Chapter 11: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered! - The Warrior Godfather

Volume 1: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered! Chapter 11: I Want to Be the Boss!

"That's right, Chris Cohan has been the owner of the Warriors since he bought the team 11 years ago," Stevens replied.

"Coach, ha... good morning," Julian Becko said, yawning widely and speaking weakly. Zhang Yu was also feeling sleepy, and Julian Becko's yawn was contagious, making him yawn widely too.

For others, the sudden thought of wanting to own an NBA team would be considered madness, but Zhang Yu wasn't without opportunities. Zhang Yu took a deep breath, looked up at the distant horizon, and murmured, "Undoubtedly, Zhang Yu is the person with the greatest information advantage in the entire world." The idea of making money from the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis seemed like a beautiful but illusory dream.

"Thank you, Stephen, I've got it!"

"Of course, I've been thinking..."

"Coach? What's wrong?" Julian Becko looked at Zhang Yu, puzzled.

Zhang Yu raised his eyebrows, tore off a piece of meat from the chicken leg in his hand, chewed it vigorously, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes. "Brad, the sunset is beautiful today."

Halfway there, Zhang Yu parted ways with Stevens and went to a restaurant to eat. After sending Julian Becko away, Zhang Yu slowly walked out of the locker room. His previously subdued mood was reignited, and he began to ponder how to raise millions of dollars as seed money for gambling.

He entered the locker room and put down his belongings. Julian Becko and Mike Green were changing into their jerseys. Zhang Yu walked to the sidelines, watching the players begin their training, feeling troubled. Was there truly no way?

Stevens glanced at him and asked strangely, "Julian Becko only bet on the USA drawing 1-1 with Italy, and his principal multiplied tenfold. What if he had bet on Zidane getting a red card in the final?"

"Where am I going to get twenty million dollars in capital?"

"100 dollars?"

If only he had fifty million, no, twenty million dollars in capital, he would be confident in turning the tables during the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis, raking in hundreds of millions, even billions of dollars! Back in college and graduate school, the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis was a key research topic for his advisor, and he had studied it countless times.

"Why are you suddenly so poetic?"

He entered the locker room and put down his belongings. Julian Becko and Mike Green were changing into their jerseys.

"It's already June, and we need to invest the capital in the market quickly so that..."

"Coach, you watched the World Cup yesterday too, right? The USA drew 1-1 with Italy. Thanks to Zaccardo, his own goal made me $100!"

"It's nothing, I just thought of something that's worth deep consideration."

However, his original self was focused on basketball and didn't know any wealthy individuals. Who could he borrow money from?

Julian Becko only bet on the USA drawing 1-1 with Italy, and his principal multiplied tenfold. What if he had bet on Zidane getting a red card in the final?

"Ronan, you've been acting strange since you became head coach. Did that accident cause some hidden structural damage to your brain? I suggest you get a check-up at the hospital..."

Zhang Yu arrived at the arena at 8:55 AM. The Bulldogs' training session was scheduled for 9:00 AM, and the players and coaching staff were already present.

Let alone the thirty thousand dollars in the head coach contract being pre-tax salary and paid in installments within a year, even if he were given thirty thousand dollars immediately, it wouldn't be enough to even qualify for participation in the subprime mortgage crisis.

Back in college and graduate school, the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis was a key research topic for his advisor, and he had studied it countless times.

"Coach, look at Julian's condition. I bet Coach Stevens will scold him severely later," Mike Green said with disdain, glancing at him.

A phone notification chimed. Zhang Yu took out his phone; it was a text message from Curry: A high-frequency trading company in the USA once spent $300 million to drill through the Appalachian Mountains and lay a dedicated fiber optic cable for trading, all to shorten the information gap between Chicago and New York by one millisecond. This allowed them to trade using price differences ahead of everyone else, earning millions of dollars more each day.

Stevens glanced at him and asked strangely, "If it were my previous life, I would have known many wealthy individuals in the financial world. If I swallowed my pride and scraped together some funds, there's a decent chance I could borrow a million dollars."

Amidst Stevens's chatter, the two of them left Hinkle Fieldhouse.

"Where am I going to get twenty million dollars in capital?"

"Thank you, Stephen, I've got it!"

"It seems the financial crisis is the best opportunity." After careful consideration, Zhang Yu arrived at an answer.

"Thank you, Stephen, I've got it!" Last night, he tossed and turned, racking his brain, but couldn't come up with a way to raise the capital. He finally fell into a daze around 2 AM.

"Coach, look at Julian's condition. I bet Coach Stevens will scold him severely later," Mike Green said with disdain, glancing at him.

Halfway there, Zhang Yu parted ways with Stevens and went to a restaurant to eat.

Back in college and graduate school, the 2008 subprime mortgage crisis was a key research topic for his advisor, and he had studied it countless times.

Zhang Yu arrived at the arena at 8:55 AM. The Bulldogs' training session was scheduled for 9:00 AM, and the players and coaching staff were already present.

Stevens glanced at him and asked strangely, "It's nothing, I just thought of something that's worth deep consideration."

Zhang Yu looked at the screen of the candy bar Nokia in his hand, a smile gradually appearing on his lips, and he murmured to himself: Zhang Yu raised his eyebrows, tore off a piece of meat from the chicken leg in his hand, chewed it vigorously, and a sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

Zhang Yu walked to the sidelines, watching the players begin their training, feeling troubled. Was there truly no way?

After sending Julian Becko away, Zhang Yu slowly walked out of the locker room. His previously subdued mood was reignited, and he began to ponder how to raise millions of dollars as seed money for gambling.

He ordered a few items haphazardly – a burger, fried chicken – and found an empty seat. He chewed the food mechanically, Stevens's words echoing in his mind: "Unless the owner of the Warriors has water in their brain, they would never hire a young person in their twenties as the team's head coach."

Zhang Yu sighed deeply and lay straight on the sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling, not wanting to move at all. If he could be the owner, could the head coach position be far behind? He thought of a very important question.

"Why are you suddenly so poetic?"

As everyone knows, in the financial market, information is everything.

"Ronan, you've been acting strange since you became head coach. Did that accident cause some hidden structural damage to your brain? I suggest you get a check-up at the hospital..."

Chris Cohan would indeed not choose him as the Warriors' head coach. Later, Joe Lacob, who bought the Warriors, spent money without hesitation, but he didn't seem like the type of owner to break conventions.

Zhang Yu's idea of quickly becoming the Warriors' head coach seemed to have been dashed. He would have to wait a decade or two to have a chance to enter the NBA.

The coach froze there after hearing him mention the World Cup and even showed an indescribable smile. That smile looked very strange, like a man who had been abstinent for a long time seeing the latest issue of Playboy.

"Why are you suddenly so poetic?"

"Coach, you watched the World Cup yesterday too, right? The USA drew 1-1 with Italy. Thanks to Zaccardo, his own goal made me $100!" Julian Becko said excitedly, but Zhang Yu's attention was no longer on him. His mind was filled with the phrase "bet $10 on a 1-1 draw, earned $100."

Last night, he tossed and turned, racking his brain, but couldn't come up with a way to raise the capital. He finally fell into a daze around 2 AM.

If he could be the owner, could the head coach position be far behind? Zhang Yu's idea of quickly becoming the Warriors' head coach seemed to have been dashed. He would have to wait a decade or two to have a chance to enter the NBA.

Zhang Yu's idea of quickly becoming the Warriors' head coach seemed to have been dashed. He would have to wait a decade or two to have a chance to enter the NBA.

"It's already June, and we need to invest the capital in the market quickly so that..."

After this seemingly fantastical idea emerged, it took root and grew in Zhang Yu's heart. The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, and he continuously considered its feasibility.

Julian Becko laughed, "Are there really benefits to being a transmigrator? Even if he doesn't watch football, he clearly remembers that in the 2006 World Cup final, Italy defeated France in a penalty shootout, and Zidane's headbutt on Materazzi was a shocking moment."

"Don't you want to be a starter anymore?"

But an idea, a very bold idea, uncontrollably surfaced in his mind.

A phone notification chimed. Zhang Yu took out his phone; it was a text message from Curry: "That's right, Chris Cohan has been the owner of the Warriors since he bought the team 11 years ago," Stevens replied.

"What if... I directly buy the Warriors and become the owner myself?"

"It's nothing, I just thought of something that's worth deep consideration."

Zhang Yu's idea of quickly becoming the Warriors' head coach seemed to have been dashed. He would have to wait a decade or two to have a chance to enter the NBA.

If he could be the owner, could the head coach position be far behind?