The next morning, Gan Guoyang showed the basketball shoes Gan Youwei had given him the night before to Gan Guohui. Guohui's eyes lit up and he said, "Whoa, Avia, great basketball shoes! Did your dad really buy these?"
"Yeah. Aiva? What brand is this, is it famous?"
In the 1980s, Nike was still in its infancy, and Adidas mainly dominated soccer.
The mainstream powerhouse brands for American basketball shoes were Converse, and there were local independent brands everywhere.
At the end of the 70s and the beginning of the 80s, as professional sports burgeoned, various sporting goods companies sprouted up across America like mushrooms after the rain.
This Avia was a shoe and sportswear brand founded in Oregon in 1979. It grew quite quickly, becoming renowned for its aerobics shoes, walking shoes, and basketball shoes. It had considerable influence among the youth and emerging groups, especially on the West Coast.
"This is the high-top Avia 860 released last year; the tongue is marked with 'Fast,' and it has a leather upper, which looks much more substantial than canvas shoes. These shoes are really nice, really nice."
"A very popular style recently, much cooler than any Converse."
Gan Guohui was fiddling with the new shoes, clearly unable to put them down.
Gan Guoyang silently snatched the shoes from Gan Guohui's hands and put them on his feet, to Guohui's dismay, "Oh man, new shoes, and you're just wearing them like that—what a sin."
"What are you talking about? Aren't shoes meant to be worn?"
"They're meant to be collected, of course. This pair of Avia 860s will definitely become a classic."
Gan Guoyang knew many people had the hobby of collecting shoes. Sneakers weren't meant to be worn; they were to be collected like works of art.
"How much do these shoes cost?"
"They must be at least 100 US dollars. With prices going up nowadays, it could be even more expensive. For a popular style like this, people would fight to buy them even at 200."
Upon hearing this, Gan Guoyang wondered even more how Gan Youwei had managed to buy these shoes and who recommended them to him.
When it came to basketball shoes, Gan Youwei definitely had no clue; his English was even worse, only being able to understand basic greetings with no ability to speak any at all.
After all, a man approaching his forties who had never been exposed to English and had not received any education in the language, and who, as a chef, didn't need to directly communicate with foreigners, naturally had no need for the language.
In this era without online shopping, the thought of Gan Youwei going through unknown channels, possibly paying a high price to buy these basketball shoes for his son, gave Gan Guoyang a bittersweet feeling.
He asked Gan Youwei about it, but Gan Youwei just smiled without a word, telling his son not to ask too much and to just focus on playing basketball.
After being busy in the restaurant for a while in the morning, Gan Guoyang took out Chen Xing's business card and dialed Coach Bobby Berman's phone number.
It rang for a long while before somebody answered.
"Hello, this is Excel in basketball camp. I am Coach Bobby Berman. How can I help you?"
The voice on the phone sounded tired, lazy, and a bit impatient.
For a training camp like this, there must be many people calling for inquiries. To constantly answer calls with the same content would indeed be very tiring.
"I'd like to enroll in the Excel camp. Could you tell me how to pay and where to sign up?"
"The slots for July are already full. You'll have to wait for the August session. Leave your name and phone number. On August 3rd, you can go directly to the sports center at 2675 Mitchell Road, Walnut Creek, to pay and sign up for the camp."
Coach Berman informed Gan Guoyang of the registration details, time, and address in a half-hearted tone.
After writing it down, Gan Guoyang gave his and Gan Guohui's names, along with their phone number.
"Sunny-Gump? What kind of name is that... By the way, are you signing up for the children's division or the youth division?"
"The youth division. I'm 16 years old this year."
"16? Alright, buddy, I'm always quite blunt. At 16, if you're still attending a basic skills camp like ours, it's probably very difficult to achieve anything in basketball. The main age range for our youth division is between 10 and 13 years old. Of course, if you just want to give it a try, that's absolutely fine. Sorry for being so direct."
Berman's words were quite rude, and it was clear he was not a trained salesman.
Had it been some parents or children, they might have hung up the phone, canceled their registration, or even lodged a complaint.
"Oh, may I ask how old you are, Mr. Berman?"
"Me? I'm 37 years old this year."
"37, if you are still an assistant coach at a youth basic skills training camp and also doing part-time registration over the phone, it's not just a possibility, but a certainty that you will find it very difficult to achieve anything in basketball. Of course, if you're just trying to make a living, that's absolutely fine. Sorry for being so direct."
Gan Guoyang used Berman's words for an unmerciful retort.
"Hey! I'm not like what you said..."
Berman wanted to explain, but Gan Guoyang had already hung up the phone with a snap.
Gan Guohui watched, stunned, and said, "The coach of this training camp seems very unprofessional... But cousin, maybe we should find a different camp? There are plenty of basketball camps."
Gan Guoyang shook his head and said, "No, we'll participate in this training camp. I think it's pretty good."
At that moment, the jarring ring of the telephone sounded again. Gan Guohui looked at Gan Guoyang and said, "Could it be that coach from earlier calling back? Just don't answer."
Gan Guoyang replied, "What's there to fear, if he dares curse at me, I'll curse right back. Besides, this is our food delivery line, we can't miss any customer orders."
As he spoke, Gan Guoyang picked up the receiver, and it turned out to be a call from Chen Xing.
"Guoyang! Are you free this afternoon?"
"What's up?"
"Someone's come to challenge us; they've specifically asked to play a game against us."
"But we've already raised enough money."
"It's not about the money. We've made a name for ourselves on the streets, and they've come looking to compete against us."
"Alright, I'm free this afternoon. Where at?"
"California Street, Block 25, Rochambeau Court!"
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Rochambeau Court is named after the French Marshal Sir Rochambeau, who led the French Army to assist in the American War of Independence and defeated the British forces in Virginia's Yorkshire, therefore regarded as one of America's founding fathers.
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This court, like its solemn namesake, is a hangout for veterans of three-on-three street basketball games.
Not only does it host talented young players, but also numerous adults, among them former college basketball players, streetball experts, retired professional athletes, or seasoned basketball aficionados.
In short, it represents a high level of San Francisco street basketball. If you want to play a paid game here, it'd cost at least 100 US dollars per game.
When the trio arrived at the court, they found that quite a crowd had gathered, some playing on the court while others watched from the sidelines.
That's how it is on courts for experts. There are spectators, and your performance on the court receives immediate feedback.
Play well and you'll be cheered and talked about, but play poorly and you might be ridiculed and disparaged behind your back.
Consequently, the pressure of the game is much greater.
The arrival of Gan Guoyang and his companions caused a small stir at the court. People's gazes shot over like arrows, and those with poorer mental strength felt their legs go weak.
A white player dressed in a blue tank top and white shorts came over to greet Chen Xing and waved at Gan Guoyang.
"Hey, hello there, you must be Ah Gan? I'm Steve Raven, pleased to meet you."
Raven was about the same age as Gan Guoyang, with a square, broad chin and slightly drooping eyes that made him look more mature.
"I invited you guys for a scrimmage. You've been quite the sensation on the San Francisco courts lately, and I wanted to exchange some skills," Raven said straightforwardly.
Lately, Gan Guoyang and his two companions had been on a winning streak on the streets of San Francisco, drawing the attention and talk of many.
Their Chinese-American identity undeniably added to the appeal of their victories, eventually drawing the notice of the formidable players.
Gan Guoyang simply nodded without much chitchat, and both teams proceeded to warm up on the court.
The number of onlookers at the court increased; this was a spotlight game.
Before the game started, the trio huddled on the sidelines to discuss their strategy.
"What's the deal with the other team? Are you trying to make more money by taking on the tough guys? If we lose this match, I'm not paying!"
"You're full of it, this game doesn't pay. Jason is the one who contacted me. That Steve Raven, he's Kap's son."
Chen Xing's gaze swept towards a small, skinny old man on the sidelines wearing a grey tracksuit, with a gaunt face, a hawkish nose, and salt-and-pepper hair.
"Who's Kap?"
"A historian of San Francisco street basketball, one of the top high school basketball players in San Francisco back in the day."
"Back in what day?"
"The 1940s."
"..."
"Never mind his dad, tell us about the opponent and our strategy!"
"Guys, our opponents for today are the Cancer team. With a name like that, you should know that their playing style is like a tumor, distressing and excruciating."