Like most Las Vegas hotels, the lobby of the Mandalay Bay is never-ending. It bleeds right into the casino, where one can easily get lost in the overwhelming sensations: flashing lights and bright signs, the smell of spilled beer and powerful cologne, the sound of slots being pulled and chips being collected.
Upon arriving at the hotel, every member of the Squadron had to undergo a polymerase chain reaction (PCR) test. No one was experiencing symptoms, but given the rate of new cases, there was tremendous fear that somebody, or multiple people, would test positive. Fear quickly turned to relief; the results were immediate and the Squadron was COVID-free. The first of many hurdles had been cleared, which could not be said for every G League team. Toronto’s affiliate, the Raptors 905, was dealing with an outbreak and would not be allowed to participate in Showcase.
At this stage of the season, the number of call-ups tended to increase. The fact that Omicron was decimating the NBA just as the Showcase was being held created a perfect storm for G Leaguers. Some were checking into the Mandalay Bay only to head right back to the airport. Others would have an opportunity to prove themselves as more NBA roster spots were becoming available. Of course, players never wished injury—or, in this case, illness—upon each other, but the reality of life in the minors was that one man’s bad break was another’s big break. One player entering quarantine meant that another got to realize his NBA dream. It was reassuring, too, that Omicron was proving far less harmful than previous variants, particularly to young and healthy individuals.
On December 17, the day the Squadron traveled to Vegas, the Orlando Magic called up four players from its affiliate in Lakeland—the same number of players the organization had called up over the previous two seasons combined. Nearly the entire starting lineup that had just faced the Squadron at Legacy Arena—that had just been dominated by the Squadron at Legacy Arena, no less—was now in the NBA.
A popular Vegas saying captured the sentiments of the basketball world at this time: “Goodbye reality, hello Vegas!” As everyone was flocking to the desert, the uptick of NBA signings from the G League felt like a departure from reality. It was all happening so fast. A player would be walking through the lobby of the Mandalay Bay, mentally preparing for the Showcase games ahead. Then the call would come from his agent: “You’re not playing in the G League tomorrow. You’re playing in the NBA. Hurry back to your room, repack your bags; you’re on a flight in a few hours.”
Goodbye Vegas, hello reality.
On the morning of December 18, Cheatham received a phone call from one of his closest friends, Westchester Knicks guard Myles Powell. Powell had just returned to the court after a ten-month absence due to knee surgery, playing his first game on the evening of December 17. The following day, the team was scheduled to travel to Vegas for the Showcase. While players were boarding a connecting flight in Dallas, Texas, Powell’s agent called with unbelievable news: the Philadelphia 76ers were signing him to a two-way contract. Powell couldn’t believe it. Finding his seat on the plane, surrounded by strangers, he started sobbing.
Cheatham was one of the first people he called, while the plane was still on the runway. “What happened? Bro, what happened?” Zylan kept asking. He could hear his friend weeping. It took a moment for Powell to collect himself. “Bro,” he finally said. “I’m going to be a 76er.”
The flight took off, and Powell switched his phone to airplane mode. For the next three hours, it was just him and his thoughts. He put his hood up to shield his face, rested his head against the window, and let the tears keep falling. “Damn near half the flight I was crying,” recalled Powell. When the Knicks landed in Vegas, Powell left his teammates to join the Delaware Blue Coats, the affiliate of the 76ers. He would play one game at Showcase before going up to the NBA for a game against the Boston Celtics—his first taste of NBA action, just seventy-two hours after returning from nearly a year away from basketball.
“It’s going to create a lot of opportunities for people,” Jose Alvarado said about the recent COVID outbreaks in the NBA. Alvarado had rejoined the Squadron for the Showcase. It was 9:15 a.m. on Sunday, December 19, and the team had convened in the Tradewinds A Conference Room at the Mandalay Bay for film. “I just hope they don’t cancel the season.”
Pannone assured Alvarado that such a drastic measure was unlikely. A pause in the season wouldn’t make COVID disappear, so the league had to figure out how to endure as the virus raged on. Stricter policies were already being implemented—NBA players were now required to wear masks at team facilities and on the bench during games, and testing would be done more frequently.
The Showcase was held in a large convention center attached to the Mandalay Bay via a maze of hallways and escalators. It was the polar opposite of what one imagines when thinking of Las Vegas: a vacant, drab, colorless space. Entering through a set of inconspicuous doors from a wing of the hotel, the temperature seemed to plummet ten degrees. Thin black curtains surrounded each makeshift court. Most of the facility was empty, devoid of any purpose. It looked more like an abandoned warehouse than the site of a high-profile NBA event to be televised on ESPN.
Reserved tables—one for each NBA organization—were stationed around the two main courts, where team representatives huddled together. The set-up was rather formal, made even more daunting by the absence of fans and ambient noise. You could hear every whistle, every grunt, every squeak, every clank, every expletive.
NBA bigwigs—executives in attendance such as Masai Ujiri, Mitch Kupchak, Sam Presti, and Tim Connelly—typically used the Showcase as an opportunity to discuss potential deals ahead of the February trade deadline. Those conversations were still happening, though they took a back seat to the more pressing issue at hand: the Omicron crisis. NBA rosters were depleted and moves had to be made now—not in February.
Birmingham wasn’t competing for the Showcase Cup and the $100,000 cash prize that came with it. Despite a five-game winning streak, the team did not finish atop its regional pod—RGV led the group with a 9-3 record—or as one of the other top four teams across the G League. Nonetheless, the Squadron would still play two games in Vegas, and recent success warranted a closer look.
Birmingham’s first matchup was against the Capital City Go-Go, the affiliate of the Washington Wizards. The Go-Go was 6-6 on the season, led by a balanced attack that included former Michigan State star Cassius Winston. The urgent need for G League players in the NBA only added more weight to the game. “It helps you get that little extra edge,” said Cheatham. “I try to keep that consistent, but let’s be honest, going into a game knowing that NBA teams are looking for guys to come in and play, obviously you gotta be a little bit more juiced about it.”
“A little bit” might have been an understatement. Cheatham was clearly fired up; his deep voice rumbled through the convention center as he called out sets and communicated pick-and-roll coverages. On this afternoon, he checked all the boxes for a modern big man. He sprinted the floor, battled on the boards, set solid screens, moved the ball, buried open shots. His impressive stats (17 points, 10 rebounds, 7 assists) told only part of the story. Cheatham’s energy seemed to inspire the rest of the team. Birmingham jumped out to a 14-point lead in the first quarter and never looked back, winning its sixth straight, 126–115, in front of countless scouts and executives.
Harper was engaged on both ends, finishing with 22 points, 9 assists, and 5 steals. The last time Young had participated in the Showcase—as a member of the Fort Wayne Mad Ants in 2017—he had forced the action and hijacked his team’s offense. This time, he played unselfishly and with discipline, contributing 17 points on an efficient 8 of 15 shooting.
The biggest standout, however, was Hill. He loved playing in Vegas, which also hosted the NBA Summer League, because he knew that some of his opponents (less—if any—during the Omicron crisis) would indulge in the reckless nightlight scene, giving him an advantage on the court. While others nursed hangovers, Hill would be meditating and practicing yoga. All of his painstaking daily rituals contributed to what transpired against the Go-Go. Hill scored a game-high 25 points on 10 of 14 shooting from the field. He hit five three-pointers and had two dunks off timely cuts to the basket. On defense, he guarded multiple positions, even spending time on Capital City’s six-foot-ten center Greg Monroe, who had over a decade of NBA experience.
Hill’s was a quiet type of starring. His game lacked pizzazz—the type of flair that appealed to fans and landed one’s name on the marquee. “He’s just not super flashy,” said Ray Hoffman, who coached Hill for three years at Belleville East High School. “Then you look up at the scoreboard, and he’s made 12 free throws, and he has 30 points. He’s just so steady. He doesn’t really ooh and aah you. He’s just a very good player.”
In the absence of “oohs” and “aahs,” Hill often wondered whether anyone was paying attention. His name was far less known than most of his peers. It was like every G Leaguer was running the same race, but Hill had started twenty yards behind. Over the past few weeks, he was doing a superb job of playing catch-up.
Several of the recent call-ups were former NBA players—recognizable names seen as reliable and trustworthy by NBA front offices. The situation was dire. Teams weren’t looking for long-term projects; they needed guys who could come in and play meaningful minutes right away. Given those circumstances, when presented with a list of potential replacements, NBA coaches were more inclined to choose the players they already knew, not the Malcolm Hills. That was why numerous veterans with NBA experience had recently made a return to the big show: Alfonzo McKinnie, Isaiah Thomas, Langston Galloway, Justin Anderson, Justin Jackson, Luke Kornet.
Hill was used to being overlooked. Still, he could sense that things were maybe starting to turn, especially after such an eye-opening performance. The thought swirled in his head as he made the long walk back to his room from the convention center. Passing by one of the many food courts, a group of kids stopped him.
“Do you play basketball?” one of them asked, gazing up with astonished eyes. Hill nodded and politely introduced himself. Though the kids didn’t really know him, their father insisted on taking a group photo.
“Can we have your shoes?” They gestured to the red and white Kyrie 7s in Hill’s right hand—his “Jerusalems,” as he called them, because it was the same pair he had worn while in Israel. Hill wanted to give them away; he just couldn’t. He needed his shoes. Unlike players in the NBA, he didn’t have a mountain of options to choose from. Hill also preferred to wear the same shoes for every game. The Jerusalems looked as though they had been run over by an eighteen-wheeler, but they were still intact and still serving Hill well. He viewed his basketball sneakers the same way baseball players viewed their gloves—the more broken in, the better.
“I’m so sorry,” he responded, “I don’t have it like that yet.”
As Hill continued down the vast hallway, the father called out in his wake. “Remember us when you make it to the NBA!” he said.
Hill smiled.
A new NBA policy was introduced on the evening of December 19, paving the way for even more call-ups. Teams were now required to sign one replacement player when two members of their current roster had tested positive for COVID, two when three had tested positive, and three when four or more had tested positive. Joseph Hooven, head of PR for the Squadron, had advised the marketing staff to prepare a generic call-up graphic for social media.
Just in case.
Birmingham’s second and final game was against the Grand Rapids Gold, coached by former NBA guard Jason Terry. Before the schedule was released, Squadron players were hoping for a matchup with the Gold, since Terry’s roster was likely to attract curiosity. Grand Rapids had several basketball journeymen trying to get back to the NBA, including Mario Chalmers, Lance Stephenson, Shabazz Muhammad, and Nik Stauskas. As of a few hours before tip-off, the Gold apparently no longer had Stauskas. The former eighth overall pick in the 2014 NBA Draft was on his way to Toronto after being called up by the Raptors.
After six straight wins, confidence was soaring in the Squadron locker room. It showed when players took the floor, despite facing a backcourt—Chalmers and Stephenson—with a combined twenty years of NBA experience. Alvarado buried a three-pointer to put Birmingham on the board. Then Young nailed a triple from the right wing. On the ensuing possession, Harper drew two defenders out of the pick-and-roll and fed Cheatham at the top of the key, who sunk yet another three.
All game long, Birmingham executed Pannone’s offensive system perfectly: pushing the pace, spreading the floor, sharing the ball. The team finished with 28 total assists and a season-high 19 threes. On the defensive end, it held Grand Rapids to 20 percent shooting from behind the arc and forced 18 turnovers. Chalmers, a thirty-five-year-old guard and two-time NBA champion with the Miami Heat, was shut down by the Squadron, shooting 1 for 13 from the field. It all amounted to a 119–85 rout, the fourth largest margin of victory for any G League team to that point in the season.
Of all the supposedly over-the-hill veterans on the court, the twenty-nine-year-old Young made perhaps the strongest impression. Many scouts believed players were incapable of improving past their mid-to-late twenties. Young’s performance against the Gold challenged that notion. Once ball dominant and disruptive on offense, he stayed within the flow of the game and still produced, notching 27 points on 10 of 16 shooting with 0 turnovers. Once disengaged on defense, he pressured his man, guarded with intensity, and recorded 3 steals.
Cheatham, who had 16 points and 9 rebounds, continued to catch the eye of noteworthy spectators. “Impressive outing from Zylan Cheatham at the G League Winter Showcase,” ESPN draft expert Jonathan Givony tweeted. “Has really turned himself into a reliable shooter (42% 3P%), can really pass, versatile defender and plays extremely hard. Looks en route to a call-up based on what I’ve seen in Vegas.”
It may have looked that way, but nothing was for certain. From conversations with his agent, Cheatham knew that NBA teams were at least paying attention. Hopefully, the past two days had stamped his ticket to the big leagues. He wasn’t the only Squadron player who walked off the floor thinking his next game would be played in an NBA uniform.
“From a competitive standpoint, it’s kind of hard not to look at some call-ups and guys you matched up with,” Cheatham said. “But I think the good thing about me is, I’ve always mentally prepared myself for this type of stuff. I’ve always kept that mentality—no looking left or right, just focusing on my journey and being happy for the next person. Myles Powell is my brother; seeing him come back, play his one game, and get signed to a two-way, I felt like I got signed. I do everything with genuine love and genuine happiness, so shout out to everybody who’s gotten called up. And I’m just going to keep working until I get my opportunity.”
“Everybody’s excited. It makes you think that you made the right decision—you came to the G League,” added Young. “This is the first time the G League has ever done this, and they’re calling people up that are high-level players. That’s a free shot right there, and you’re not going to see that anymore after this. For everybody in the G League, that’s a great opportunity. We’re lucky. So we just gotta stay ready.”