Chapter 350: A Flood of Contenders (5)
After the 76ers selected Michael Porter Jr., Chen Yilun decisively took Alexander.
“Finally!”
When Adam Silver announced the name, Chen Yilun let out a long breath. “Finally.”
Ever since joining the Kings, Chen Yilun had been searching for a true ball-handler.
From CJ McCollum early on, to later targets like Josh Richardson and Dejounte Murray.
Make no mistake—what Chen Yilun had always wanted was a ball-handler, not a so-called “ball-dominant core.”
The idea of a “ball-dominant core” was a term that had popped up out of nowhere in recent years. Even in official league discourse—or in the global basketball world—it was still a relatively new concept.
Because before that, this style of play had a much simpler name: ball hog.
In Chen Yilun’s team-building philosophy, there had never been a place for a “ball-dominant core” type of player.
I’m building my own system—what am I supposed to do with someone who brings his own?
But now, Chen Yilun had finally found his answer on the perimeter.
Although he had long expected it, when Adam Silver called his name, Alexander still couldn’t help but throw his arm into the air and leap up from his seat in celebration.
Under the envious gazes of the other green room prospects, he jogged onto the stage and shook hands with Adam Silver.
“Shai! Shai!”
Just as Alexander finished taking photos with Adam Silver and stepped off the stage, an ESPN reporter stopped him.
“Congratulations on being selected by Sacramento. Are you satisfied with this result?”
“I’m extremely satisfied!”
Alexander answered almost without hesitation.
“The Kings are a great team. They have excellent chemistry and a winning atmosphere. I believe I can learn a lot in Sacramento, and being part of a team like this is truly an honor for me.”
Facing his future team, Alexander didn’t hold back on the praise at all.
The compliments poured out nonstop.
“Don’t relax yet!”
Seeing everyone in the room still celebrating, Chen Yilun reminded them. “Our work isn’t finished.”
With the twelfth pick, following the Kings’ selection, the Nuggets chose “Little Bridge,” Miles Bridges.
As more and more names were called, the draft’s pace gradually picked up.
“The Sacramento Kings select, with the fifteenth pick in the first round, Dante DiVincenzo from Villanova University!”
Adam Silver announced another name.
“Yes!”
Seated in the crowd, DiVincenzo let out a low roar as he celebrated being drafted.
DiVincenzo wasn’t sitting far from Alexander. When Alexander had been selected earlier, DiVincenzo had felt a bit down—but now things had turned around.
Chen Yilun had used another first-round pick to take him.
Before the draft, DiVincenzo had been projected around the twentieth pick. Being taken at fifteen was already a big jump.
“Dante!”
As DiVincenzo finished his photo session and headed toward the backstage interview area, Alexander—who had already heard the news—was waiting for him at the tunnel entrance.
“Who would’ve thought we’d end up as teammates? Life really is unpredictable.”
“Tell me about it.”
DiVincenzo laughed.
Just a few months ago, the two of them had been battling each other on the March Madness stage, each representing their own school. Now they were both wearing Kings caps as new teammates.
“At least this gives those two schools something to show for it,”
Peja said with a smile.
Alexander came from Kentucky, while DiVincenzo was a Villanova product.
The head coaches of both schools had strong ties with Chen Yilun.
Yet for various reasons, Chen Yilun hadn’t selected players from either university over the past two years.
Because of that, Calipari and Jay Wright had complained to him more than once.
“Let me explain these two to you,”
Chen Yilun said as he looked at Malone. “Alexander probably needs another two years of development. The kid still needs time to settle in.”
“As for DiVincenzo,”
Chen Yilun took a sip of water before continuing, “he already has enough immediate impact. I’ve talked with Coach Jay Wright—this kid fits the league’s pace perfectly. We can give him some minutes next season.”
“Alright.”
Malone flipped through DiVincenzo’s scouting report and said casually, “With these two added, our roster’s going to be crowded again. We’ll need to clear some spots later.”
In truth, Malone had been eyeing several big men in this draft. More than once, he’d told Chen Yilun that he wanted a highly mobile stretch big to pair with Jokić in a twin-tower lineup.
But Chen Yilun had vetoed the idea.
What era are we in, still running twin towers?
Jokić’s mobility is already what it is—add another big on top of that?
Even a “high-mobility” big is still a big. He can’t compare to a wing.
With those resources, it would be better to stockpile more wings instead.
“Alright, I’m done talking,”
Malone said as he closed the draft report and pulled out his phone.
“I’m going to call those two guys.”
As lottery picks, Malone showed them full respect by personally calling to congratulate them.
“Boss.”
Seeing Malone leave the room to make the calls, Peja tiptoed over to Chen Yilun and whispered,
“Just so you don’t forget—we still have a second-round pick.”
“Oh, I know.”
Already holding two players he wanted, Chen Yilun smiled, clearly losing interest in that second-rounder.
After years of adjustment, Chen Yilun had finally started to move on from the penny-pinching habits he’d picked up back in his Spurs days.
“Has anyone asked about our second-round pick?”
Chen Yilun thought for a moment before asking.
“No.”
Peja shook his head. “It’s the forty-sixth pick. Not a great spot in the second round, so no one’s really interested.”
“Let me think.”
Chen Yilun scratched his head and glanced at the notes in his notebook.
“Forget it. Put the word out,”
he said with a wave of his hand.
“Consider it creating some revenue for the team. Tell them I’m willing to sell the pick—cash deal, exception trade, anything works.”
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