score maniac

Chapter 11: I’m Your Dad!

Traded on Draft Day! If there’s anything more humiliating for a prospect entering the NBA Draft than going undrafted, this is it. Sometimes, teams trade prospects right on draft day to acquire a superstar or to free up salary cap space or roster spots—and that’s understandable. But sometimes, a team simply doesn’t see much potential in a prospect and uses him—along with some throw-ins and cash—to trade for a younger player with a higher draft pick. In that situation, the traded player is nothing more than a pawn, a dispensable figure included in the deal solely to balance the roster and salary parity. For these traded rookies, it’s incredibly humiliating to be notified they’ve been traded right after the draft ends, before they’ve even had a chance to celebrate with family and friends. But Gu Yu’s situation was even more extreme. “What…??!” The live interview was only halfway through, and even though Gu Yu hadn’t been notified yet, the media had already picked up the news from reports at the scene. This left both Gu Yu and Yu Chenyi frozen in place, and the interview, which was only halfway through, nearly came to a halt. This… The two looked at each other, suddenly at a loss for words. He’d been selected, but the team hadn’t notified him. He’d been traded, and still, the team hadn’t notified him. From start to finish, Gu Yu hadn’t had a single point of contact with the Timberwolves; out of the blue, he’d been passed around like a soccer ball. Don’t they treat people like human beings at all…?? “Gu Yu…!” Seeing Gu Yu’s expression grow increasingly grim, Yu Chenyi—who knew full well how hot-tempered he was—began to panic. This was a live broadcast, after all. If Gu Yu said something inappropriate on camera, this perfectly normal interview would turn into a complete farce! Although the Timberwolves’ behavior was indeed outrageous, Gu Yu was, after all, just a player drafted in the very last round—the fact that he’d been “drafted” at all was already an unexpected stroke of good fortune. To Gu Yu, the whole thing felt like the Timberwolves were blatantly looking down on him. But to fans and the general public, it was nothing more than a run-of-the-mill “trash player trade.” Gu Yu, you’ve got to stay calm! “Timberwolves…” Gu Yu clenched his teeth and murmured the Timberwolves’ name under his breath, his expression growing increasingly grim, as if flames were about to burst from his shaven head. “Um… well, that’s it for the on-site interview. Host…” “Kahn’s out! Timberwolves General Manager David Kahn is out!!” Over here, Yu Chenyi was just about to wrap up the interview rather awkwardly when a commotion suddenly erupted near the Madison Square exit. “David! Over here, over here! We’re from T-Stage—could you spare a moment for an interview??” “David! You just drafted the mysterious Chinese player Gu, and then struck a deal with the Kings right here on the court. Can you reveal any details about the trade?” “Since you drafted him, why trade Gu away? David, could you explain that a little…?” From within the crowd, David Kahn, his small eyes wide open and a portly expression on his face, walked out slowly, greeting the reporters as he made his way toward the car that had been waiting nearby. Although people habitually referred to Kahn as the “Timberwolves General Manager,” his actual title was President of Basketball Operations for the Timberwolves, and he wielded considerable power. From player selection to coaching appointments, from trade strategies to team-building philosophy, Kahn’s vision essentially dictated the Timberwolves’ future direction. Over the past few years, Kahn’s overall team-building strategy has been nothing short of chaotic: he has continuously stockpiled young players, yet created significant positional overlaps. Every year during free agency and the trade market, questions like “Which team is David Kahn helping out this time?” and “Which brain-dead player has David Kahn signed now?” have been common topics of conversation over coffee and dinner. Kahn’s draft and trade acumen, as assessed by renowned basketball experts Chartford and John Hollinger, can be summed up in one word: “Baffling.” Or, to use a meme familiar to our readers, it’s that “black question mark face” from Nick Young. “Hold on a second, everyone, hold on a second. I’ll do the interview as soon as I finish this call. Give me a little privacy, thanks!” Kahn is a seasoned veteran; he didn’t seem too flustered by the media. Clearly, he didn’t take the series of moves he’d just made seriously. He waved his hand with a smile, strode quickly to his car, got in, picked up the phone, and started talking—leaving the reporters standing by the car door, staring blankly. Kahn kept his word; the call was indeed quick and to the point, wrapping up in just two or three minutes. After hanging up, he got out of the car, smoothed out his suit, and smiled at the sea of media cameras: “First, let me update everyone: the trade is complete. I was just speaking with Kings GM Petri, and we’ve finalized all the details. Once the contract is signed, it’s a done deal! Thank you all for your interest. I’ll be on my way now. Goodbye!” With that, Kahn opened the car door and was about to leave. “Oh? Who did you get in exchange for Gu??” The reporters hurriedly pressed him for an answer. “Huh? Who did you get in exchange?” Kahn paused, turned around, and looked at the reporters in confusion. “We didn’t get anyone in return!” “N-no one…?” The reporters on the scene were all baffled. Isn’t a trade supposed to be a give-and-take—you give a player, I give a player? No one was acquired in return? So was Gu Yu just given away to the Kings for free? Playing the good Samaritan? Even if the Timberwolves agreed, the league wouldn’t approve it! That completely disregards the trade rules! “…Oh, I see. Haha, you’ve got it all wrong!” Kahn finally caught on and laughed, “Here’s the thing: our trade with the Kings involves only one player—that is… um, what’s his name again?” “Gu… Gu Yu!” The reporters were at a loss for words and hurriedly reminded him. “Oh, right, Gu Yu,” Kahn said, slapping his forehead and laughing. “He’s the only player in the trade. We got a little cash from the Kings in return.” ……What?!! That answer sent the room into an uproar. Trading a newly drafted rookie for a little cash?? According to the trade rules, this is technically allowed, but… isn’t this practically the same as giving him away for free?! “Hmm… it seems you’ve misunderstood a bit. Let me explain briefly.” Kahn said solemnly, “As you all know, through trades, we’ve acquired several draft picks this year. We used one of the higher picks to select Wesley Johnson. As for the rest of the picks… their positions aren’t great.” “It’s a weak draft year, after all. To be honest, even though we did a lot of legwork, we really didn’t find any particularly promising late-round gems. Our roster was already pretty much full to begin with, so it’s impossible to sign every player we drafted—that’s where the conflict arises.” In front of the cameras, Kahn didn’t shy away from the topic, smiling as he said, “We originally drafted this guy…” “Gu.” “Ah, right. We drafted Gu because we were impressed by his shooting ability. However, we believe that Gu’s current skill level isn’t yet sufficient to compete in a professional league.” Kahn continued, “Ideally, we’d like to use this draft to secure the right of first refusal to sign Gu in the future. It would be best if Gu could first hone his skills for a while in his home country’s league—even if it’s a lower-tier league. Once he’s ready, we’ll naturally sign him.” After saying this, Kahn looked at the stunned faces before him, widened his small eyes, and asked, “Does that make sense now?” Well… The reporters present truly didn’t know what to say. Understand? Of course they understood. No matter how good it sounds coming from you, Kahn, the bottom line is that you guys just want to get something for nothing. Regardless of how Gu Yu’s career turns out, you want to put a stranglehold on him first. If he makes it big, then it’ll be thanks to your keen eye, Kahn, and the Timberwolves’ ability to spot talent—and you’ll sign him right away. If he doesn’t make it, well, you haven’t paid Gu Yu a single penny in salary anyway, so you haven’t lost a thing. A draft pick this low is essentially a throwaway pick anyway. We selected you, but I don’t think you’re any good—so I should be able to choose not to sign you, right? I’ll tell you straight up and without mincing words: You’re not good enough, and I don’t want you. Whether we’ll need you in the future—we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it! What’s that supposed to mean? Is business just business? No. This is “messing with you”! “If there are no more questions, I’m leaving. Goodbye!” Seeing that the reporters were still stunned—clearly not yet having recovered from his ruthlessness—Kahn got into his car, flashed what he thought was a dazzling, sunny smile at the cameras, and then reached out to close the car door. “Snap!” A hand reached out from the side of the car and stopped the door from closing. “Hmm…?” Kahn tugged hard at the door several times but couldn’t budge it—it didn’t seem like the kind of strength a reporter would have—so he looked up suspiciously. This person… “Who are you?” A retro slicked-back hairstyle dazzled his eyes, and Kahn asked in confusion. “Gu Yu…! Oh no, this is bad!” Yu Chenyi, who had also been frozen in place, only now realized that Gu Yu had long since vanished. She was standing by the car door, blocking Kahn from leaving. Sensing trouble, she hurried toward the car. “…Who am I?” Gu Yu’s face darkened as he glared intently at Kahn’s pale face. His left hand clung tightly to the car door, refusing to let go. He took a deep breath and slowly clenched his right fist. “…I’m your father!” “Bang!” A rage-filled, mentally challenged style—haha! You guys are so talented! I don’t think our little Gu is that dumb, though, haha!