NBA: Basketball Legend.

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: Summer League FMVP! Chen Yan’s Haters

Chapter 58: Summer League FMVP! Chen Yan’s Haters

Tonight in Las Vegas, the Chinese men’s basketball team had reason to celebrate.

Thanks to a clutch buzzer-beater from Yi Jianlian, they edged out the Cavaliers for their first win in the Summer League. It was a scrappy battle from the tip-off to the final possession. Yi struggled early—he went 0-for-6 through three quarters and didn’t score until two minutes into the fourth. But once he got going, he caught fire.

Yi dropped 17 of the team’s final 20 points in the fourth, going full takeover mode. On the final possession, he shook off two defenders with a pair of fakes, spun out of pressure, and drilled the game-winner at the buzzer. It was straight out of a movie—like a lone hero dragging his squad across the finish line.

After the game, Chen Yan shot Yi a congratulatory text.

Even in the Summer League, moments like that build confidence.

With that buzzer-beater, the Chinese national team wrapped up their Summer League run. As for Chen Yan, D’Antoni had already made up his mind—there was no reason for him to keep playing. The competition was barely more intense than a practice run for him, and the risk of injury wasn’t worth it.

But Chen wasn’t having it.

He smiled and told D’Antoni, ”I’ve come this far—I might as well win a chip for fun.”

Unless something unexpected happened, this would be his final Summer League.

In the next two elimination games, the Suns beat the Spurs and Jazz. Chen put up 21 and 23 points respectively, but what really stood out was the way he played.

He wasn’t just scoring. He was orchestrating.

Chen used his gravity to draw double-teams and dished out dimes left and right, letting his teammates shine. Despite playing limited minutes, he still recorded 13 and 15 assists in those games. Honestly, if his teammates had better hands, he might’ve hit that rare 20-point, 20-assist mark.

After those two games, his temporary teammates were head over heels for him.

The moment he walked into the locker room, they mobbed him with cheers and backslaps.

Even the Suns’ assistant coach made sure to report that to D’Antoni.

The Mustache Man grinned. Chen wasn’t just a hooper—he had charisma, leadership, and emotional intelligence.

”Talent and skill are great,” D’Antoni said. ”But if you can’t vibe with your team, you’ll be a cancer in the locker room. Chen gets it. He’s different.”

Two days later, the final game of the Summer League tipped off.

The Suns faced off against the New York Knicks, led by none other than Nate Robinson.

Now, Nate might be a role player in the NBA, but in the Summer League? Dude’s a legend.

This was his fourth straight year hooping in Vegas, and the organizers had even announced they’d retire his jersey after this run. He was that dominant.

They called him the God of the Summer League.

From the jump, Nate came out gunning. High energy, barking on defense, diving into passing lanes—he was trying to make a statement.

”He’s trying to take me to the spicy hot pot tonight,” Chen joked on the bench, cracking up his teammates.

But Chen wasn’t worried. He knew Nate had bounce—this was the guy who once blocked Yao Ming, after all.

Before the game, Nate told his teammates, ”I swatted the No.1 pick from China before. Now I’m gonna swat the next one.”

Big talk.

Too bad he never got the chance.

Chen Yan exploded down the lane, rose up with a full head of steam—and posterized Nate Robinson. Flat-out dunked on him. Nate flew backward, crashed out of bounds, and sat there for a moment, stunned.

”BOOM!”

The gym erupted.

”Oh my God!”

”Chen! That’s filthy!”

”Put him in the dunk contest, man!”

Chen landed, raised both arms, and soaked in the love from the crowd.

He looked down at Nate and smirked.

You’re the boss of the Summer League? Nah, not tonight.

That moment defined the whole game.

Nate still had juice on offense, but defensively? He was getting cooked. He might’ve bullied fringe players before, but in front of Chen? He looked small. Helpless. Out of his depth.

By the end of the third quarter, Nate waved to his coach—he wanted out. If he stayed on the floor any longer, the organizers might’ve unretired his jersey.

BEEP—BEEP—BEEEEEP!

The final buzzer sounded.

Phoenix Suns 96, New York Knicks 72.

The Suns were your 2007 Las Vegas Summer League champions.

Chen Yan had officially won his first championship since leaving the NCAA.

For most of his teammates, it was their first title—ever.

They hugged, high-fived, and celebrated like it was the Finals.

Right then, Chen heard a familiar voice in his head.

”Congratulations to the host for winning the Summer League Championship. Reward: 2 Honor Points.”

”Congratulations to the host for winning the Summer League FMVP. Reward: 1 Honor Point.”

Chen raised an eyebrow.

”One point for FMVP?” he muttered with a chuckle. ”Cheap-ass system.”

Across the entire Summer League, he’d earned 8 honor points in total.

Not bad. But not worth coming back for.

---

The Chinese media exploded after the win.

”Chen Yan: The Jordan of the Summer League?”

”Dunk King Nate Robinson gets posterized!”

”Is Chen Yan from another planet?”

”The Summer League was all about

him—’Chen! Chen! Chen!’ filled the arena!”

”With Chen on the floor, even this summer squad could win the NBA championship!”

The praise was loud. But it wasn’t all love.

In this era, clickbait titles ruled the internet, and every site wanted traffic.

The louder the headline, the more clicks it got. But too much flattery? That turns fans off.

Soon enough, the backlash came rolling in.

You didn’t even need to dig deep—the comment sections were full of it. Chen already had a solid base of haters online.

A few were even keeping a countdown until his NBA debut.

They knew most rookies stumble in their first real game. Yao Ming and Kobe Bryant had both dropped donuts in their debuts.

Chen’s haters were just waiting with their keyboards ready, hoping he’d fall flat.

---

On his last night in Vegas, Chen hit up a casino—not with Durant, who’d flown back to Boston, but with some of his summer league teammates.

It was chill. Chen had good luck at the tables and walked away with a $3,000 profit.

With his winnings, he treated the whole squad to a massive dinner.

It was his way of saying goodbye.

A lot of these guys wouldn’t make it to the NBA. Their paths would probably never cross again on the court. But Chen didn’t care about status.

Some of these dudes were hilarious and genuine as hell.

He didn’t care who they were or what they could offer him. If they were cool? That was all that mattered.

Before he left, nearly everyone in the group asked for a photo or an autograph.

They knew.

Someday, they’d be able to say, ”Yeah, I hooped with Chen Yan back in the day.”

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