Alexander Calitheios Yang
 | |
| No. 00 – Retired | |
|---|---|
| Position | Swingfur |
| Species | Panther Chameleon ( Chamaeleonidae ) |
| Gender | Male |
| Nickname(s) | |
| A.C. | |
| Quickdraw | |
| Personal information | |
| Born | Orlando, FL |
| Nationality | American |
| Listed height | 6 ft 9 in (2.06 m) |
| Listed weight | 243 lb (110 kg) |
| Shoots | Right |
| Career information | |
| School | Florida Everglade |
| FBA draft | 2015 / Undrafted |
| Pro playing career | 2015–2022 |
| Career history | |
| 2015-2016 | Lorain Firestorm |
| 2016-2022 | Idaho Mounties |
| Player Contacts | |
| (IC) Agent | Hubert Bristol |
| (OOC) Creator | DeCr3ature |
| (OOC) Actor | Unknown |
| (OOC) Usage | Ask me before any use |
Alexander Yang (Panther Chameleon) is an American professional basketball player with the Idaho Mounties of the Furry Basketball Association Developement league.
Background
A.C. has always been a bit... well different. Born in a upper middle class household, he was unique from the day he was born. He was a very quiet child, who did not start speak his first word until he was 3, and speak in coherent sentences until he was 5 years old.
It came as no surprise to his parents then, when he was diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome when they met with the family doctor just after his fifth birthday. He had a mild version, so specialized schooling would not be necessary, but he would require some help interacting in society. So his parents began enrolling him in different sports until they found one that best fit him, and would help him the most.
A.C., even as a youth, was lean, long limbed, and quick. His eyesight was phenomenal. He wasn't heavy enough to play football, and he was not very good at swimming, soccer didn't seem like a good idea with his tail, and wrestling was out of the question. A.C. wasn't violent enough for it. His parents decided upon three options. Archery, Basketball, and Gymnastics.
Their first attempt was archery. Archery started out okay, with A.C. doing pretty well because of his great vision and accuracy, but the wind would dry out his eyes too quickly, and there wasn't much of a social aspect in the sport.
In gymnastics, the latter problem was encountered, as well as the problem that while A.C. had jumping ability, it could not compare to that of the other gymnasts. They could jump much higher and were much better at the flipping and tumbling and other stunts. He often tried to fade into the background by camouflaging himself, but his clothing would not change with the rest of him, so he ended up appearing like a floating uniform.
It was in basketball where A.C. finally found refuge. His parents put him in a youth basketball camp when he was 7 yrs old, and even at this young age, it became apparent that basketball was A.C.'s match. His eyesight gave him exceptional accuracy, even when shooting on the move, or standing still. Additionally, due to his chameleon nature, his instincts granted him a good instinct for the travel path of the ball, and coupled with his exemplary ocular organs, he was quiet adept at picking passes out of the air, even at his young age. His sticky pads were great at keeping control of the ball and holding onto rebounds, greatly reducing the chance for a loose ball or turnovers, and his tail was not too much a hindrance. He vertical leap, while surprisingly large for his height, was still less than that of the best guards. The best part however, in his parents' eyes, was the teamwork aspect of it. By the time he was 9, he had become much more sociable and interested in society. While he was on the court, he act much more dominant, nothing like the timid lizard he appeared to be while off the court. The minute he stepped on the hardwood floors, his demeanor would change, becoming commanding, authoritative, almost a whole other lizard. While at this young age, his parents found this sort of metamorphism of their child amusing, the coaches all said that they could see a potential leader in the chameleon.
He really started to shine when he entered 7th grade. Halfway through the season, he was taken aside by his coach and told he was being moved to the varsity team at the high school. A.C. was so taken aback that he reacted by camouflaging himself against the wall. It took 5 minutes of coaxing from the coach to get him to reappear.
His first varsity game was horrible. He was slated at 7th in the lineup, and when he came off the bench, he was near terrified. On his first play, he pulled out to the corner, then reversed and swung around to the opposite corner, caught the pass from the point, pulled up, released the jump shot, and sunk the three. Unfortunately for A.C., that was to be his only basket of the game. He went downhill after his first shot. He ended the game 1/7 for 3pts, with 3 rebounds, 2 assists, and 5 turnovers.
After performing at this subpar level for the next 5 games, he was pulled aside by the varsity coach. "What the hell is wrong with you? You are playing like shit out there! I have seen your play, and I damn we'll know what you are capable of is not being displayed out there on the court! You are the most talented player on this team, and probably the best in our division. So I need you, the school needs you, you need you to play at your best, got it?" With that, he stalked off to the boys locker room to find some other athletes to lecture.
Something in the coach's spiel struck a chord in A.C., and it showed in his next game, and the rest of the season. He averaged 20.3 pts , 7.7 rebounds, and 8.9 assists, and a division record 4.8 steals per game. His game only continued to improve from there. Until tragedy struck.
On December 17, in A.C.'s junior year of high school, after 6th period, he was called into the principal's office. A.C. was no trouble maker, but this unusual audience with the principle made him uneasy all the same. When he arrived, he was told to close the door and sit down.
After doing so, he endured 5 minutes or so of silence, before the principle released a heavy, pent up sigh. "I am extremely..." He seemed to be searching for the right word to continue "... Sorry, to be the bearer of bad news. I don't want to beat around the bush so I will lay it out. I regret to inform you of your father's death, and your mother's critical condition. They were in an automobile accident with another driver who took her eyes off the road for one second too long."
A.C. Simply sat there, unable to bring forth any emotion or reaction to this news, other than his skin rapidly shifting between colors like a rainbow on meth. His mind did not want to accept want the principal had just uttered. He desperately desired to reject the idea that his father, the man who raised him, was dead. But he couldn't. Because somewhere, deep in his core, he suddenly knew, he held no doubts of the fate of his father. His scales relaxed and resumed their normal coloring, though the tones were muted and dark. "Where is my mother being held at?" He asked, his voice flat, betraying no emotion. His eyes, usually so bright, curious, and enthusiastic, seemed like dark mirrors, merely reflecting the surrounding room. The principal nodded solemnly, and flipped through the report he had been given. "Well, it looks like she is currently in the critical care department at the local FurCare Hospital." He reached to the phone on his desk and dialed a number with one hand, holding the receiver with his other. " I can get you a week off of school while you and any remaining family try to deal with this horrendous event-"
"NO!" A.C. exclaimed. The principal looked startled, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at A.C. dumbly. "E-excuse me?" He managed to stammer out. "I'm s-sorry for that sudden outburst, sir, but" a new fire burned in his eyes, one that replaced the previous, it seemed to spring life into his form; he looked animated, a fur possessed could not have appeared more full of desire. " I will not let a tragedy like this drag me down into grief, and cause myself to suffer." His voice quieted and he struggled to speak. "I-it's what, m-my da-dad would have w-wanted." He swallowed a lump in his throat, his eyes would have been streaming with tears had he tear ducts. "H-he would n-not have w-w-wanted something like t-t- this to stop m-me. He would w-want me to overcome t-this." He nodded to himself, furiously believing what he had spoken.
The principal's features softened, and he put the phone receiver back in its cradle. "I see" was all he said. For a few minutes, they both sat their, the silence growing deeper and deeper, until suddenly, the principal let out a tremendous sigh. "All right then. I guess at this point there is not much else I can do. However, if you ever feel like you need someone to talk to, do not be afraid to come speak to me. Our conversations are private, you can chose if your wish to talk about the contents if you so chose. 'Kay?"
A.C. just nodded mutely, then without waiting for a dismissal, picked up his bag and shuffled out of the office.
The rest of his classes went by in a blur, and while A.C. paid attention the best he could, he just was unable to focus for long without his mind drifting back to the moment when the principal had uttered those terrifying, horrify, life-changing words "your father's death".
After school let out, A.C. was quick to drive to the hospital, forcing himself to drive normally. It would be painfully ironic for him to perish the same way as his father. Damn. It was still hard to accept that. He shook the thought off; He made it to the hospital with no further dredging of that memory.
Visiting his mother in the emergency room almost made him sick. The stench of blood, antiseptic, and seeing his mother in suck obvious pain was nearly too much. She was still unconscious, and the doctor told A.C. that there was a very real possibility that his mother could be comatose for the rest of her life. They wasn't much they could do at this point. She had lucky, the only injury she had sustained [or at least that they knew about at this point] other than a concussion, and a broken leg, was this comma.
His life for the next year became a routine. He would wake up, go to his first job, then when that was over, drop by the hospital to visit his mom. Then he would go to his second job until about 7, visit his mom a second time, then go to the local park and practice his basketball skills. He would do this every day for the next year.
One year after the horrendous incident in which Yang's dad perished, he received a letter from Florida Everglades University. It was a scholarship offer.
At 17 years old, Yang was heading off to college in Florida. Acting on a bit of an impulse, he bought a laptop with a webcam on it to take with him to college, so he could keep up with any progress on his mother. He asked a childhood friend who lived in the city to check on his mother at least once a week and send him update/status reports on her condition.
Basketball Skill-set
When watching this chameleon play, one of the first things anyone notices is his shooting. Not only is he uncannily accurate, his accuracy hardly diminishing, even when on the move, is the brevity of his jump shot. If you blink, you might actually miss it. Thanks to his species near instantaneous reflexes, plus years of honing his shot so that it is the same, and as quick even when on the move, A.C.'s jump shot, from catch to release, on average takes .35 seconds. His uncanny vision and freakishly fast shot make him an extremely deadly shooter anywhere on the court if he is given even enough time for a fur to blink.
This phenomenal reaction speed and accuracy apply to his passing as well. When A.C. spots an open teammate, the ball in near guaranteed to end up in their paws. His passes are not extremely fast, but they are accurate, and give defenders no time to react.
This combination also gives him an advantage on the opposite side of the ball. His basketball intelligence, added to his exemplary ocular organs, give him a very good idea of where a pass will go, and his insane reaction time means that he will often either knock a pass out of the air, or if he can get a paw on it, and rack up steals. Opposing players are forced to play very conservatively with the ball when he is defending, or risk losing the ball when give him a split second opening.
A.C. is a surprisingly adequate rebounder, able to hold onto the ball with great grip, even if having grabbed it with only one hand, thanks to those sticky pads. His defense in the paint isn't spectacular, but he is no pushover either. His perimeter defense is adept, and coupled with his knack for creating turnovers, dangerous.
Contract Offers
Links to any contract offers will be listed here: