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

Volume One: I Came, I Saw, I Conquered! Chapter 32: The Approval of the Ultimate Braggart Life could be strange sometimes. Before the game, the three of them hadn't gone to the box seats, but now that it was over, they were on their way there. "Mark, what's wrong?" Zhang Yu noticed how agitated he was and asked softly. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who had already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "Of course. I watch Indiana State's season opener every year, and they almost never lose. I didn't expect them to get beaten so badly this year. Coach Z, your game plan was brilliant," Larry Bird said with feigned resignation. "What do you think? Should I have kept you waiting all that time? Next time, I'll have to check out Butler's dining hall and see how bad it is to make you two eat like you haven't seen food in years!" Markbaum said irritably. "Yesterday, you said this was all within expectations," Zhang Yu said with a smile. "Mr. Baum, are we really going to meet Larry Bird?" Curry asked in an excited whisper. A true legend: three championships, three MVPs, two Finals MVPs, and three straight Three-Point Contest wins. The greatest braggart in NBA history, he'd gone on to lead the Pacers to the NBA Finals after retiring and had even won Coach of the Year. Zhang Yu watched Markbaum get drunk in astonishment, then muttered with a helpless laugh, "Are you all just fighting for second place?" "That's right, Stephen. You've asked at least five times already," Markbaum said helplessly. "Stephen, if you enter the draft, you're welcome to work out for the Pacers. I hope you make it to March Madness. If you want to come watch a game, call me. I've got plenty of room in my suite." "Nothing. I'm just a little worried," Markbaum said, then refilled his glass and downed it in one go. "Yesterday, you said this was all within expectations," Zhang Yu said with a smile. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. "Are you full?" Zhang Yu asked. "Keep working hard. I see a bit of myself in you. I've always believed the three-pointer is basketball's answer. I hope you can help people understand that. If I have time, I'll come watch Butler play," Larry Bird said with a smile. Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. "Slow down with the drinks... I'm sure plenty of people have spotted the bubble in the real estate market, but you should know those Wall Street types better than I do. All they care about is making money. They don't mind making the bubble bigger. They figure someone will always be left holding the bag," Zhang Yu said with a light laugh. "Larry, you're setting Stephen up for a fall," Zhang Yu teased. The two of them still had things to discuss. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Call me Larry. I'd only just entered the NBA at twenty-three, while you're already the head coach at Butler. I'm optimistic about your future," Larry Bird said warmly, taking Zhang Yu's hand. "That's right, Stephen. You've asked at least five times already," Markbaum said helplessly. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! The two of them still had things to discuss. Markbaum swayed, his eyes growing unfocused. A long, unconscious groan escaped his throat, and he slumped onto the table. His right hand jerked up, knocking over his glass and spilling liquor across the table. After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." A true legend: three championships, three MVPs, two Finals MVPs, and three straight Three-Point Contest wins. The greatest braggart in NBA history, he'd gone on to lead the Pacers to the NBA Finals after retiring and had even won Coach of the Year. "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. "That was just a polite thing to say. You actually believed him? Jordan said Kwame Brown could become a superstar, too. If you don't work hard, you won't even make it to March Madness!" Zhang Yu shook his head with a laugh. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. He'd lived up to every boast he'd ever made. Curry hadn't watched many of his games, but he knew his famous quotes by heart. "Sorry, Mr. Baum. I'm used to eating like this..." Zhang Yu looked at Curry's dejected face, a faint smile tugging at his lips. After the three of them left Bankers Life Fieldhouse, Markbaum's driver was already waiting at the roadside. Zhang Yu watched Markbaum get drunk in astonishment, then muttered with a helpless laugh, "Larry! You can't steal the cornerstone of my team!" Zhang Yu quickly cut in. "Oh, all right... I'll work hard on my game," Curry said, lowering his head, his voice a little dejected. Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." "Are you all just fighting for second place?" He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "Nothing. I'm just a little worried," Markbaum said, then refilled his glass and downed it in one go. Zhang Yu looked at Curry's dejected face, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I'm going to hit the game-winner right here." Markbaum swayed, his eyes growing unfocused. A long, unconscious groan escaped his throat, and he slumped onto the table. His right hand jerked up, knocking over his glass and spilling liquor across the table. "That's right, Stephen. You've asked at least five times already," Markbaum said helplessly. Over his fourteen seasons in the NBA, Bird had left behind countless legendary moments and remained hugely popular. Curry was thrilled as soon as he heard they were going to meet him. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. "So you can't hold your liquor? You've been knocking them back one after another. I thought you could really drink." Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. "Of course. I watch Indiana State's season opener every year, and they almost never lose. I didn't expect them to get beaten so badly this year. Coach Z, your game plan was brilliant," Larry Bird said with feigned resignation. The driver first dropped Zhang Yu back at Butler. After getting out, he texted Markbaum: "..." Markbaum was at a loss for words. Just look around. Every other diner was sitting there with perfect manners, while you two were eating like starving men. "Mr. Baum, are we really going to meet Larry Bird?" Curry asked in an excited whisper. The three men ate quickly, especially since two of them were used to wolfing down their food. "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." "That was just a polite thing to say. You actually believed him? Jordan said Kwame Brown could become a superstar, too. If you don't work hard, you won't even make it to March Madness!" Zhang Yu shook his head with a laugh. "Hey, Mark, the last time we watched a game together was last season, right? How've you been?" Larry Bird said with a smile as he shook Markbaum's hand. As Curry chattered on, the three of them reached a suite, and Markbaum went in first. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. Zhang Yu followed them inside and saw a tall white man with blond hair and a distinctive hooked nose turn around. It was Larry Bird, the Pacers' general manager. "But Mr. Bird said he's good at judging people..." Curry hurried to defend himself. Curry awkwardly rubbed his hands together. Markbaum picked up a glass of tequila and drained it. He took off the suit he hadn't even removed when Stephen Jackson hit the game-winner, then ran a hand roughly through his hair. "..." Markbaum was at a loss for words. Just look around. Every other diner was sitting there with perfect manners, while you two were eating like starving men. "Mr. Baum, are we really going to meet Larry Bird?" Curry asked in an excited whisper. The three men ate quickly, especially since two of them were used to wolfing down their food. Zhang Yu smiled softly and set down his phone. He'd put his entire fortune on the line, too. "Hey, Mark, the last time we watched a game together was last season, right? How've you been?" Larry Bird said with a smile as he shook Markbaum's hand. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." Larry Bird burst out laughing. "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. Zhang Yu looked at Curry's dejected face, a faint smile tugging at his lips. Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. The three of them left Bankers Life Fieldhouse, and Markbaum's driver was already waiting at the roadside. "Let's go." "Those bastards! I'm going to..." Markbaum cursed, but the rest of his words never came. "Haha, just call me Ronan. I'm still a long way from matching you, Mr. Bird," Zhang Yu said modestly. "What do you think? Should I have kept you waiting all that time? Next time, I'll have to check out Butler's dining hall and see how bad it is to make you two eat like you haven't seen food in years!" Markbaum said irritably. Zhang Yu smiled softly and set down his phone. He'd put his entire fortune on the line, too. Larry Bird looked past Markbaum's shoulder and saw Zhang Yu and Curry following him in. To their surprise, he said: He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. Life could be strange sometimes. Before the game, the three of them hadn't gone to the box seats, but now that it was over, they were on their way there. Larry Bird immediately shook his head. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. Curry had to balance practice and classes, and make the most of his scarce free time to rest. He simply didn't know how to eat slowly. Zhang Yu, meanwhile, had picked up the habit of eating quickly because of his demanding work in his previous life. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." Zhang Yu followed right behind them and saw a tall white man with blond hair and a distinctive hooked nose turn around. It was Larry Bird, the Pacers' general manager. "Is this about the subprime market?" Zhang Yu asked, taking a small sip of his whiskey. Life could be strange sometimes. Before the game, the three of them hadn't gone to the box seats, but now that it was over, they were on their way there. Zhang Yu followed right behind them and saw a tall white man with blond hair and a distinctive hooked nose turn around. It was Larry Bird, the Pacers' general manager. "But Mr. Bird said he's good at judging people..." "Oh, all right... I'll work hard on my game," Curry said, lowering his head, his voice a little dejected. Over his fourteen seasons in the NBA, Bird had left behind countless legendary moments and remained hugely popular. Curry was thrilled as soon as he heard they were going to meet him. Curry awkwardly rubbed his hands together. If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Haha, just call me Ronan. I'm still a long way from matching you, Mr. Bird," Zhang Yu said modestly. Larry Bird smiled kindly and patted Curry on the shoulder. "Jordan said he was good at judging people, too," Zhang Yu said coolly. Markbaum picked up a glass of tequila and drained it, then took off the suit he hadn't even removed when Stephen Jackson hit the game-winner and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. "Jordan said he was good at judging people, too," Zhang Yu said coolly. "Have you watched me play?" Curry asked excitedly. "Why are you eating so slowly?" Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Keep working hard. I see a bit of myself in you. I've always believed the three-pointer is basketball's answer. I hope you can help people understand that. If I have time, I'll come watch Butler play," Larry Bird said with a smile. "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. "Slow down with the drinks... I'm sure plenty of people have spotted the bubble in the real estate market, but you should know those Wall Street types better than I do. All they care about is making money. They don't mind making the bubble bigger. They figure someone will always be left holding the bag," Zhang Yu said with a light laugh. Larry Bird burst out laughing. "Larry, you're setting Stephen up for a fall," Zhang Yu teased. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." Larry Bird immediately shook his head. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! "Hi, Mr. Bird. I'm Stephen Curry, the starting point guard for Butler University's Bulldogs. It's great to meet you..." Curry was so excited he could barely keep still, fumbling over his words. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. Zhang Yu quickly cut in. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. As Curry chattered on, the three of them reached a suite, and Markbaum went in first. After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. "Haha, just call me Ronan. I'm still a long way from matching you, Mr. Bird," Zhang Yu said modestly. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" "That's right. You've asked at least five times already, Stephen," Markbaum said helplessly. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Larry, you're setting Stephen up for a fall," Zhang Yu teased. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." Larry Bird immediately shook his head. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! "Hi, Mr. Bird. I'm Stephen Curry, the starting point guard for Butler University's Bulldogs. It's great to meet you..." Curry was so excited he could barely keep still, fumbling over his words. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." As Curry chattered on, the three of them reached a suite, and Markbaum went in first. After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. "Haha, just call me Ronan. I'm still a long way from matching you, Mr. Bird," Zhang Yu said modestly. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." Larry Bird sighed and patted Curry on the shoulder. "Jordan said he was good at judging people, too," Zhang Yu said coolly. "Have you watched me play?" Curry asked excitedly. "Why are you eating so slowly?" Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Keep working hard. I see a bit of myself in you. I've always believed the three-pointer is basketball's answer. I hope you can help people understand that. If I have time, I'll come watch Butler play," Larry Bird said with a smile. "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. "Slow down with the drinks... I'm sure plenty of people have spotted the bubble in the real estate market, but you should know those Wall Street types better than I do. All they care about is making money. They don't mind making the bubble bigger. They figure someone will always be left holding the bag," Zhang Yu said with a light laugh. Larry Bird burst out laughing. "Larry, you're setting Stephen up for a fall," Zhang Yu teased. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." Larry Bird immediately shook his head. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! "Hi, Mr. Bird. I'm Stephen Curry, the starting point guard for Butler University's Bulldogs. It's great to meet you..." Curry was so excited he could barely keep still, fumbling over his words. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Let's go." "Stephen, if you enter the draft, you're welcome to work out for the Pacers. I hope you make it to March Madness. If you want to come watch a game, call me. I've got plenty of room in my suite." "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." Curry awkwardly rubbed his hands together. Markbaum swayed, his eyes growing unfocused. A long, unconscious groan escaped his throat, and he slumped onto the table. His right hand jerked up, knocking over his glass and spilling liquor across the table. "But Mr. Bird said he's good at judging people..." Curry hurried to defend himself. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. Zhang Yu watched Markbaum get drunk in astonishment, then muttered with a helpless laugh, "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." Markbaum picked up a glass of tequila and drained it, then took off the suit he hadn't even removed when Stephen Jackson hit the game-winner and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. Curry kept turning his business card over in his hands on the way back, looking dazed. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. "Oh, I'm not like Michael. He picks nothing but busts. I'm good at judging people. Stephen's going to be a star. Interested in joining the Pacers? We could use a shooter..." "Is this about the subprime market?" Zhang Yu asked, taking a small sip of his whiskey. Larry Bird smiled kindly and patted Curry on the shoulder. "That was just a polite thing to say. You actually believed him? Jordan said Kwame Brown could become a superstar, too. If you don't work hard, you won't even make it to March Madness!" Zhang Yu shook his head with a laugh. The next day, he received a reply from Markbaum: "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. Markbaum wouldn't really hold a little thing like that against him. The three of them left the restaurant, and the driver took Curry back to school before driving Zhang Yu and Markbaum to a quiet bar. "Those bastards! I'm going to..." Markbaum cursed, but the rest of his words never came. His body swayed, his eyes growing unfocused. A long, unconscious groan escaped his throat, and he slumped onto the table. His right hand jerked up, knocking over his glass and spilling liquor across the table. "Coach Z? Stephen? Mark said he'd brought friends to the game. I didn't expect it to be you two." "Of course. I watch Indiana State's season opener every year, and they almost never lose. I didn't expect them to get beaten so badly this year. Coach Z, your game plan was brilliant," Larry Bird said with feigned resignation. Curry kept turning his business card over in his hands on the way back, looking dazed. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" "Let's go." The three men ate quickly, especially since two of them were used to wolfing down their food. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. Larry Bird burst out laughing. "Hey, Mark, the last time we watched a game together was last season, right? How've you been?" Larry Bird said with a smile as he shook Markbaum's hand. Larry Bird smiled kindly and patted Curry on the shoulder. "Yesterday, you said this was all within expectations," Zhang Yu said with a smile. "Have you watched me play?" Curry asked excitedly. "Sorry, Mr. Baum. I'm used to eating like this..." Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Stephen, if you enter the draft, you're welcome to work out for the Pacers. I hope you make it to March Madness. If you want to come watch a game, call me. I've got plenty of room in my suite." "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Let's go." "Stephen, if you enter the draft, you're welcome to work out for the Pacers. I hope you make it to March Madness. If you want to come watch a game, call me. I've got plenty of room in my suite." "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." Curry awkwardly rubbed his hands together. "But Mr. Bird said he's good at judging people..." Curry hurried to defend himself. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. Zhang Yu watched Markbaum get drunk in astonishment, then muttered with a helpless laugh: "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." Markbaum picked up a glass of tequila and drained it, then took off the suit he hadn't even removed when Stephen Jackson hit the game-winner and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. Curry kept turning his business card over in his hands on the way back, looking dazed. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. Zhang Yu followed right behind them and saw a tall white man with blond hair and a distinctive hooked nose turn around. It was Larry Bird, the Pacers' general manager. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. Markbaum wouldn't really hold a little thing like that against him. The three of them left the restaurant, and the driver took Curry back to school before driving Zhang Yu and Markbaum to a quiet bar. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. "Mark, what's wrong?" Zhang Yu noticed how agitated he was and asked softly. "What do you think? Should I have kept you waiting all that time? Next time, I'll have to check out Butler's dining hall and see how bad it is to make you two eat like you haven't seen food in years!" Markbaum said irritably. "That's right, Stephen. You've asked at least five times already," Markbaum said helplessly. Curry grinned and looked at Zhang Yu. "Mr. Bird, do you know who we are?" Zhang Yu was surprised. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." "I believe things are about to turn around." "I'm going to hit the game-winner right here." Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. As Curry chattered on, the three of them reached a suite, and Markbaum went in first. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "That was just a polite thing to say. You actually believed him? Jordan said Kwame Brown could become a superstar, too. If you don't work hard, you won't even make it to March Madness!" Zhang Yu shook his head with a laugh. After chatting and joking with Larry Bird, Zhang Yu couldn't help but marvel at how Bird's success in every area of the NBA wasn't an accident. His charisma was incredible; just a few words were enough to make people like him. "Jordan said he was good at judging people, too," Zhang Yu said coolly. "Have you watched me play?" Curry asked excitedly. "Why are you eating so slowly?" Markbaum was still elegantly cutting his steak when he looked up and saw that Zhang Yu and Curry had already eaten most of theirs. Zhang Yu even gave him a curious look. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Keep working hard. I see a bit of myself in you. I've always believed the three-pointer is basketball's answer. I hope you can help people understand that. If I have time, I'll come watch Butler play," Larry Bird said with a smile. "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." He couldn't let Curry grow arrogant because of this. "Slow down with the drinks... I'm sure plenty of people have spotted the bubble in the real estate market, but you should know those Wall Street types better than I do. All they care about is making money. They don't mind making the bubble bigger. They figure someone will always be left holding the bag," Zhang Yu said with a light laugh. Larry Bird burst out laughing. "Larry, you're setting Stephen up for a fall," Zhang Yu teased. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. Soon, Markbaum realized that two people who'd already finished eating were watching him eat. He hurriedly took a few more bites, then reluctantly set down his knife and fork and wiped his hands. "Don't be nervous, Stephen. You were ice-cold against Indiana State." Larry Bird immediately shook his head. But this was Larry Bird—the Big Bird! "Hi, Mr. Bird. I'm Stephen Curry, the starting point guard for Butler University's Bulldogs. It's great to meet you..." Curry was so excited he could barely keep still, fumbling over his words. Although he'd grown up in NBA arenas and often played one-on-one with NBA stars like Carter, unlike other players who'd grown up in the projects, the NBA held no mystery for him. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Let's go." "Stephen, if you enter the draft, you're welcome to work out for the Pacers. I hope you make it to March Madness. If you want to come watch a game, call me. I've got plenty of room in my suite." "Boss, that's Larry Bird! My dad played against him. He told me Larry Bird seemed to have some kind of magic when he had the ball..." Curry awkwardly rubbed his hands together. His body swayed, his eyes growing unfocused. A long, unconscious groan escaped his throat, and he slumped onto the table. His right hand jerked up, knocking over his glass and spilling liquor across the table. "But Mr. Bird said he's good at judging people..." Curry hurried to defend himself. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." Markbaum picked up a glass of tequila and drained it, then took off the suit he hadn't even removed when Stephen Jackson hit the game-winner and ran a hand roughly through his hair. "Stephen, you're lucky to have a coach who lets you play freely," Larry Bird sighed. "When I first played in the NBA, Coach Auerbach wouldn't let me shoot that many threes. If Ronan had been my coach, maybe I'd have won more than three championships." "It's all right. You know I don't like watching games from a suite," Markbaum said with a shrug. Curry kept turning his business card over in his hands on the way back, looking dazed. Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. Stephen, you'll understand someday. You're not Larry Bird. You're yourself. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" If he remembered correctly, Larry Bird would later win Executive of the Year, becoming the only person in NBA history to win the full set of MVP, Finals MVP, All-Star MVP, Coach of the Year, and Executive of the Year. Even Jordan, as great as he was, couldn't achieve that. He'd never have a shot at Executive of the Year in his lifetime. "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" Curry scratched his head and gave an embarrassed grin. "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. He handed Zhang Yu and Curry each a business card, exchanged a few more pleasantries with Markbaum, and the three of them left. "I'm grateful to the coach, too. If he hadn't believed in me, I might never have been able to play in the NCAA." "That's right. We'd planned for the situation we're in, but a market that should've been volatile is still surging. It's ridiculous!" Markbaum drank his third glass. "Boss, am I dreaming? Mr. Bird said he saw a bit of himself in me... Do you think I could become a star?" "Buddy, as long as it keeps going up, I lose tens of millions more every quarter! I've put my entire fortune into this, and the pressure's crushing me. I check the ABX—the subprime mortgage-backed securities price index—several times a day, but it just keeps rising! I don't know if those people are crazy. The housing market's obviously a bubble, so why are so many people still eager to trade subprime securities?" Markbaum downed his fourth drink and growled angrily. "Are you all just fighting for second place?" "I believe things are about to turn around." "I'm going to hit the game-winner right here."