablet to watch, exclamations of amazement rising and falling. Dampier slapped Lin Hao on the back, almost making him choke: "Wow, kid! You're going to break all the NBA records! Making both the All-NBA Team and the All-Defensive Team in your rookie season, and as a guard no less! Never before has anyone done that!"

Lin Hao wiped the sweat from his brow, took the tablet, glanced at it, and his face didn't show much excitement, only a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth. From being an undrafted player rejected at the end of the second round, to a unanimous Rookie of the Year, and then to being nominated for two All-NBA First Team selections in his rookie season, only he himself knew best the sweat and injuries he had endured along the way.

"Stop making such a fuss." Lin Hao handed the tablet back to Harris, bent down to pick up the basketball from the ground, and casually threw out a three-pointer. "The Rookie of the Year award hasn't been officially presented yet, and being nominated for both All-NBA First Team and All-NBA Second Team is just a nomination. It's too early to celebrate. The playoffs are about to start, and winning the playoffs is the real test of skill."

The moment he finished speaking, his phone started ringing incessantly. It was a long-distance call from Zhao Dabao in China. As soon as he answered, the loud voice on the other end almost shattered the receiver: "Haozi! You're on fire! You're in all ten of the top trending topics in China! #LinHaoUnanimouslyVotesForBestRookie# #LinHaoMakesHistoryWithTwoAll-NBATeams# These two hashtags are exploding! Weibo's servers even crashed for three minutes!"

Zhao Dabao's voice trembled with emotion, a mixture of excitement and pride: "The General Administration of Sport and the Basketball Association just sent official congratulatory messages, saying you are the pride of Chinese basketball! The landmarks in our hometown of Fengtian are all lit up, displaying 'Congratulations to Lin Hao, the young man from Sutun, for making history!' And the kids from the Xinghuo Youth Training Camp just recorded a video to cheer you on, each holding up a small basketball and shouting 'Go, Brother Lin Hao!' I cried when I saw it!"

Lin Hao felt a warmth in his heart, and his smile deepened: "Thank you for your hard work, Da Bao. Please thank the kids for me. Tell them to practice hard, and we'll see each other in the NBA someday."

After hanging up the phone, Harris handed over a stack of printed emails, his face beaming with barely suppressed excitement: "And there's more! Nike just raised their contract offer by 50%, offering you a lifetime contract and promising to create a signature shoe line for you, the first one called 'Peach Generation 1.' Coca-Cola and Gatorade have also extended renewal offers, doubling their endorsement fees. Now you're the most commercially valuable guard in the NBA, bar none."

His teammates immediately erupted again. Richardson whistled and cheered, "Peach Generation 1! That name is amazing! I'll wear it every day from now on! Canned Food Bro, you have to save me ten pairs when your autographed shoes come out!"

"Keep five pairs for me too!"

"I want eight pairs!"

Lin Hao smiled and waved, about to speak, when the training hall's large screen suddenly switched to ESPN's live broadcast, showing Popovich being interviewed before the game. The reporter asked him about Lin Hao's selection to both All-NBA First Teams, and whether he felt it was due to the Chinese market. This legendary coach, known for his strictness, surprisingly smiled, his tone incredibly serious:

"Benefiting from the crowd? If Lin Hao doesn't deserve to be on both the All-NBA First Team and the All-NBA Second Team, then no one in this league does. He averaged 32.5 points, 8.3 assists, and 2.1 steals per game, ranking among the league's best on both ends of the court. He led a depleted Warriors team from the bottom of the Western Conference to the eighth seed, single-handedly leading the team to 45 wins. With performances like that, let alone his rookie season, he deserves to be on both the All-NBA First Team and the All-NBA Second Team in any season. Those who say he got his place on the market simply don't understand basketball. I can't wait to face him in the playoffs."

Popovich's words were like a resounding slap in the face to those media outlets that were still questioning Lin Hao.

Just an hour ago, several niche media outlets published sarcastic articles, claiming that Lin Hao's double All-NBA First Team nominations were a commercial maneuver by the league to appease the Chinese market, and that he "relies entirely on flopping for defense and padding his stats for offense." But as soon as Popovich made these remarks, all the dissenting voices instantly vanished.

Following suit, legends like Kobe Bryant, Allen Iverson, Vince Carter, and Michael Jordan also posted congratulatory messages on social media. Kobe posted a photo of the two exchanging jerseys with the caption, "Well deserved, the future is yours." Iverson tweeted directly, "Lin Hao is the best rookie I've ever seen, bar none." Jordan also made a rare update, simply saying, "Congratulations, keep it up."

American media outlets collectively changed their tune. Bleacher Report, which had previously mocked Lin Hao as a "celebrity vote king," changed its front-page headline to "Historic Rookie! Lin Hao Creates an NBA Miracle." ESPN directly ranked Lin Hao as the number one active shooting guard, with the headline "The League's New King Has Been Crowned." In the TNT studio, Barkley slammed his fist on the table and shouted, "I told you long ago, Lin Hao isn't some celebrity; he's the future face of the league! Kenny, you should keep your bet!"

In the training hall, the teammates were incredibly excited watching the blessings from the veterans on the screen. But Lin Hao had already walked to the tactics board, picked up a marker, and started drawing tactical routes on it.

"Alright, the show's over." Lin Hao tapped the tactics board, his voice steady and powerful, instantly drawing everyone's attention back. "The regular season is over, all the honors are in the past. From now on, we have only one goal—the playoffs."

His pen tip slammed down on the tactical board, drawing the Mavericks' logo: "Our first-round opponent is the San Antonio Spurs. The David Robinson and GDP combination is not to be trifled with. We'll go back and study their characteristics carefully."

Just then, the system's cold yet clear notification sounded in Lin Hao's mind:

[Beep! Host detected as having locked onto Rookie of the Year, nominated for both All-NBA First Team and All-NBA Second Team selections. Regular season achievements completed!]

[Playoffs main quest triggered: [Playoff Legend]!]

[Mission Objective: Lead your team to the Western Conference Finals and defeat at least one dynasty-level team.]

[Mission Rewards: Unlocks the ability to advance physical talent to S-rank, unlocks the playoffs-exclusive passive skill [Dynasty Killer], and significantly increases global reputation!]

[Mission failure penalty: None. Northeastern men only know how to win, not how to lose!]

[Task Time Limit: None.]

Lin Hao's eyes lit up instantly. S-level talent—that's the level of talent only historical superstars like Jordan, Kobe, and James possess. If he completes this task, he can completely leap from All-Star to historical superstar. However, beating the Spurs won't be easy.

Training continued until evening, the setting sun casting long shadows of the players through the floor-to-ceiling windows. His teammates had all left, but Lin Hao remained in the training hall, practicing his three-pointers over and over again.

Zhang Qingying came in carrying a thermos containing rock sugar pear soup that she had made herself. She walked over to Lin Hao, handed him the thermos, and said softly, "Don't overwork yourself. You just received such a great honor; you should rest."

Lin Hao took the thermos, took a sip, and the sweet warmth slid down his throat, relieving most of his fatigue. He put his arm around Zhang Qingying's waist, looked at the sunset outside the window, and whispered, "I can't rest. Rookie of the Year is just the beginning; I want to win the championship. I want the whole world to know that Chinese people can not only play in the NBA, but also win championships."

Zhang Qingying leaned against him, nodded, her eyes full of tenderness: "I believe you. Wherever you go, I'll be with you."

Lin Hao smiled, picked up the ebony suona placed on the sidelines, and put it in his mouth.

The next second, the resounding and stirring melody of "A Man Should Strive for Self-Improvement" echoed in the empty training hall. The powerful melody, carrying his ambition and dreams, struck the walls and then drifted into the Auckland night sky.

After finishing the piece, he put down the suona, picked up his phone, and saw a message from Harris. It was a video of the Spurs' training session with the caption: "Popovich has started studying your tactics. Duncan said he's looking forward to playing against you soon."

Lin Hao looked at the expressionless stone Buddha in the video and a carefree smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

He looked down and touched the photo in his pocket, a group photo of the children from the Xinghuo Youth Training Camp. In the photo, the children were holding basketballs and smiling brightly.

"Chinese basketball will one day..."

He murmured those words softly, his eyes filled with unwavering determination.

Whether it's the Mavericks or the Spurs' Big Three (GDP), he will overturn every dynasty that stands in his way.

His playoff legend has only just begun.