Chapter Forty-Five: First Sensations

Wang Lei received a disgruntled call from Zhang Laopao. Born and raised in a military compound, Zhang Laopao had chosen a path far different from that of his childhood friends; though he himself never joined the military or entered politics, many of his close companions were now active in the political arena. Thus, it was hardly surprising that Zhang Laopao learned almost immediately after the Jinghai City Sports Games Advisory Committee meeting that his song had been set aside.

Zhang Laopao had long since grown used to criticism from people like Shi Zhongshan. As a rock musician, he had endured this from the very start. In those days, young rockers with their long hair, flamboyant attire, leather jackets, and a penchant for speaking in riddles hardly presented an image acceptable to the average person.

Looking back, Zhang Laopao realized he too had once been proud and aloof. Dismissed by the public for their music, he and his peers withdrew into their own closed circles, showing off their skills among themselves and finding solace in misunderstood frustration.

As time wore on, the path before these rock musicians narrowed. Youth faded into middle age; they had to fight for their livelihoods and struggle for the next generation. More and more of them left their little circles—some even changed professions entirely.

It was at that time that the phrase “rock is dead” began to circulate, and a disheartened Zhang Laopao also moved behind the scenes.

But in recent years, Zhang Laopao gradually came to see how mistaken they had been. Their pride had severed them from the very foundation of music: the audience. Their constant pursuit of novelty and difference had cost the “rock youth” dearly.

Yet, viewed from another angle, it was precisely their later surrender that paved the way for rock’s rebirth.

Those who gave up ultimately integrated into the mainstream in their own ways. Life forged their characters, hardship tempered their bodies, and through these trials, they finally understood that music’s ultimate purpose is to be heard. Works too lofty for most end up as nothing more than “protected intangible cultural heritage.”

Now, Zhang Laopao saw more and more people embracing rock as a musical form. The public had become highly receptive to rock songs that could convey deep emotion and the passage of years. Some might not even distinguish rock from other genres, but as long as the music was pleasant, it would find its audience.

Still, there remained a few who clung to their prejudices against rock and pop music, just as the rockers once had against mainstream tastes. These people believed modern music was vulgar, that only their music was elegant and dignified, and the masses should accept their guidance and reject the “lowbrow.”

Wang Lei paid little attention to the controversies surrounding the song. He was dissatisfied with his piece being shelved, but with someone as formidable as Zhang Laopao championing it, he was confident it would not be given up so easily.

Wang Lei’s focus now was to throw himself wholeheartedly into coaching the team. Having spent considerable time with the players, his “perceptive ability” was beginning to bear fruit. While he hadn’t yet had the chance to quantify the players’ abilities in detail, he was already forming fresh impressions of some of them.

Take Turgen, whom Wang Lei interacted with most. He saw great potential in the boy’s agility. Though Turgen’s physique limited his absolute strength, Wang Lei didn’t see this as a significant flaw. During daily training, he’d noticed Turgen’s reaction time was markedly faster than others’, more than making up for his lack of power.

Cai Aihong, with his straightforward temperament, possessed extraordinary stamina—likely a result of his background in long-distance running. While Cai was technically unpolished, his footwork was agile and, more importantly, at just over two meters tall, his height might not stand out in professional leagues, but among college and semi-pro players, it was notable. With such height and the agility of a smaller player, Wang Lei believed Cai would become indispensable at power forward.

Hawul Pilati, the “man who charges for the crown in anger for a beauty,” was not someone Wang Lei particularly wanted, but he had to admit that this young Uyghur man, standing at 1.94 meters, was exceptionally gifted physically. Though his speed and explosiveness were nothing special, in terms of raw strength, Hawul was unmatched on the team—he could bench-press 100 kilos more than twenty times, a level comparable to some of the less prominent professional players in the nation.

Hawul’s flaws, however, were obvious. Having started basketball late and always played as a center due to his height, his skills were limited and his fundamentals shaky.

But with experience in two worlds, Wang Lei wasn’t concerned about Hawul’s height. Although Xue Yongjiang suggested altering Hawul’s training to focus more on skill development, Wang Lei disagreed. Apart from getting Hawul to practice free throws, he simply had him focus on rebounding.

The rest of the team also had their individual strengths. Since Wang Lei had handpicked them all, there were no utterly useless players, even if each had flaws that kept them from being valued by their respective college teams. Wang Lei, using his unique abilities, had unearthed their hidden potential.

After reinforcing their fundamentals, Wang Lei designed specialized training regimens for certain players based on his insights.

As the team completed its initial period of adjustment, it finally began to run in an orderly fashion. Yet Wang Lei realized he was short on assistant coaches; individual training for players often suffered delays, and some specialized equipment was lacking.

There was little he could do—resources were limited, and without commercial sponsorship, there simply wasn’t enough money for more staff or equipment.

He could perhaps go and “play cute” at the Sports Administration Center once or twice, but beyond that, it would be useless. Even Li Weihong would no longer indulge him; after all, she couldn’t wait for Wang Lei to stay in the frontier forever.

So, Wang Lei’s next priorities were to secure a commercial sponsor and, just as importantly, find ways to increase the players’ motivation. As the saying goes, even a thousand gold coins can’t buy willingness—if the players devoted themselves to training on their own initiative, the results would far surpass those of ordinary practice.