After the training session, Chris Duhon approached Lian Dao with a proposition regarding the No. 1 jersey. Chris wanted Lian Dao to give up the number, but proposed that they settle it with a 1V1 match. If Lian Dao won, he could keep the number; if Chris won, Lian Dao would have to give it up.
Chris had heard about how Lian Dao had shaved Al Harrington's head during their trial, which piqued his curiosity about Lian Dao's true abilities. He wanted to see if the rookie was really as formidable as the media claimed.
Lian Dao agreed to the challenge and, in a gesture of confidence, let Chris have the first possession. Though Chris felt that Lian Dao's attitude was a bit arrogant, he took the ball and attacked without hesitation, intending to show the rookie what the NBA was all about.
Chris knew Lian Dao's strength in physical confrontations, so he opted to use a quick and deceptive drive to avoid contact. However, despite his best efforts, he found that no matter how he disguised his moves, he couldn't shake off Lian Dao's defense. Frustrated, Chris stepped back and attempted a jump shot, only to have Lian Dao catch up and block it with ease.
The players watching on the sidelines were stunned, with David Lee even praising the block. Wilson Chandler, who had a clear view of the play, was especially impressed by Lian Dao's wingspan. Lian Dao had been at least a meter away from Chris when he took the shot, yet he still managed to block the ball with his long reach. The sight left the onlookers shaking their heads in disbelief.
When it was Lian Dao's turn to attack, he chose to mirror Chris's earlier move—a disguised drive followed by an acceleration. However, Lian Dao's version was faster and more explosive, allowing him to blow past Chris and finish with a powerful dunk. Chris could only shake his head in resignation.
Acknowledging the outcome, Chris wiped his sweat, conceded the jersey number, and left the court. "No. 1 is yours," he said.
"Thank you!" Lian Dao replied, though he was a bit puzzled by Chris's quick surrender. He knew that Chris didn't have to make the jersey number a bet, yet he did, which spoke volumes about Chris's character.
As Chris walked off, he waved his hand, recognizing that he couldn't defend against Lian Dao's quickness. With Lian Dao standing at 2.06 meters and possessing such agility, Chris knew he couldn't stop him from driving to the basket, let alone guarding him from beyond the arc. Chris also recalled that even Al Harrington couldn't withstand Lian Dao's strength. Facing a point guard like himself, Lian Dao's physical advantage was even more pronounced.
In the end, Chris was relieved he didn't push his luck further—he didn't want to end up like Al Harrington, with a shaved head and bruised pride. He knew when to concede gracefully.
As usual, Lian Dao stayed late after practice, working on his game long after most of his teammates had left the court. But today was different—despite the late hour, none of the veterans had left.
Lian Dao couldn't help but wonder what was going on. Had there been a crackdown on the Knicks' favorite nightclubs? Or maybe all of their girlfriends happened to be unavailable tonight? The idea that these guys had suddenly realized they were wasting their talents and decided to start training hard seemed far-fetched.
Lian Dao chuckled to himself, finding it more believable that their girlfriends had all coincidentally had the same scheduling conflict.
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Lian Dao wrapped up his session and said goodbye to his teammates, still puzzled by their lingering presence. He headed to the parking lot, only to find that his Wrangler was missing from its spot.
His first thought was that the car had been stolen, but then he quickly dismissed the idea—it was Madison Square Garden, after all, and security was tight. Who would be bold enough to steal a car from here?
Then he remembered something: Chandler had asked to borrow his car keys earlier, saying he was going to buy donuts. Lian Dao had handed over the keys without a second thought, engrossed in his training.
Chandler had returned the keys afterward, and Lian Dao hadn't noticed anything unusual at the time. But now, as he stood in the empty parking spot, it dawned on him—this was a rookie prank.
Up until now, Lian Dao had thought he might escape the usual rookie hazing, given his status as the No. 1 pick. But it seemed he had been wrong. He tried calling Chandler, but the call went unanswered, clearly ignored on purpose. Left with no other choice, Lian Dao asked the security staff if they had seen his car.
After a moment's hesitation, one of them confirmed that the car was indeed parked in the underground lot, though he didn't say exactly where. From the sly smile on the guard's face, Lian Dao knew the man was in on the joke but wasn't going to spoil it.
Resigned to the situation, Lian Dao began his search. He wandered the lot for a while before finally finding his Wrangler tucked away in a corner. But as he approached, he noticed something off—through the windshield, he could see the car was filled with popcorn.
The sight made him laugh, despite himself. When he opened the door, a cascade of popcorn spilled out onto the ground.
Lian Dao reached into the car, grabbed a handful of popcorn, and popped it into his mouth. Surprisingly, it wasn't bad—creamy, with just the right amount of salt.
Meanwhile, back in the locker room, the veterans were watching him on a security monitor, howling with laughter. They had been betting on how long it would take Lian Dao to find his car, thoroughly enjoying their prank.
Later, when Lian Dao learned about the entire setup, he couldn't help but shake his head in disdain at the lack of creativity. He wasn't too upset, though—after all, rookie hazing was a time-honored NBA tradition.
Every rookie went through it, from Kobe Bryant, who was once sent on donut runs during his rookie season, to LeBron James, who had to carry veteran players' shoes and fetch donuts miles away.
Even Yao Ming wasn't spared; one of his teammates once ordered him to tie his shoelaces, an act that crossed the line from hazing into outright disrespect.
Compared to what others had endured, Lian Dao's prank was relatively mild. Still, it was clear that his playing style had earned him a certain level of respect—or perhaps fear.
After all, this was the same Lian Dao who had once left a teammate with a concussion and two broken ribs during practice. He had even knocked down Thabeet from his No. 2 draft pick status, and Haddadi had been flattened to the floor, becoming a background character in Lian Dao's career highlights. With that kind of reputation, the veterans knew better than to push their pranks too far.
They had all witnessed Lian Dao's power in the gym earlier that day, where he had bench-pressed 380 pounds (172 kilograms), leaving everyone in awe. Sure, there were players like LeBron James and Michael Jordan who could press more, but Lian Dao had only just entered the league.
He hadn't even begun serious weight training yet. Who knew how much stronger he would become with regular strength and muscle training? No one could say for sure, but one thing was clear: Lian Dao was destined to be a force in the NBA.