Champion Rules

Chapter 44041: He always does what he says (Please read!)
The NBA draft green room is where top rookies anxiously wait to become instant millionaires. It is the culmination of years of hard work and effort by the world's best young athletes and their families and friends.

They're often surrounded by people who shaped them and helped them carve out their NBA paths.

An hour and a half before the draft began, a silver Rolls-Royce Phantom appeared at the entrance of Madison Square Garden.

Lynch walked onto the red carpet holding his mother's hand. The child was so strong that people couldn't believe he was only 18 years old.

Dwight Howard looked like a kid, but Lynch? You felt like you were actually dealing with a superstar.

In the New York Knicks' private room, the Smiling Assassin saw Lynch who had arrived at the scene through TV.

The calls kept coming in, and there were still several teams eager to get the first pick.

At this time, the team owner James Dolan walked in quickly with his secretary, and his custom leather shoes tapped out an impatient rhythm on the carpet.

"Isiah, my patience has run out!" Dolan waved his cigar. "Lynch is very popular and has great commercial value, but the Knicks themselves have commercial value, and not even LeBron James can make his team successful immediately. We want it now! Immediately! Lift the Larry O'Brien Trophy immediately! Shaq is the guarantee for our box office success and commercial success! Why haven't I seen any news about Shaq joining the Knicks yet?"

The smiling assassin closed his eyes wearily, then opened them again. "Shaq's lower limbs are like oak wood eaten away by termites. You might spend a fortune on a legend who's out for the season, but he won't necessarily bring you success. Others look for a big leg, but we might just get a fucking prosthetic limb."

"My sources told me that Lynch was also a fragile person when he was in Serbia, and he may have serious health problems." Anderson Carter fanned the flames.

Dick Maguire interrupted him harshly, "Shut up, Anderson, and put away your third-rate sources! We've been tracking Lynch for a full 327 days, and his medical reports don't even mention a sprained ankle. Real Madrid's medical team compared him to an unshakable golden tower! James, if you want the championship banner to hang in the Madison Dome, announce the number one pick now! We have to choose Lynch!"

James Dolan, who had originally maintained a tough attitude, also hesitated. He took a deep puff of his cigar, and the grayish-white smoke rose in the conference room, just like his wavering thoughts at the moment.

Isaiah Thomas is right, Shaq's health issues have reduced his chances of success. The last time he played 70 regular season games was in the 00-01 season.

Playing all 80 games? That was ten years ago!
As he gets older, Shaquille O'Neal's attendance rate will only plummet.

"Anderson," Dolan suddenly pointed his cigar at the assistant director of scouting in the corner, sparks of fire drawing crimson trails across the room, "tell us about Lynch being a man of glass."

"It's pure nonsense!" Dick Maguire, with silver hair, almost jumped up from the leather seat. He refuted everything Anderson Carter said because he knew that the bastard was trying to spy on his position and would do anything to achieve it.

But Anderson Carter just sneered. "Your scouting team only focuses on the last 12 months' worth of statistics. I'm different. I've tapped into my connections in Belgrade. The FMP youth team's doctor admitted that before he turned 16, he was a piece of glass, ready to shatter at any moment. Are we going to gamble our future on whether he'll shatter into pieces again in the NBA's muscle jungle? Shaq may need rest during the regular season, but at least he can destroy opponents in the playoffs!"

"Before he was 16, his body wasn't fully developed. Now he's different. The competition in the European League is quite fierce, but Lynch has adapted perfectly to the game. He can knock down every European inside player!"

"The European league is garbage compared to the NBA. Even Dominique Wilkins, who was already limping in Europe, was able to win the MVP award. Lynch's performance in Europe doesn't mean he can adapt to the competition in the NBA!"

"The level of world basketball is improving. European basketball is not as bad as you think. Lynch can at least play 80% of his strength in Europe in his rookie season!"

"Even putting all that aside, look at that kid. He bought a flashy Rolls-Royce before he even entered the league. No rookie made a more high-profile appearance tonight. He'll be blinded by the world and his focus will be distracted. A few years ago, the people of Washington gave their key to the city to Kwame Brown. Now what?"

"Your accusation is totally groundless!"

"What's your last name? Lin? You defend him like he's your father."

"You bastard, do you want to make a personal attack?"

"Enough!" James Dolan's roar ended the quarrel between the two scouting executives.

He looked at the silent, smiling assassin and put his cigar back in his mouth. "You make the decision. This is what I pay you to do. I just want to kill Isiah. The best result."

The conference room fell into deathly silence, with only the asthma-like roar of the central air conditioner making the sound.

Isaiah Thomas really wanted to kick that idiot James Dolan out. His appearance did not serve any other purpose except making him more divided and entangled.

An hour before the draft, Mitch Kupchak called Kobe to ask if he was interested in teaming up with Lynch.

"I know him, he's great, he'd be a great guy for me. If you can get him here, do it."

Kobe showed a strong willingness to cooperate, but after sending Shaq away, was it really necessary to give up so many draft picks?

What is more terrifying than losing the present is completely ruining the future.

If Lynch fails to live up to expectations, this trade will plunge Lakers Nation into an unprecedented darkness.

The rookies have already entered the venue, and Lynch, Wu Lan and Misko, who arrived later, are sitting in their seats.

Misko put his arm around Lynch's shoulders: "The driver just told me that he was very sorry."

"why?"

"He didn't know which master's masterpiece your mother wanted to hear, so he couldn't play it."

"Well, it's not his fault."

Lynch recalled the conversation in the car just now.

"Ma'am, do you usually prefer to listen to Bach or Mozart?"

"The Complete Works of Ma Sanli."

Well, it's not really his fault.

The next moment was long, as Lynch waited for David Stern to come on stage.

Five minutes before the draft started, Misko received a call from the Smiling Assassin.

"Lynch, do you feel the enthusiasm of the New York fans?" "Of course."

"Then you should also know how this energetic group will destroy you if you fail. I'm sure you've heard plenty of rumors about New York fans and the New York media. They'll scrutinize every drop of your sweat, and if you lose, they'll fabricate scandals about your entire family. Here, they'll support you only if you keep winning. Otherwise, the immense pressure will consume you. This is the curse of New York. Do you have the confidence to handle it all? Are you sure you can handle this kind of pressure?"

"I don't care what they say, I play to win."

"Very good Lynch, bye."

"Goodbye."

The call ended abruptly, and Misko shrugged: "I bet Isaiah is more inclined towards you than that old shark now."

Four minutes before the draft.

On the other side, the Smiling Assassin who had just hung up the phone immediately received a call from Mitch Kupchak.

That's what a draft is like, the phones are ringing like wartime air raid sirens.

Mitch Kupchak got straight to the point: "Deal, Shaq, three first-round picks, all yours. Now give me Lynch!"

The smiling assassin looked at the numbers in the box that had begun to tick by seconds, and the red light cast blood-red ripples on the walls of the box.

"Mitch, give me some time."

"Come on, that's something neither of us has! Don't you have the courage to make this deal, Isaiah? Don't you have the courage to change history?"

The clock was still ticking as a league official pushed open the door for the third time. "Isaiah, what's your decision? Any trade?"

Isaiah Thomas silently took out the note from his inner pocket and dug his nails into it.

He had the answer.

"Wait for the news."

The phone hangs up.

30 seconds before the draft began, David Stern took the stage.

The live camera stared at the envelope in his hand, and fans all over New York held their breath.

Dwight Howard and Emeka Okafor were hoping for miracles, while Lynch was only expecting what he deserved.

"With the first pick in the first round of the 2004 NBA draft, the New York Knicks selected Lynch from Real Madrid!"

There was an earthquake in Madison Square Garden. The camera turned to the stands and all the New York fans jumped up and cheered.

Lynch got up from his chair and cheered with Wu Lan and Misko.

Then he cried.

Lynch's world seemed to have been paused. The cheering, the glaring flashes, his mother's trembling fingertips all faded into a blurry background. Countless fragments of light and shadow whirled before his eyes, like a revolving lantern being moved by the hand of God.

He saw Coach Boško and Coach Durovic blushing and slamming the table during the hearing, confronting Dragan Kapicic, the president of the Serbian and Montenegrin Basketball Association, for him, like two lions protecting their cubs.

He saw his mother's tearful plea echoing in his ears: "I can take out a loan, I can accept the fine, as long as he can pursue his dream." The white frost on her temples was particularly glaring under the pale ceiling light of the Serbian Basketball Association's meeting room. When she bowed, a tear fell on the wood grain of the conference table, spreading out dark round spots.

He remembered Teodosic putting his arm around his shoulders in the unfamiliar Spain and saying, "Nothing can defeat us, brother."

He thought of Julio Lamas, who, despite all the pressure from Europe, insisted on starting him as the core player. He also remembered his resounding roar at the crucial moment of the final: "Don't let anyone tell you what you can and can't do!"

He heard Louis Brock yelling at him, "Little Europe isn't your ceiling, it's just your starting point. Go Lynch, go, give it a try!"

The old captain, Alberto Herreros, felt his calloused palm resting on the back of his neck. "Lynch, you're a real man now."

All the sounds eventually merged into Wu Lan's humming in the restaurant kitchen. She threw her oil-stained apron into a cape, painted her cheap lipstick into armor, and crowned her son with a cooking spoon in the kitchen filled with oil smoke.

These images flashed through Lynch's mind, and in the end, the boy who proudly promised not to cry became a man in tears.

"I will achieve greatness, Mom." He choked with sobs and kissed the wrinkles at the corners of Wu Lan's eyes, where the unfinished dreams of the girl who pursued her dreams twenty years ago were deposited.

Wu Lan held her son's face and believed it firmly.

Because ever since he vowed never to make jokes about Coach Boshko again, the term "Mediterranean Commander" has never appeared in his mouth again.

He always does what he says.

Mitch Kupchak waited for a trade to happen. Even after the second overall pick, Dwight Howard's name, was called, he clutched his hot phone tightly. It wasn't until the Charlotte Bobcats logo flashed across the broadcast screen that he realized the trade path was completely closed.

He knew that Lynch would not come to Los Angeles.

Inside the Knicks' box, Isaiah Thomas's white-knuckled hand finally loosened. The note that had accompanied him throughout draft night fluttered to the ground, unfurling its curled-up body on the carpet.

Only one line of repeatedly rubbed handwriting remained on the wrinkled paper, the ink marks having long since turned into a pale blue stream:

"No matter what, choose Lynch."

(The note was inspired by the movie "Draft Day". Although it is a football movie and there are almost no game scenes in it, I recommend it to all fathers who like competitive sports. It is very good.)
(End of this chapter)