Wallace acted quickly. After his conversation with Han Sen, he arranged a tryout on the same day and finalized a one-year veteran's minimum contract with Delonte West.
Though labeled a one-year deal, since the season was already in its latter half, the actual salary amounted to only about $400,000—a minimal cost.
Wallace's willingness to sign West largely stemmed from his trust in Han Sen.
Han had a proven knack for managing players with issues, and West had originally come to Memphis alongside Han.
Han met with West on the day he signed the contract.
If West had looked a bit weary when he first arrived in Memphis months ago, now his appearance was noticeably more haggard.
Han could understand why it only took a few years after leaving the NBA for West to end up homeless.
For someone grappling with mental health challenges, losing a sense of purpose was like a boat adrift in an endless sea—there was no direction, no motivation to keep going.
In this sense, the Grizzlies signing West was akin to throwing him a lifeline.
When West saw Han, a faint light sparked in his otherwise lifeless eyes.
To West, Han was like one of the few visible islands in that vast, empty ocean.
Han stepped forward and gave him a firm hug.
"Good to have you back," Han said, patting West on the back.
West nodded vigorously, his body trembling as he fought back tears.
West's arrival turned out to be a solid addition to the Grizzlies.
While Shaun Livingston had been performing well, his injury history still made the coaching staff cautious about overusing him during the regular season.
Moreover, Livingston lacked an outside shot, which made him vulnerable in certain matchups. West, on the other hand, could step in and address such shortcomings.
Most importantly, West didn't exhibit any disruptive behavior in the locker room after joining the Grizzlies.
Wallace's gamble had paid off—Han's presence effectively neutralized any potential negatives.
By late March, the Grizzlies maintained a firm grip on the top spot in the Western Conference, while the rest of the West descended into a chaotic battle for playoff positioning.
The conference had essentially split into two tiers. The Grizzlies, Lakers, Spurs, and Nuggets had solidified their places in the upper bracket.
Meanwhile, six teams—Mavericks, Warriors, Clippers, Thunder, Rockets, and Jazz—were locked in a fierce six-team battle for the remaining four playoff spots.
The Thunder, in particular, drew widespread attention.
Although LeBron James' arrival had brought significant off-court profits for the Thunder, the team still struggled to resolve compatibility issues between him and Russell Westbrook.
Westbrook had initially made concessions, but Khalil's infamous article about LeBron's potential to opt out of his contract in 2014 reignited tensions.
The Thunder's locker room was a mess, and their playoff hopes were hanging by a thread.
If nothing changed, it was becoming increasingly likely that LeBron's first season in the West would end with him missing the playoffs.
For a superstar in his prime, missing the postseason would be a massive blow to his reputation.
Amid this turmoil, the Thunder faced the Grizzlies for the third and final time in the regular season.
The game was held in Memphis, and despite being late in the season, the FedEx Forum was packed.
Memphis' market still needed time to grow, but it was already faring much better than markets like San Antonio.
During the pregame warmups, cameras captured LeBron looking unusually tense.
Han Sen wasn't surprised by the Thunder's struggles.
Historically, the Western Conference was so competitive that even LeBron's 'Thanos' form one year could be reduced to 'CBA teammate mode' the next.
This season, the Thunder's internal issues and the brutal Western Conference race made their downfall inevitable.
The game started, and to everyone's surprise, the Thunder came out strong.
By the end of the first quarter, the score was tied. In the second quarter, LeBron's minutes staggered with Westbrook's led to a double-digit Thunder lead.
Seeing this, Coach Joerger subbed in Han Sen and Marc Gasol earlier than planned.
Their presence immediately improved the Grizzlies' performance on both ends of the court. Han's consecutive baskets narrowed the gap.
LeBron responded by increasing his drives to the basket, leading to more frequent whistles.
The league had restored LeBron's preferential officiating after briefly dialing it back during the 'Decision' fallout.
Even so, the Grizzlies adapted well, gradually closing the deficit.
The crowd's boos grew louder, sensing their team was on the verge of taking the lead.
Then came the pivotal moment.
LeBron drove to the rim and initiated contact with Marc Gasol, hoping for a foul call. Gasol sidestepped and attempted a block but inadvertently hit LeBron's wrist. The shot missed, but the referees didn't whistle for a foul.
The crowd's deafening boos seemed to weigh on the officials, and this time, they refrained from giving LeBron the benefit of the doubt.
Outraged, LeBron stormed over to the referees, gesturing furiously and pleading his case. His emotions seemed to be boiling over.
The lead referee gathered his two assistants to discuss the play. Meanwhile, the arena's jumbotron replayed the sequence, revealing Gasol's contact. It was indeed a missed call.
After a brief discussion, the referees decided to stick with the no-call.
What happened next shocked everyone.
LeBron, unable to accept the decision, clasped his hands over his head and dramatically fell to his knees.
As if that weren't enough, he lowered his head, pressed his clenched fists against the court, and knelt there as though begging for mercy.
The entire arena was stunned.
The referee looked baffled, as if to say, 'It's just a missed foul—was this really necessary?'
LeBron's teammates were equally bewildered. Westbrook's wide-eyed expression made it clear his worldview had just been shattered.
Even Serge Ibaka, standing closest to LeBron, hesitated, unsure whether to help him up.
The crowd erupted into jeers.
"You've gotten so many calls in your career, and you're losing it over one missed foul? Really?"
But more than the missed call, it was LeBron's theatrics that had everyone talking.
NBA players had lost their cool over bad officiating plenty of times, but this level of drama was unprecedented.
For a superstar and the face of Nike, to kneel on the court like this—how could he sink so low?
Han Sen was initially stunned but quickly came to his senses.
LeBron's dramatic kneeling wasn't just about the missed call—it symbolized the Thunder's entire season spiraling out of control.
People had been wondering if there was any way to salvage Oklahoma City's season, given the internal strife.
One solution was resolving the team's chemistry issues. The other? Getting more favorable whistles.
A few games officiated like last year's infamous Finals Game 3 could easily gift the Thunder a playoff spot. As long as they made it to the postseason, LeBron's reputation would be intact. At worst, they could scapegoat someone else during the offseason.
Once Han grasped the implications, he shook his head in disbelief.
Forget about Russell Westbrook's worldview being shattered—Han himself was reconsidering everything. He wasn't even going to argue anymore about Rudy Gay being better than LeBron; heck, even old Vince Carter seemed more dignified in comparison.
Veterans at least have some pride. Watching LeBron pull off a stunt like this? Anyone with an ounce of self-respect would find it hard to stomach.
LeBron's kneeling didn't change the outcome of the game. The Grizzlies still defeated the Thunder 113-101.
But the result no longer mattered. The kneel became the highlight of the night.
For LeBron's most ardent supporters, the missed call became their ultimate defense. LeBron's kneeling was reframed as a heroic protest against unfair officiating.
"It was that call that shifted the momentum. The Grizzlies had been trailing until then, but they capitalized afterward and took over the game," they claimed.
This was the same fanbase that had once rewritten the Grizzlies' championship run as a result of 'dirty play,' so they clearly knew how to spin narratives to suit their agenda.
Nike also got involved.
Even though LeBron's actions had left them bewildered, they were in the same boat. There was no way they'd publicly oppose their star athlete. After all, why would a company willingly punch itself in the face?
No matter how baffling LeBron's behavior, as long as it could be spun positively, Nike would be there to help.
Under this coordinated effort, what seemed absurd soon became inevitable.
Before the kneeling incident, the Thunder already had the largest free throw disparity in the league, averaging 2.96 more attempts per game than their opponents. The Lakers were second at 2.21.
This stat was somewhat understandable since both Westbrook and LeBron were aggressive drivers.
But in the month following LeBron's kneeling, that disparity skyrocketed to 10.96 attempts per game.
For comparison:
The Rockets were second with 3.34. The Lakers were third with 3.17.
Initially, no one noticed this drastic change. With the Thunder slipping out of title contention, media focus on them had waned.
It wasn't until Brian Windhorst published an article on ESPN titled "He's Back"—highlighting LeBron's numbers and how he'd supposedly led the Thunder back into playoff contention—that people started paying attention.
Only then did someone dig up the free throw data and share it publicly, sparking massive controversy online.
LeBron's fans scrambled to explain it away.
"The Thunder have focused on attacking the basket more in the latter half of the season."
"They've tightened up their defense, forcing opponents into mid-range and long-range shots."
These classics resurfaced everywhere.
But most fans weren't buying it. After verifying the stats, they flooded social media with mockery.
"The Thunder's Stalingrad Offensive," "Daddy Loves Me Again," and "Connections Matter in This Game," were among the countless sarcastic jabs.
The most iconic, however, was The Kneel Heard Around the League.
Chosen one? More like pampered child of the gods. That kneel wasn't just historic—it was transcendent.
If nothing else, LeBron had succeeded in making the Thunder one of the most hated teams in the league.
By early April, the regular season was nearing its conclusion.
Playoff positioning in the Western Conference was at its fiercest. A single win or loss could determine a team's entire season.
The Grizzlies, however, were the calmest team in the West. Having long secured the top seed, their remaining games carried little significance.
They couldn't catch the Heat for the league's best record, so these final matches were meaningless for them.
With three games left in the season, Coach Joerger began resting his starters. It was a common strategy to ensure the team was fresh for the playoffs while giving bench players opportunities to shine.
For instance, in their final game against the Mavericks, David West started and scored 20 points—a big confidence boost for him.
All eyes, however, were on the Thunder and Rockets' do-or-die game. The winner would clinch the final playoff spot in the West.
Surprisingly, this game generated more buzz than the Grizzlies' season opener against the Thunder.
LeBron's commercial draw was on full display.
Fan support for the two teams was split evenly, but the reasons behind it were fascinating.
It wasn't because LeBron had suddenly gained a massive influx of new fans.
Among Thunder supporters, a significant portion just wanted to see the drama continue.
Most fans were rooting for the Thunder to lose, hoping they'd miss the playoffs despite all the officiating help.
Others, however, wanted the Thunder to win, just to set up a potential Grizzlies-Thunder playoff series.
In the end, fan opinions didn't affect the outcome.
The Rockets and Thunder were destined for heartbreak regardless.
Ultimately, the Thunder won the game with a staggering 36-19 free throw advantage, clinching the eighth seed in the West.
-End of Chapter-
Translator's note: With this chapter, I've surpassed my previous work in terms of total words posted, even though that one had over 350 chapters.
No wonder it takes me longer to translate- each chapter is at least 2k words long lol.