Chapter 56: Teach Well

The second day of the NBA All-Star Game had much more buzz compared to the first. The anticipation was palpable as events like the Shooting Stars and Skills Challenge filled the day's schedule.

Last year, Nowitzki had taken home the three-point title, and Nate Robinson, at just 1.75 meters, was crowned dunk king.

Andrew, sitting comfortably in the second row, found himself flanked by Swift. The energy around them was electrifying. Swift's presence hadn't gone unnoticed, and a swarm of fans quickly gathered, clamoring for autographs and selfies. Amidst the chaos, Andrew chuckled, realizing he'd become little more than a background figure in Swift's spotlight.

Once the game kicked off, though, Swift's full attention shifted to the court. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity as she peppered Andrew with questions, her youthful excitement reminding him of a child seeing something new for the first time.

Andrew couldn't help but smile. Seeing Swift so engrossed in the game made him feel that bringing her along had been a great idea.

From the front row, Maddie and Novak occasionally turned around, their expressions betraying surprise as they watched the interaction between Andrew and Swift. It was as if they had stumbled upon an unexpected scene, witnessing a new dynamic unfold.

As the earlier events concluded and the crowd's cheers echoed throughout the stadium, the much-anticipated three-point contest began.

This year, five of the league's top shooters were invited to showcase their skills:

Nowitzki, the reigning three-point champ.

Jason Terry, the Mavericks' sharpshooter, boasting a staggering 43% shooting accuracy this season.

Arenas, the fearless "Agent 0," averaging 8.1 three-pointers per game and unapologetically dominating the league.

Kapono, the dark horse, surprising many this season with his unbelievable 56.8% three-point shooting accuracy.

And, of course, Novak, a rookie sensation from the Rockets, whose 50.4% shooting accuracy had already turned heads.

The contest followed a familiar format: two rounds – preliminaries and finals. The top three in the preliminaries would advance, and the highest scorer in the finals would claim the coveted title.

The first to step up was Arenas, and his entrance was met with wild cheers from the audience. Known for his larger-than-life persona and explosive performances, Arenas did not disappoint. With swift, calculated shots, he finished with a remarkable 23 points, earning roars of approval from the crowd. His iconic celebration followed, arms raised in victory as if already claiming the title.

Andrew, watching from the sidelines, couldn't help but feel a surge of nostalgia. Arenas' classic turnaround shot without even looking at the basket was the stuff of NBA legend.

Next up was Jason Terry, but the weight of Arenas' stellar performance seemed to throw him off his game. He fumbled through the round, managing only 10 points. His sheepish grin and shrug toward the crowd said it all, and even the audience chuckled, wondering what had just happened.

When it was Kapono's turn, the atmosphere shifted. The crowd's cheers swelled, expecting him to redeem the round. Yet, the pressure seemed to weigh him down too. After a shaky start, he pulled it together in the latter half, finishing with a respectable 19 points.

Novak's turn had arrived. He took a deep breath, his eyes briefly meeting Andrew's, seeking a final moment of reassurance. Andrew gave him a nod and an encouraging smile, silently telling him he had this.

Novak's history had been one of humble beginnings, but under Andrew's guidance, he had grown into a formidable player. More than just a shooter, Novak now had the confidence and precision to rival the best.

The whistle blew, and Novak shot like a man possessed. His movements were fluid, his rhythm unshakable. Each shot seemed effortless. The crowd began to murmur, sensing something special was unfolding before their eyes.

Swift, leaning into Andrew, whispered, "He's got a nice shot."

Andrew smirked. "Of course he does. I taught him well."

Swift giggled, resting her head on his shoulder as the contest continued.

With each passing rack, Novak's score climbed higher. He missed a few here and there, but his composure never wavered. By the time he reached the final rack, the crowd was on the edge of their seats. His last shot? A perfect swish. Novak finished with a staggering 24 points, surpassing Arenas and setting a new high for the preliminaries.

The fans erupted in cheers, their excitement palpable. Swift clapped enthusiastically, her eyes wide with admiration as she glanced at Andrew. "That was amazing!"

Andrew nodded, proud of Novak's performance. It wasn't just the score—it was the poise, the confidence, the raw talent on display.

But the contest wasn't over yet. The finals loomed, and Novak had set the bar high. Could the others catch up? Only time would tell.

In that moment, amidst the cheers and flashing lights, Andrew realized something. It wasn't just about winning. This was about growth—Novak's, his own, and even Swift's, who was learning to navigate her new fame with the same grace Novak displayed on the court.

As the three-point contest continued, Andrew leaned back in his seat, a satisfied grin on his face. He had taught Novak well, indeed.