Chapter 9: Invisible

The crowd was buzzing with excitement, and Thomas was bursting with energy, ready to dominate. But soon, what unfolded was something no one expected, especially Andrew, who stood on the sidelines with a knowing smirk.

Thomas, trying to muscle his way past Hayes, was like a car stuck in neutral. No matter how hard he pushed, Hayes didn't budge. Frustrated, Thomas tried turning to the right, only for Hayes to shadow his every move, making it look more like they were performing a clumsy waltz than playing basketball. 

After several failed attempts to get past, Thomas resorted to brute force, using his height advantage to try a desperate shot. It was a poor decision. The ball clanked off the rim, and Millsap swooped in, snatching the rebound with his long arms.

The Bulls' offense fizzled out like a bad joke.

Now, the Rockets wasted no time. Millsap and Novak orchestrated a smooth pick-and-roll. Barria, with laser-like timing, delivered a perfect pass, and Novak drained a three-pointer from deep.

5-0! The Rockets were on fire, and the crowd could feel it.

The audience sat there, stunned.

"Wait, what happened to Thomas being the next O'Neal? And weren't the Rockets supposed to be the underdogs?"

The script had been flipped.

Thomas brought the ball up again, but Millsap shut him down instantly. Frustrated, Thomas kicked it out to Woods. Woods charged into the paint, but Hayes was already there, setting his feet like a brick wall. Woods barreled into him, and the referee's whistle screamed for an offensive foul.

The crowd erupted. The Bulls looked completely disoriented.

Andrew, watching from the bench, nodded with quiet satisfaction. Hayes was already showing signs of being the future backbone of the Rockets' defense.

The Rockets didn't let up. Novak set a screen for Millsap, who cut to the basket like a freight train. Woods tried to contest, but Millsap powered through with a thunderous two-handed dunk that sent Woods tumbling to the floor. He became nothing more than a backdrop to Millsap's highlight reel.

"Spectacular dunk!" White, the commentator, couldn't contain his excitement as Millsap's raw athleticism brought the crowd to its feet.

The student fans, who had come expecting a blowout against the Rockets, were now ecstatic. They had come for the drama, and the Rockets were delivering in spades.

Woods, clearly frustrated, tried to shove Millsap as he got up. But the power difference was laughable—Millsap didn't even flinch. The referee, sharp-eyed, was quick to call a technical foul on Woods, who went into a tirade before being yanked by the Bulls coach. 

The boos from the crowd were deafening. Woods, all bark and no bite, looked more like a clown than the fearsome player he was hyped to be before the game.

Meanwhile, the Bulls' offense had stalled completely. Thomas couldn't get into the paint, and the entire team seemed constipated in their movements.

In stark contrast, the Rockets were playing with rhythm and swagger. Their pick-and-roll was precise, and Millsap was in perfect sync with the flow of the game. His uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time was paying off—he had already racked up 12 points. 

By halftime, the Rockets were annihilating the Bulls, leading by a staggering 52-24.

Andrew, still calm and composed, remained seated on the bench. His cold was visibly affecting him, but he didn't need to say much—the Rockets were executing his game plan to perfection. He decided it was time to check in with Thibodeau and the team doctor.

As the players headed to the locker room, Andrew rose from his seat, massaging his temples.

"Hold on, am I seeing this right? Is this the first time Coach Andrew's gotten up from the bench?" White, the commentator, asked, his voice tinged with disbelief.

"Yeah, and he didn't even touch the tactical board the entire first half!" his co-commentator chimed in.

The crowd, sensing what was happening, broke into cheers. This coach hadn't stood up, hadn't called out plays—and yet, his team was obliterating the Bulls by 24 points! If this was Andrew's bench game, what would happen if he actually got involved? 

The excitement was palpable. Andrew, despite the attention, looked as cool as ever, as if everything was unfolding exactly as he had foreseen.

Once back in the locker room, the team doctor gave him some meds, and Andrew felt a little better. The second half resumed, but the Bulls' offense remained as ineffective as ever. 

The Rockets cruised to an easy 94-68 victory in their Summer League opener. Millsap was the star of the night, putting up 28 points and 8 rebounds. His defensive opponent, Thomas, was an absolute disaster, shooting just 2 of 13 for a measly 4 points. If anyone had doubts about Millsap's place in the draft, those were laid to rest.

Novak also lit up the court, going 6 of 8 from beyond the arc and contributing 18 points of his own.

The media, which had been waiting to pounce on Andrew with headlines of failure and speculation about his connection to Yao Ming, were left scrambling. Their pre-written narratives were useless in the face of the Rockets' stunning performance. 

But the press never missed a chance to stir the pot.

"Rockets win, but credit belongs to Thibodeau, not Andrew," one headline read.

"The rise of Thibodeau proves he's the real coach behind the Rockets' success," another claimed.

Fans started to wonder: Was Andrew just a figurehead? During the entire game, he hadn't left his seat, hadn't called plays—everything seemed to be managed by Thibodeau from the sidelines.

It wasn't long before Andrew found himself back at the center of a media storm. But this time, his calm, detached presence only added fuel to the fire.