Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters-Chapter 517 - 357: God said, "Let there be light.

Chapter 517: Chapter 357: God said, “Let there be light.

Clay Bennett believed he was a lifer in Oklahoma.

That statement might sound strange—aren’t all Oklahomans lifers in Oklahoma?

But it was different. As a top 40 national market, Oklahomans weren’t country folk, but they definitely couldn’t compare with world-renowned cities like Los Angeles, Chicago, Seattle, or Washington. Those who wanted better development always went outside.

Then, they would come back once a year, and eventually die out there, but their tombstones wouldn’t necessarily read, “From Oklahoma.”

Bennett was sure he would die here, just like his family had.

Before this summer, the relocation of the SuperSonics seemed like an inevitability within the industry, but Yu Fei’s transfer brought massive suspense, as people were eager to know if the influence of the number one player in the league could change fate.

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Such uncertainties often frustrated Bennett.

It was his team.

The source of this c𝐨ntent is freeweɓnovēl.coɱ.

He was the man with the “car keys,” the fate of the SuperSonics was decided long before he took ownership.

But he couldn’t refuse Yu Fei, because this was the number one player in the league. The SuperSonics’ market value had increased by 30% since Yu Fei had joined, and if he began to win, the commercial value he could bring was innumerable.

This made Bennett willing to convince himself, to pretend that he didn’t want to take the SuperSonics away, to pretend he was willing to look for a way to keep the SuperSonics with Yu Fei, but the tears he shed when they failed were not fake. He wept for Oklahoma City finally having a major league team of its own.

Today was an ordinary day, and Bennett was dealing with his other businesses.

Suddenly, his assistant said, “Frye is on the line.”

“Is something wrong?” Bennett asked.

“As far as I know, everything is normal,” the assistant said. “Frye just got back from China, and our training camp hasn’t started yet…”

Bennett motioned for the phone and picked up Yu Fei’s call.

What surprised Bennett was that Yu Fei called to suggest that the team recall Jack Sikma and Lanny Wilkens.

The former was an outstanding post coach, a valuable professional for the team, while the latter, though old, had always been a symbolic figure in Seattle basketball.

“Sikma can come back,” Bennett said. “But Lanny is old, I mean, he’s a bit outdated.”

Yu Fei countered, “Red Auerbach was the president of the Boston Celtics until he died, and for fans, whether their abilities are outdated is not important. What’s important is they are still part of the team. Lanny is a figure who can connect the fans with the team.”

To Bennett, maintaining connections with fans was already an unnecessary task, let alone paying a high price to keep an old relic for it.

“Frye, we’ve already restructured management,” Bennett insisted. “We don’t have a suitable position for Lanny.”

But Yu Fei persisted on the matter: “It’s not important what position Lanny holds; what’s important is he can still represent the SuperSonics.”

“I really don’t care if the old man will still be able to represent the SuperSonics in the future,” Bennett said. “For me, the future is what’s most important, Frye, and I hope that you will replace Lanny as the representative of Seattle basketball.”

Yu Fei had long been desensitized to such rhetoric. Becoming the representative of Seattle basketball? That was only a matter of time.

But leaving a position for a venerable old man like Wilkens could keep fans optimistic about the SuperSonics’ future in Seattle.

Only when the SuperSonics were determined to leave would they cut off all ties with the past.

Yu Fei wanted to believe that Bennett made this decision just to save money, but now he couldn’t help thinking otherwise.

“If I am to become the representative of Seattle basketball, I hope I can take the torch from someone like Lanny.”

When Bennett bought the team from Schultz Howard, the latter had joked, “I’m really envious that you don’t have to deal with people like Gary Payton.”

But falling out with Payton was just a microcosm of how Schultz messed up everything with the SuperSonics.

Bennett believed Payton would definitely be easier to deal with than Yu Fei.

Because Yu Fei didn’t show him the kind of humility towards an owner, on the contrary, he faced him with the attitude of a collaborator.

Bennett quickly grasped the ultimate law of professional basketball: when God said let there be light, there would be light.

They want what they want, they don’t want to hear your reasons or excuses, they just want you to comply.

Since the NBA All-Star revolt in 1964 forged the basic form of the modern NBA, generations of owners had failed to adapt to this fact, until Jordan made them a fortune, at which point they decided, “Fine, as long as I can make money, even if you ride on my head I will accept it with a smile.”

Whether this way of coexistence was healthy remained to be tested because while Jordan achieved great success in Chicago, Yu Fei built a dynasty in Milwaukee. He came to Seattle with the authority of a dynasty founder, vowing to keep the SuperSonics here, and before he accomplished this, he would dominate everything.

Bennett was willing to comply with this law because Yu Fei could bring him tangible benefits. They still had time, and he could show complete compliance before then.

Jack Sikma? Lanny Wilkens? They could all stay as long as Yu Fei was happy.

“All right, I’ll bring Lanny back,” Bennett said. “I’ll have him return to the management team, I’ll make him the chairman of the team, and if you want, I can even place him into the coaching staff.”

Was God satisfied?

Yu Fei appeared relieved, his tone amiable as he said, “That’s great. I thought you really didn’t want the SuperSonics fans’ favor. It seems I misunderstood you, Clay.”

“Fans are the foundation of a team’s standing in the city. How could I not consider their feelings?” Bennett responded.

“That’s right. We need to not only win games but also build team culture, and most importantly, strengthen the team’s connection with the community…”

This could be one of the most absurd things that had ever happened in the NBA.

A player rattling on about how to make the team’s relationship with local fans tighter.

Community events are usually what players detest most, as they have to spend a significant amount of time representing the team in various charitable deeds.

For themselves, this could certainly increase their fan base, but besides star players, what difference does it make to have one more fan or one less?

Bennett listened absently and finally just said, “Okay, I’ll have someone arrange it.”

A few days later, SuperSonics’ preseason training camp began.

This was destined to be a special season.

Aside from Lawson, Lin Kaiwen, and Tim Grover, Yu Fei now also had a few accompanying writers and a film crew by his side.

In Jordan’s last season with the Bulls, the NBA Entertainment Division dispatched a film crew to follow the team for the entire season, recording tens of thousands of hours of game footage for future documentaries.

That year, as Yu Fei returned to Seattle in the guise of a savior, NBA Entertainment’s decision-makers may not have known what the future held, but the event was buzzworthy enough for them to dispatch a filming crew again.

In addition to the league’s film crew, Yu Fei also had Jack McCallum from Sports Illustrated by his side, who had obtained authorization from Yu Fei to publish an autobiography about him in the next two years.

For the convenience of interviewing Yu Fei and those around him, McCallum applied to follow the team, and the SuperSonics readily agreed.

All these changes made Yu Fei feel as if he were living in a drama.

Because there were cameras around, people would unconsciously “play along.” Everyone knew they were being filmed, and their words and actions might appear in the documentary, so they began reciting famous quotes and deliberately doing silly things to attract attention.

The most typical was SuperSonics’ fourth-year forward Josh Childress.

Childress was a lottery pick in 2004, performing lukewarm in the past three seasons. Unlike other NBA players, he hailed from Stanford University, a school that didn’t seem like it would produce NBA players.

Childress, from a world-class university, always saw himself as an intellectual and was also a rare young man who dared challenge Yu Fei.

On the first day of camp, Childress noticed that the film crew’s cameras were always aimed at Yu Fei, so he challenged Yu Fei to a one-on-one.

“Big Fei, I’ve been practicing my ball-handling offense all summer. Could you give me some pointers?”

Childress sported a retro afro, looking like someone who’d traveled through time from the ’70s.

“How do you want me to give you pointers?” Yu Fei asked.

Childress confidently said, “One-on-one.”

The otherwise distracted Durant suddenly looked over seriously.

Roy, lying nearby receiving a massage from the trainer, laughed and said, “JC, Big Fei isn’t one to go easy.”

“I don’t need him to go easy,” Childress surprisingly said. “I might not lose.”

Yu Fei had no reason to refuse.

The two decided who would get the ball first by shooting, and Yu Fei easily won. Childress’ shot looked like a crude version of Shawn Marion’s. The difference was although Marion’s form was ugly, he could make the shot, but Childress didn’t seem likely to score.

Pumping himself up, Childress said, “Come on, Big Fei, it’s not certain you can score over me!”

However, Childress’s defense crumbled even faster than he made a fool of himself shooting.

Yu Fei faked a move, tore through his defense with a single dribble, took a big stride, and slammed the ball into the basket to score.

“How about this,” Yu Fei turned around, facing the camera, “as long as you can block one shot, I’ll consider it a loss.”

Regardless, Yu Fei was pleased that there were still young players who dared challenge him, indicating that he had begun to shed his bad-boy image.

But that didn’t stop him from thoroughly schooling Childress, especially with a film crew present. After all, if he were to embarrass himself in public, was he supposed to confiscate the film crew’s cameras?

Hmm, that didn’t seem like a bad idea either.