Chapter 31: Volume One: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered! - The Warrior Godfather

Volume One: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered! Chapter Thirty-One: This Is the NBA

Downtown Indianapolis, Bankers Life Fieldhouse.

Zhang Yu pounded the seat in frustration, but quickly pulled himself out of it. Since arriving in this world, he had led the Bulldogs to the top of the Horizon League standings, raised his initial capital, and invested it in the financial markets. A fortune seemed to be waiting just around the corner. It had all left him with the illusion that life was only a game, and that everything was within easy reach.

A faint smile gradually crept across his lips.

"This may be true now, but that doesn't mean it'll stay that way."

Zhang Yu shouted back just as loudly. The arena was full of noise; anything said in a normal voice would be impossible to hear.

The Bulldogs' fans were mostly students and local Indiana residents, and the arena was rarely full for their games. Bankers Life Fieldhouse, by contrast, was packed every time. The fans were ablaze with enthusiasm, and the atmosphere was far better than at Hinkle Fieldhouse.

Markbaum hadn't brought his Ford Mustang this time. Instead, a driver was behind the wheel of a brand-new Rolls-Royce Phantom, weaving through the streets before joining a line of cars slowly entering the parking lot beside the arena.

Markbaum had a box at Bankers Life Fieldhouse on a year-round reservation, but he rarely watched games from it. He said it "didn't feel like watching a game."

This was the NBA—the place where miracles happened.

For the past twelve years, the Warriors had been one of the league's most notorious bottom-feeders. They had finished last in the Western Conference several times, though they'd also landed plenty of high draft picks.

Zhang Yu was sure he wouldn't have gotten to ride in a luxury car if it had been just him and Markbaum. The reason Markbaum hadn't driven himself was the passenger in the car: Curry.

At last, warmups ended and the game began.

On the way over, Zhang Yu took the tickets Markbaum handed him and was surprised to see that the matchup was the Pacers against the Warriors.

The "Mad Scientist," though, looked completely at ease. Unlike Carlisle, Don Nelson was the only three-time NBA Coach of the Year, a thousand-win coach, and a Warriors legend. The team's record was terrible, but he could freely experiment with his crazy tactics without worrying about getting fired.

Curry leaned in and shouted, "Boss, how do you know such a rich friend?"

Curry leaned close to Zhang Yu's ear and asked in a low voice.

Markbaum didn't care at all about looking dignified. He threw several punches into the air, hopping and shouting, "Boss, are you a Warriors fan?"

Curry's eyes widened.

"Nothing special. I just happen to be a Warriors fan. Thanks—I've never watched them play in person before."

"Jermaine, you're unstoppable!"

Zhang Yu suddenly felt an overwhelming yearning for the NBA. For the first time, he understood so deeply the original Zhang Yu's obsession with coaching an NBA team. Maybe a lot of people saw it as just business, but plenty of others carried burning dreams in their hearts and fought to make them come true.

"We met by chance," Zhang Yu said lightly.

All game long, Zhang Yu yelled himself hoarse as a Warriors fan, drawing frequent sidelong glances from the Pacers fans around him.

"We won! We won!"

In the end, he wasn't a fan of this Warriors team.

"Not necessarily. Let's wait and see." Zhang Yu smiled faintly.

Curry ran his hand over the seat beneath him and took in the understated luxury of the car's interior, a look of longing in his eyes.

"Mark, you're a big shot in finance. Do you still have time to come watch games in person?" Zhang Yu asked with a smile.

"Larry Bird!"

"Boss, you could definitely do it. It's a shame I won't get to play for you, though." Curry shook his head, looking regretful.

Before long, the player introductions ended. Both teams took the floor for their final light warmups. The game was about to begin.

"Maybe, but the Pacers are definitely winning today," Markbaum said with a laugh.

"What, jealous?" Zhang Yu asked quietly with a laugh.

The arena erupted.

"Boss, aren't you a Warriors fan? Why are you laughing?"

Zhang Yu heard Curry's voice, but it barely registered. He was staring blankly at the court.

"A little, but I like Porsche more," Curry replied.

"Thanks, man!"

America really was a nation on wheels. There were a lot of cars per capita, especially among men, who often got their first car in high school. Curry's family was strict, so he still didn't have one, which only made him long even more for a car of his own.

Curry felt a little frustrated. The Boss was great in every way, but sometimes he said things that made no sense.

"We won! We won!"

"Be careful when you drive in the future. Don't get into an accident." Zhang Yu smiled as he recalled a news story from his previous life.

Markbaum traded barbs with Zhang Yu, taunting him every time the Pacers scored. The more intense the game became, the sharper their jabs grew.

NCAA was small-time. The best players there were no older than twenty-two, with only raw bodies and immature skills. Plenty of legendary NCAA coaches, like Rick Pitino and John Calipari, had accomplished nothing in the NBA and could only slink back to the NCAA to keep ruling the roost.

"Huh?" Curry responded blankly, but Zhang Yu turned to talk with Markbaum and didn't say anything more.

"Kill those Golden State punks!"

Markbaum had called Zhang Yu the day before and invited him to the game. Zhang Yu happily agreed, asked for an extra ticket, and invited Curry along.

Curry had watched who knew how many NBA games growing up—he'd practically been raised in NBA arenas—but he wouldn't turn down an invitation from his coach.

As the three chatted and laughed, they entered the arena through a private VIP entrance. Zhang Yu chuckled:

The ball sailed through an unusually long arc before finally dropping through the net!

While the two men chatted, the Rolls-Royce finally came to a stop. They got out and headed for Bankers Life Fieldhouse.

Markbaum didn't care at all about looking dignified. He threw several punches into the air, hopping and shouting:

Curry felt a little frustrated. The Boss was great in every way, but sometimes he said things that made no sense.

"We won! We won!"

"Boss, you're a Warriors fan?"

Curry's eyes widened.

"Nothing special. I just happen to be a Warriors fan. Thanks—I've never watched them play in person before."

"Jermaine, you're unstoppable!"

"Boss, how do you know such a rich friend?"

Curry leaned close to Zhang Yu's ear and asked in a low voice.

Before long, the player introductions ended. Both teams took the floor for their final light warmups. The game was about to begin.

On the way over, Zhang Yu took the tickets Markbaum handed him and was surprised to see that the matchup was the Pacers against the Warriors.

The three came out of the VIP entrance just as the player introductions began. The arena was pitch-black, with the players beneath the spotlights as its only points of focus. They made their way through the dark and sat in the front row.

Zhang Yu's gaze passed through the players taking shots and settled on the other side of the court. Don Nelson, broad-shouldered and red-faced beneath a head of white hair, was speaking quietly with Rick Carlisle, who still had a full head of hair.

The arena erupted.

"Thanks, man!"

Curry had watched who knew how many NBA games growing up—he'd practically been raised in NBA arenas—but he wouldn't turn down an invitation from his coach.

Markbaum had a box at Bankers Life Fieldhouse on a year-round reservation, but he rarely watched games from it. He said it "didn't feel like watching a game."

Zhang Yu watched them, his feelings complicated. This was the first time he'd been so close to the NBA. Just moments ago, Baron Davis had dribbled past him, nearly bouncing the ball off his foot. All he had to do was take a single step forward, and he could be on an NBA court.

The arena erupted.

"Thanks, man!"

Curry felt a little frustrated. The Boss was great in every way, but sometimes he said things that made no sense.

Every night, tens of thousands of people in cities across the country screamed themselves hoarse for their teams. Players sweated and poured their passion into the game, while coaches strategized from the sidelines. It all came together to create the grandest basketball arena in the world.

But he knew this Warriors team wasn't his to support.

"Are you kidding? You're a financial big shot. Do you still have time to come watch games in person?" Zhang Yu asked with a smile.

The arena erupted.

This was the first time Zhang Yu had watched an NBA game in person, and he was overwhelmed by the experience. The NBA's allure had revealed itself to him in all its glory.

34 seconds remained. Al Harrington suddenly launched a three-pointer, and it swished through the net. Pacers 105, Warriors 106. Markbaum leaped up excitedly and raised an eyebrow at Zhang Yu.

This was the first time Zhang Yu had watched an NBA game in person, and he was overwhelmed by the experience. The NBA's allure had revealed itself to him in all its glory.

"I don't know if other transmigrators get a system, but I don't. What I do have is Curry."

Markbaum traded barbs with Zhang Yu, taunting him every time the Pacers scored. The more intense the game became, the sharper their jabs grew.

"Boss, aren't you a Warriors fan? Why are you laughing?"

Although he hadn't watched many Warriors games this season—in fact, he hadn't watched many NBA games at all—he remembered clearly that the Warriors would leave a lasting mark on the playoffs that year, joining forces with the Mavericks to create one of the most legendary "eighth-seed miracles" in NBA history.

Pacers 108, Warriors 106. The Pacers had beaten the Warriors with a three-pointer at the buzzer!

Curry ran his hand over the seat beneath him and took in the understated luxury of the car's interior, a look of longing in his eyes.

The arena seemed to come alive. With the in-arena DJ driving them on, the fans' roars rang throughout the building. Everyone seemed wrapped in the fever of the crowd, ready to unleash all their excitement at once.

Fourth quarter, 1:28 remaining. Jermaine assisted Jamaal Tinsley on a midrange jumper. Pacers 102, Warriors 104. Markbaum smugly shrugged at Zhang Yu.

This was the first time Zhang Yu had watched an NBA game in person, and he was overwhelmed by the experience. The NBA's allure had revealed itself to him in all its glory.

Curry ran his hand over the seat beneath him and took in the understated luxury of the car's interior, a look of longing in his eyes.

The arena erupted.

Zhang Yu heard Curry's voice, but it barely registered. He was staring blankly at the court.

"Larry Bird!"

Then, the Pacers had the ball. Danny Granger dribbled slowly near the top of the arc, then suddenly rose to shoot. The three-pointer clanged off the rim.

"Boss, aren't you a Warriors fan? Why are you laughing?"

Markbaum had a box at Bankers Life Fieldhouse on a year-round reservation, but he rarely watched games from it. He said it "didn't feel like watching a game."

But he wasn't a fan of this Warriors team.

"Thanks, man!"

"Are you kidding? You're a financial big shot. Do you still have time to come watch games in person?" Zhang Yu asked with a smile.

The "Mad Scientist" looked completely at ease. Unlike Carlisle, Don Nelson was the only three-time NBA Coach of the Year, a thousand-win coach, and a Warriors legend. The team's record was terrible, but he could freely experiment with his crazy tactics without worrying about getting fired.

Before long, the player introductions ended. Both teams took the floor for their final light warmups. The game was about to begin.

40 seconds remained. Baron Davis drove to the basket and scored. Pacers 102, Warriors 106. Zhang Yu held up four fingers toward Markbaum.

All game long, Zhang Yu yelled himself hoarse as a Warriors fan, drawing frequent sidelong glances from the Pacers fans around him.

Markbaum traded barbs with Zhang Yu, taunting him every time the Pacers scored. The more intense the game became, the sharper their jabs grew.

The "NBA Jim Carrey" looked very serious. The Pacers had been mediocre this season, and their record was even worse than it had been at the same point last year. He was under a lot of pressure.

"Of course not. I just didn't expect anyone to support the Warriors... Oh, sorry. I mean, the Warriors aren't exactly a team with much of a story, and you're Chinese. I can't really picture you as a Warriors fan. Most Chinese people I've met support the Rockets. Yao is one of the top three centers in the league. I always assumed you were a Rockets fan." Markbaum shrugged as he explained.

"Boss, aren't you a Warriors fan? Why are you laughing?"

This was the NBA—the place where miracles happened.

Fourth quarter, 1:28 remaining. Jermaine assisted Jamaal Tinsley on a midrange jumper. Pacers 102, Warriors 104. Markbaum smugly shrugged at Zhang Yu.

Volume One: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered!

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