Chapter 94: Setting the Stage 1
Now let’s shift our focus back to the game.
Zach LaVine had a towel draped over his head, yet steam still rose steadily from his body. At that moment, though, he paid no attention to his exhaustion. Basketball in hand, he was happily celebrating with his teammates.
In this game, LaVine posted 32 points, 6 assists, 3 rebounds, and 4 steals—setting a new career-high in scoring.
“I told you, kid, you’ve got it.”
Gay grinned at his excited young teammate, giving him a playful smack.
“A game like that is worth more than two days of arguing.”
Chen Yilun looked on at LaVine with satisfaction.
“How about…”
Malone glanced at Chen Yilun, unable to stop himself from speaking.
“Don’t start. We agreed already. Don’t let soft-heartedness drag me down.”
Seeing his intention guessed before he even finished, Malone pursed his lips with a helpless sigh. “Fine, I won’t say it.”
But as he looked at LaVine celebrating with his teammates, Coach Malone’s eyes were filled with guilt.
“Chen!”
After the game, Jordan came over to greet Chen Yilun once again.
“Mike.”
Chen Yilun extended his hand to shake Jordan’s.
“I’d heard people talk about how good you are, but now I really see it for myself.”
Jordan gazed at the young players on the court, his eyes full of envy.
If Jordan on the court was a god capable of anything, then Jordan in management could only be described as having been knocked off his pedestal with a single blow.
No one’s right forever, but somehow some people manage to be wrong every single time.
Since taking over in Charlotte, Jordan’s only saving grace had been Kemba Walker.
Draft picks? Busts. Trades? Losses.
In just a few years under Jordan’s watch, the Charlotte Hornets had been run into the ground.
Embarrassed, Jordan now looked at Chen Yilun with genuine admiration for his talent.
“Kid, interested in working for me?”
Jordan feigned a friendly embrace, but whispered in Chen Yilun’s ear.
“If I ever need a job, I’ll definitely consider this place first.”
Chen Yilun declined without hesitation. Was this a joke? He’d worked hard to turn the Kings’ front office—a death trap for GMs—into something successful.
And Jordan was inviting him to another graveyard?
Not a chance!
As if he had expected the rejection, Jordan burst out laughing and slapped Chen Yilun hard on the back, sending him stumbling forward.
“No problem, no problem. But remember this,” Jordan said with a wink, “I’ll always keep a spot for you here. No matter who my GM is, I’ll fire him to make room for you.”
“Sure thing!”
Chen Yilun brushed him off. Still, there was no denying it—Jordan’s presence carried a pressure unlike anyone else’s.
Not even meeting Vivek Ranadivé made him this nervous.
“What did Mike say to you just now?”
As soon as Chen Yilun came back, Malone leaned in with a gossiping look.
“Nothing important, just some small talk.”
Chen Yilun turned to him. “LaVine’s in great form today! Should we let him play like this again next game?”
“We can give him a chance to pad his stats.”
Malone stroked his beard, thinking it over. “Let’s see if the kid can make the most of it.”
As Chen Yilun had expected, while LaVine’s ball-handling had regressed, his shooting ability had already reached its peak under the System’s training.
Over the next few games, LaVine displayed his offensive talents in full.
With performances like that, even teams that hadn’t shown any interest before started getting restless.
“You want LaVine?”
Sitting in his office, Chen Yilun picked up an unexpected call.
On the other end, Phil Jackson let out a warm, grandfatherly chuckle.
“I’m fine with it, but my boss really likes your LaVine.”
As soon as Phil said that, Chen Yilun laughed.
If it was that particular owner in New York, then everything made sense.
New York Knicks owner James Dolan.
From a fan’s perspective, Dolan was one of the worst owners imaginable—promising big things every year without delivering, leaving the team stuck at the bottom.
But from a front-office perspective? You’d want to worship Dolan and hope he never left.
Dolan was a pure businessman.
He had no demands about the team’s performance and none of the usual owner’s bad habits of meddling with operations.
He cared about only one thing: Don’t bother me, just make me enough money every year.
And for professional GMs, an NBA franchise in New York City was a dream.
Plenty of capital, the biggest market.
In New York, making money was as easy as breathing.
That’s why Knicks fans were always baffled by their front office’s bizarre moves.
But under that premise, everything suddenly became more understandable.
Think about it.
You’re running a team.
Your owner hands you full control and gives you one simple job.
You finish it easily, then realize you’ve got half a year left with nothing to do.
When that chance is in front of you…
Wouldn’t you want to stir things up?
Forget professional responsibility—when you’re in that position, pulling stunts is practically in a man’s blood.
“Sorry, Phil. Right now, we only want to trade up with LaVine. What about your Anthony?”
“Anthony is off-limits!”
Phil Jackson shook his head furiously.
“He’s untouchable. Seriously, no one else?”
Someone else? I don’t even want Anthony in the first place!
Chen Yilun sneered inwardly. He only mentioned it knowing the Knicks would never trade Anthony.
His team’s defense was shaky enough—adding Anthony would make it hopeless.
And besides, the Knicks were already a mess.
Stoudemire, J.R. Smith, and Shumpert were all gone. Thanks to Chen Yilun’s own influence, Kristaps Porziņģis was gone too. Honestly, outside of Anthony, the Knicks were just an empty shell.
After finishing up with Phil, Chen Yilun got back to work. Not long after, his phone rang again.
Glancing at the caller ID, Chen Yilun couldn’t help but smile.
The fish had taken the bait!
Author's Note
Comments (0)
Please login or sign up to post a comment.