In Los Angeles, in the block beside the Lakers' training facility, Jerry West sat in his office chair, watching the Lakers-Warriors game.
When Kobe and Latrell Sprewell both clutched their legs and rolled to the floor, West shot to his feet in alarm. Only after seeing that Kobe was not seriously hurt did he sit back down.
"That kid." West watched the replay and caught Kobe's little trick, unable to help smiling. It was the first time he had seen such a slippery rookie. Being able to protect himself was definitely the best thing. God bless Sprewell—hopefully he would be all right too.
"Ring, ring. Ring, ring." The phone on the office desk began to ring.
"Hello."
"Mr. West, sorry to disturb you. I'm David, Robert Horry's agent." A guileless middle-aged man's voice came through the phone.
"Good evening, sir." West was somewhat surprised.
"Mr. West, my client wants to leave the Suns. He wants to team up with Shaq and Kobe." The voice on the other end was a little subdued.
"That would be wonderful. Horry is a very good player, the championship piece our team badly needs. I'll work on making it happen." West was delighted. He had already been preparing to trade for Horry, but he had never expected the man himself to come knocking.
"Mr. West, you know my client's contract expires this year. We want to find a team that can offer a long-term deal."
"How about six years, thirty million?"
"Mr. West, are you serious? Damn, I'll push this trade through immediately." West's lavish offer thrilled Horry's agent. That salary was far beyond what a role player could normally get, and his cut from it would be enormous. Even if Horry did not want to join the Lakers now, he would make this trade