Champion Rules

Chapter 66062: I am a generous person (please subscribe!)
After crushing the Cavaliers by 41 points, the New York Knicks' trip to Milwaukee was disappointing, as they lost to the Bucks led by Michael Redd.

The Knicks were clearly not in good shape in this game and everyone was distracted.

They were all obviously affected by what happened on the plane yesterday.

After the game, reporters tried to get some information out of the often outspoken Stephon Marbury, but the son of New York was surprisingly calm: "I have no comment."

Kurt Thomas, who was involved in the trade, also tried to avoid the issue: "I don't want to talk about the details. Some cracks need to be mended by the locker room itself."

Grant Hill cleverly avoided the question while expressing his position: "Every team will encounter some difficulties every season, but so far Lynch has always led us through the difficulties. In the final analysis, we just need to trust Lynch."

Lynch was also besieged by reporters in the locker room. Looking at the dense cameras in front of him, Lynch suddenly felt a little envious of Isiah Thomas.

At this time, the old bastard only needs to sit in the office and fantasize about dirty things while looking at the cleaning lady's hip line, without having to have his eardrums pierced by dozens of sharp questions like himself.

After yesterday's conflict, Isaiah Thomas immediately returned to New York alone to avoid the attention of reporters.

This decision was a brilliant one, under the euphemism of "preventing the situation from getting out of control and letting everyone calm down", but in fact it was leaving all the mess to Lynch to deal with.

Lynch looked at the camera tiredly, and for the first time he felt that these things that once made his blood boil were so annoying.

"Lin Qi, did you really fight the assassin?"

"No, if he had, you should be interviewing him in the hospital right now."

A second reporter pushed his way through the crowd and asked, "Was Kurt Thomas's involvement in trade rumors the main reason for your argument with him? Did you object to the management's decision? Why?"

"Why would we trade a brother who's helping the team win?"

A third voice came from above, not giving Lynch any time to breathe: "Eddy Curry is about to join. Does working with him make you feel any pressure?"

“I never judge a dice before it lands.”

Then came the fourth question: "Isiah is considered the best general manager this season, but you don't seem to trust his operations."

"After LeBron loaned out for the playoffs, Isaiah is loaning out the best general manager again? Then I'll loan out two dynasties first, and I declare that I am now the number one pick for the best in history."

Lynch's answer was perfunctory. He just wanted to change his clothes quickly and get on the bus back to the hotel.

On the team bus, the wet and cold windows were covered with condensation. Lynch rested his forehead against the glass. The scattered lights on the streets of Milwaukee turned into spots of light in the night.

The desertedness of this ghost place made Lynch feel relaxed.

Head coach Lenny Wilkens tapped Lynch's chair with a rolled-up newspaper, his voice hoarse from the game just ended. "I told you, kid, it was my job to confront Isiah."

Lynch's breath misted the glass. "Isaiah won't listen to you. Do you know why Michael Jordan's scepter hangs over Jerry Krause's head? Because it's the authority of a core player, a kind of intimidation that can make the general manager hear his own heartbeat. Scottie Pippen stayed in Chicago, but it wasn't because of any nice words from the Phil Jackson."

Lenny Wilkens couldn't refute it, couldn't utter a single word. As head coach, he had yet to establish real influence in the Knicks.

In fact, if it weren't for Lynch before, he would even have to let Jamal Crawford start now.

He wanted to protect Lynch, but his energy was not as good as the rookie.

"But you did overdo it yesterday, and this will become a focal point for public opinion. The public can accept you having affairs with Hollywood bitches, but it's hard to accept a player contradicting the general manager."

"Fuck public opinion!" Lynch's eyes sparkled with the light of youth. The two men's attitudes towards Isiah Thomas truly reflected their age difference. "As long as I can lead the team to victory, Spike Lee would be willing to do a striptease for me. But Isiah's stupid trade is destroying the team! Eddy Curry? God, what's wrong with the assassin's brain? Karl Malone is really responsible for this ridiculous decision!"

Eddy Curry, one of the Bulls' most promising prospects by Jerry Krause, finally became the Bulls' scoring leader this season.

He has a soft touch and his immense weight makes him a threat in the post, making him a good low-post scorer.

When Jerry Krause chose him and Tyson Chandler, he hoped that one of them would develop offense and the other would develop defense, and become the perfect twin towers of Chicago.

But his performance is like the unpredictable weather in Chicago; when he's in the mood, he can be a threat in the low post.

When he is in a bad mood, he would rather sit in the center circle with a bucket of popcorn and watch his teammates play.

On the defensive end, he was never in a good mood.

He gets really excited when Tyson Chandler has a great game.

But when Eddy Curry plays a great game, he has no expression at all because he doesn't care at all.

This is a person who doesn't care about winning at all, and this is the essential difference between him and Stephen Marbury.

Marbury can be reborn in the current Knicks, but Eddy Curry has no chance. His inherent casual nature is destined to be incompatible with New York's iron-blooded genes.

The next day, the team returned to New York.

The headlines of major New York media were dominated by this public dispute between generals and coaches. The New York Times used a full page to publish a composite photo of Lynch angrily scolding Thomas, with the headline "The Duel between the New King and the Jester."

Lynch got into his Rolls-Royce Phantom with an unhappy look on his face. On the back seat was a pink card with a lip print on it, emitting a faint scent of perfume. Jessica Alba's private number lay quietly on the leather seat, as if it were the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden, within easy reach.

Lynch picked up the card. The driver assumed the young star was going to relax today. As far as he knew, Jessica Alba hadn't left New York yet.

It doesn’t matter if you go directly. The velvet glove box of Rolls-Royce always has a whole box of protective equipment for the owner of the car.

The driver was about to start the engine when the instruction from the back seat surprised him: "Go to that fat pig James Dolan's estate." Then, Lynch crumpled the card into a ball.

At this moment, what was rolling in Lynch's mind was not the graceful figure of the Hollywood actress, but Eddy Curry's lazy defense and Isaiah Thomas' sinister smile.

He wouldn't let these two idiots ruin the Knicks, who were finally getting back on track.

Dolan asked Lynch to talk today, and we must talk it through!
-
This huge manor and its retro architectural style once made Lynch suspect that James Dolan might really be the caped vigilante from Gotham City in the comics. It was not until he remembered that Dolan's belly and sagging breasts could not fit into the Batsuit, and that his sagging double chin would tremble with laughter, that he curled the corners of his mouth in self-mockery.

Lynch was greeted by a maid wearing a lace bow tie and led to James Dolan's cigar room on the second floor.

Lynch pushed open the heavy walnut door and saw Isiah Thomas bowing respectfully like an ancient Roman slave, lighting a cigar for Dolan, who was slumped in the leather sofa.

Lynch was not surprised. This kind of thing can only be discussed with the parties involved present.

The assassin had a smug smile on his face, because James Dolan had personally granted him this privilege. Furthermore, he and Dolan had an even deeper friendship.

He and Dolan had drunk more whiskey together than Lynch and Dolan had known each other for so long.

There was no way Dolan would side with him.

"My boy, it's great that you're here." James Dolan gestured to Lynch to sit down, then stood up and started picking out cigars.

The assassin crossed his legs and held his head high. With James Dolan beside him, he seemed more confident. "Lynch, you looked like a mad bull when you grabbed my collar on that plane, but I'm a generous person. I'm willing to forgive your rudeness on the plane that day. All you need is a sincere apology."

"What nonsense are you talking about? Why don't you apologize to me first? We were just starting to get some cohesion, but your whimsical ideas have torn the locker room apart. You were a player too, you know how much impact inexplicable trade rumors can have on a team. Last week, Kurt took the initiative to celebrate your scouting director's birthday, and now he won't even sit at the same table with the front office for breakfast!"

The assassin leaned forward aggressively, the cigar butt almost poking Lynch's nose: "Oh, you want to blame Milwaukee's defeat on me? Yes, I was a player too, so I know that as a player, as a person playing on the court, you can never blame the failure on the people in suits after losing!"

James Dolan stroked the collection in his cigar cabinet, his stubby fingers tracing the dark wood grain, attempting to soften the tense atmosphere with his measured movements. "Alright, gentlemen, there's no need to be so confrontational. Lynch, tell me why you oppose this deal and why you're so agitated."

"Eddy Curry is an idiot, it's that simple. He averages 16 points a game, but how many games do the Bulls win? Kurt only averages 8 points, but he has rebounding and help defense. When a guy like Shaq comes running at him like a bulldozer, Kurt will be stuck in the paint like a rivet! Eddie? God, he'll be one meter away from Shaq watching him dunk!"

"Put away your arrogance!" Isaiah Thomas couldn't help it. "Eddy Curry just lacked proper guidance. Listen, we all know how good Shaquille O'Neal of the Pacers is, but he was a failed player before he went to the Pacers. It was me, I became his head coach and made him an All-Star! I discovered that pearl covered in mud when he was in high school. When he came to my team, I polished him with my own hands and made him shine. I know how to deal with young people like them, and I know how to train them, just like I have to polish Eddy Curry now! His body size can support our inside line. Your friend Kurt is too small!"

"If you think Eddy Curry and Jermaine O'Neal are the same kind of people, then I can only say you're blind, Isiah. Jermaine dared to fly in and block the bullet in the less than ten minutes of garbage time he averaged for the Trail Blazers, but what about our Mr. Eddie? He played 30 minutes a game for the Bulls and didn't even bother to lift a hand. Let me be frank, James, if you want your team to get out of the mud, then you have to let me play with the people I like and not let certain people mess around."

"What are you saying? You mean you don't need me to do anything to succeed? Who brought Grant from his hospital bed in Orlando to the Garden? Who put you in a Knicks jersey on draft night against all odds?"

"That night when we slaughtered the Cavaliers by 41 points, and that night when we defeated the Miami Heat, there were no saviors in suits and ties in the locker room. It was me who led the team to those victories, and it was me who made James's money worth spending. So yes, I don't need you that much," Lynch said, loosening his collar. "And you missed once early in the season. If I hadn't insisted on Jamal playing sixth man, you would be hiding in the bathroom making scam calls to other general managers asking for trades! Eddy Curry can't come to New York, and Kurt Thomas can't leave. This is what I'm asking for."

James Dolan finally picked out a cigar. He glanced at Lynch and the Smiling Assassin, as if he was making a decision in his heart.

"No need to argue. We're all for the team. Isaiah's performance this season has been truly remarkable." Dolan walked behind the assassin, his palm pressing firmly against the shoulder line of his Armani suit. The assassin's lips curled up in a triumphant smile, his fingertips gently caressing the back of Dolan's hand, like a fawning Persian cat.

"But Lynch has indeed led the team to its best record in recent years," James Dolan said, changing the subject and approaching Lynch. The assassin felt a chill run down his spine. "He certainly has the right to play with the players he likes. Isiah, you really shouldn't have initiated the Kurt trade just like that."

Just now, the assassin heard the sound of the balance of power being broken, and he knew that Lynch was establishing his authority.

James Dolan certainly knew that the key to building the Bulls dynasty was Michael, not Jerry Krause.

Jerry Krause is certainly important, but not as important as MJ.

Just like Isiah Thomas can't triple Knicks ticket prices compared to last season.

"You said I have the authority to trade!" The assassin who had been holding on just now became anxious, like a child trying to grab the last candy in the house.

"Oh, then the rules need some fine-tuning. Trades are still Isiah's job, but every move..." Dolan paused at just the right pace, and it was as if one could hear the assassin's heartbeat during the pause. "We must first consult our young lions. Of course, the premise is results, gentlemen. If you can lead this roster to a result that satisfies us, Lynch, you will have this privilege."

After saying that, Dolan handed the carefully selected cigar to Lynch, cut it open with his own hands, and helped Lynch light it.

This is in stark contrast to the scene just now where Isiah Thomas helped Dolan light a cigar.

This was Lynch's crowning moment in New York, and the fall of Isiah Thomas's fortress of power.

Lynch leaned lazily on the sofa, took a deep breath, let the mellow aroma of the cigar circulate on the tip of his tongue for three weeks before slowly exhaling. The gray-white smoke ring accurately enveloped the assassin's unbelievable face.

"Now," the young man said, crossing his legs and raising his head. His face was shrouded in shadow, and only the sparks of his cigar could be seen. "I am still willing to forgive you, Isaiah. I am a generous man."

He extended his hand, and James Dolan silently tilted his head. Isiah Thomas had no choice but to stand up, bend down, and gently shake that hand.

The smile in the shadows reminded the Assassin of the smile of No. 23 after the 1991 Eastern Conference Finals.

That was the beginning of his complete subversion of his status.

二十四小时后，林奇在麦迪逊广场花园拿下32分14个篮板3次封盖的数据率队战胜费城76人，尼克斯8胜5负，重回胜利轨道。

After the game, an ESPN reporter asked Lynch.

"Regarding the Kurt Thomas trade being called off, how are you and Isaiah doing? What's going on?"

"Nothing happened. It was all a misunderstanding. My team—" Lynch deliberately dragged out the syllables into the ESPN microphone, allowing everyone to clearly hear this possessive phrase. "Now we just need to focus on winning."

(More later in the evening!)

(End of this chapter)