Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters

"I hope you don't find this bothersome."

The last words from Presti made Yu Fei think of some things from his rookie season.

The way Jordan handled many things left a deep impression on Yu Fei, with many even affecting his current principles of dealing with matters. But there was one aspect of Jordan that Yu Fei lacked.

That was Jordan's possessiveness over his own commercial value.

Jordan didn't like the team making money off his name, which is something every team with a superstar would do.

This was also the reason Jordan and the Wizards' then-executive Susan O'Malley were at odds with each other.

O'Malley couldn't wait to squeeze every last bit of value out of Jordan, yet Jordan always felt that his commercial value was his bargaining chip, and if the Wizards wanted it, they had to make concessions in certain areas. This strong sense of self-worth messed up all of Jordan's personal relationships in D.C., and also laid the groundwork for his being swiftly removed by Pollin after retirement.

Yu Fei didn't mind these kinds of things, especially not now.

Only if the SuperSonics used him to make money could they prove themselves to be a franchise capable of bringing economic benefits to Seattle.

Otherwise, as Nick Licata said, a team that loses money year after year doesn't deserve the best arena. Having it would be a waste.

"I won't find it bothersome," Yu Fei said, "and also, I want Lanny (Wilkens) to come with me. He is the most famous basketball figure locally, with him there, things will go much smoother."

Presti said, "That's up to Lanny to decide, he is the chairman of the team, I don't have the right to ask him to engage in community activities."

After finishing, Yu Fei left.

Presti watched Yu Fei leave.

If he had to use one word to describe Yu Fei's life in Seattle, Presti would choose "hurried."

Yu Fei was busy every day.

Even the team's majority shareholder wouldn't care as much about the team as he did.

He even noticed the team's lack of community activities.

Ordinary players avoided such thankless tasks, but he clearly knew that this was the most direct way to connect the team with local fans.

If the team gave up on maintaining this relationship, wouldn't that be indirectly telling the fans that they were preparing to leave?

Initially, this was all part of Clay Bennett's grand plan, and Presti was just following orders. Enjoy new stories from My Virtual Library Empire

It was common knowledge that Bennett wanted to move the SuperSonics, just as people knew it was a lie when he promised during Schultz Howard's press conference announcing the change of team ownership that he would keep the team there.

Presti only knew part of the relocation plan.

He knew Bennett had decided to move the team, but the plan was made by the top brass.

The part Presti was responsible for was alienating Seattle's fans from the team, measures including but not limited to raising ticket prices, no longer honoring the team's history, hitting the reset button on team-building, cutting down on community-related activities markedly, and placing a bunch of low-quality staff in customer service...

The plan was going very smoothly, as compared to last year, the SuperSonics' support in the city had dropped by 20% as of this June.

But neither Presti nor Bennett expected a strong new player to appear from out of the blue.

Yu Fei's transfer caused the SuperSonics' support to skyrocket by double, instantly heating up the previously lethargic basketball market, and Yu Fei's No. 44 jersey topped the league's best-selling jersey list for the summer up to now.

In just the first week of the season, the SuperSonics had an income of 20 million US dollars.

The terrifying commercial value and money-attracting ability that came with the signing of a mega-star made Clay Bennett shudder.

If owning Key Arena meant the SuperSonics had to operate under weights, then so far, Yu Fei's performance is akin to running furiously away from the 'disgrace of the big market' while carrying the debuff of the home court and the tanking management.

According to the SuperSonics' internal statistics, if things continue like this until the end of the season, the SuperSonics will easily meet the basic benchmark of a big market team—season earnings of one hundred million US dollars.

Bennett was a lifelong Oklahoman, and he swore to bring an NBA team to his hometown, but the business income created by Yu Fei made him reconsider his determination.

Therefore, the latest news Presti received was that the plan had changed.

But as to how it changed and in what direction it went, he didn't know; Bennett hadn't said, so none of the measures for alienating fans were lifted until Yu Fei actively pointed out the issue.

Public opinion, politicians, league will, owner's desires.

These were the four difficult challenges Yu Fei was facing, and now, he had swayed the owner's resolve.

Presti still believed that the move of the SuperSonics was an inevitable trend, and all efforts to retain the team in the city had been exhausted during Schultz Howard's era. If the SuperSonics were not unprofitable locally, Seattle, thronged with tycoons, would not just watch the chance of both making money and having the team stay in the Emerald City slip through their fingers.

Since the coffee magnate had sold the team to an outsider, there could only be three possibilities.

Only an outsider wanted to buy, the coffee magnate wanted to take revenge on the fans, or... the craziest possibility in Presti's mind—The league needed to warn other cities by punishing Seattle: if you don't support your team, you will lose your team. That's why the SuperSonics were sold to an outsider.

Thus, Presti considered Yu Fei's chances of success slim, but his courage commendable—completely a choice worthy of Don Quixote.

He admired such a person, though he couldn't help, he wouldn't trip him up, and besides, if he had to choose between the Emerald City and the city known for mad bombers, he would still prefer the rainy city.

Seriously, how many normal humans would choose a city known worldwide for a madman's bombing attacks?

While Presti's thoughts were wandering, he received a call from his boss.

Bennett had only one short sentence on the phone: "We've just come up with a new financing plan, the draft has been sent to your email."

"Should Frye be informed of this?"

"Not for now."

The call ended. Directness was Bennett's style; he wouldn't waste ten minutes on small talk only to spend ten seconds on what he actually wanted to say.

Presti opened the financing proposal draft in his inbox.

"WTF?!!!!"

※※※

Lanny Wilkens never thought he would be following the most influential player in the league to the "Save Our SuperSonics" rally to distribute historical memorabilia of the SuperSonics.

Wilkens' initial impression of Fei wasn't good, thinking him a combination of The Big O and Wilt, an arrogant person obsessed with statistics.

For him, the worst part about such people was that they would never understand the importance of respecting teammates and team spirit, believing themselves bigger than God.

But during training camp, when Wilkens made a cameo as a player and Fei received a pass from him to score, the conceited number one player surprisingly looked at him as if he were an idiot and asked, "Lanny, did you used to play basketball?"

In that moment, Wilkens smiled, "Yes, I used to play."

The number one player didn't know it, but he inadvertently did something many lifelong actors from the '50s and '60s couldn't—make Lanny Wilkens laugh.

Now, that same number one player was more involved in the team's community events than anyone else.

He wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the SuperSonics logo, handing out gifts to randomly selected fans.

"Frye, save our SuperSonics!"

one fan shouted excitedly.

"I can't do it alone, so I need your help and support,"

Fei replied with a smile.

If a person's charisma could be quantified, Fei's would be at full score right now.

No arrogance, no condescension, not even a hint of impatience with the demanding fans.

He reminded Wilkens of Magic Johnson, who in the 1992 Barcelona Olympics, was a monster who signed autographs for fans for five hours straight without a word of complaint.

A natural public figure.

During the event, an old man appeared, wearing the No. 43 jersey from the 1978-79 season (Jack Sikma), adamantly claiming he was a die-hard fan from the SuperSonics' inaugural season during the league's nationwide expansion at the end of the '60s. Just for that fact alone, he felt he deserved three pieces of memorabilia because he didn't know if the team he had supported for forty years would still be here next year.

"OK, but I'm going to have to quiz you," the number one player said. "Who was the original star of the SuperSonics' history?"

If his answer wasn't Lanny Wilkens, the number one player would only give him one piece of memorabilia.

But the old man surprisingly said a name unfamiliar to many: "No. 21, Bob Rule (PF/C), he was the original Sonic."

The number one player, unsure of the truth, looked towards Wilkens.

"He's right," Wilkens said, his unchanging face displaying a hint of nostalgia, "Bob was the original Sonic."

"He is?"

"Absolutely correct."

"As the most seasoned fan here today, may I know your name?"

"Joe Kennedy."

The number one player chuckled, "Are you an optimist by any chance?"

"Hahaha, how'd you guess?"

Wilkens said nothing. This towering best player in the league had dealt with all sorts of fans today without losing a shred of professionalism.

As the league's biggest figurehead, he fully embraced his role, making fans feel respected and valued.

Wilkens believed those who had interacted with the number one player today would never forget it.

Hours later, they were on their way back.

"Lanny, do you think we have enough time?"

Wilkens seldom saw uncertainty on the young man's face.

Having seen so many SuperSonics supporters, he should have been optimistic, yet he seemed to be more downcast.

"Do you think we're short on time?"

"I don't know," Fei said. "The fans I met today are the most loyal; they'll support the team no matter what. All I did today was give them some encouragement on behalf of the team. But what about those who don't support us? What significance does what I'm doing have for them?"

Wilkens was forever impassive, like those emotionless characters from a two-dimensional world.

Fei's pessimism about the future made Wilkens realize that beneath the man's seemingly invincible facade, there was a vulnerability common to all humans; when he felt that no matter how hard he tried, it wasn't right, of course he would doubt whether he could achieve his goals.

"Do you know the Mariners?" Wilkens's voice, reminiscent of Morgan Freeman, invoked the sense of time and years past. "They were almost moved away in 1995..."