"Mr. Larry Bird, I would like to invite you back to Boston."
There was a two-second silence on the other end of the phone.
"Advisor, head coach—you choose." Lin Qi placed the cards directly on the table. "As long as you nod, the Celtics ' doors are always open for you."
But what came from the other end of the phone was a slow, leisurely laugh.
"Kid, you've got a silver tongue, even better than the newspapers say. Too bad this won't work out."
"Why?" Lin Qi asked.
"Two reasons," Larry Bird said crisply. "First, I'm Indiana, my roots are in my hometown. If I ever get bored and want to come back and try something new, I'll consider the Pacers first. Donnie Walsh is my buddy, and if he asks, I can't refuse."
Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat. Donnie Walsh, the Pacers ' undisputed leader.
"And the second one?" Lin Qi pressed.
"Secondly, you're a smart man, so I don't need to spell things out for you." Larry Bird chuckled faintly, a hint of displeasure in his voice. "I love that jersey, I'll love it forever. But some of the people sitting in that office building in Boston right now are a completely different matter. Understand?"
Lin Qi fell silent. Of course he understood; this wasn't about money or position. It was about a man who had been proud his whole life and didn't want to go back to the place that had once made him feel awkward and hurt.
"Understood." Lin Qi didn't press the matter further, obediently taking a step back. "I was presumptuous, Mr. Larry Bird."
The person on the other end of the phone seemed somewhat surprised by his decisiveness, their tone softening slightly. "... You're not one to dawdle."
"However," Lin Qi changed the subject, naturally revealing his true purpose, "Since returning is inconvenient, let me ask you about something else."
"Speak."
"I have a twenty-year-old kid in my hands, Kevin Garnett," Lin Qi said.
"Yeah," Larry Bird responded, "That youngest All-Star tonight. Long arms and legs, really talented."
"But his offense is still a mess," Lin Qi bluntly stated. "He can pass, drive, and shoot, but it's all instinct, completely disorganized. I want to find him a mentor who truly understands offense, someone to break down and refine his talent. Adelman has to manage the whole team; he can't focus on just him. Mr. Larry Bird, you've watched basketball your whole life; who in the entire league is best suited for this job?"
Silence fell again on the other end of the phone, Lin Qi could tell that Larry Bird was really thinking things through.
After a long while, the hoarse voice rang out again. " Chris Paul Westphal."
Lin Qi was taken aback; the name was indeed unexpected. He had originally thought Larry Bird would submit a younger, more popular assistant coach's name.
"What?" Larry Bird sensed his hesitation. "You didn't expect it to be him?"
Lin Qi instinctively asked the name that was on his mind, "I'm actually... considering Rick Carlisle."
There was an eerie silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds. Then, Larry Bird's tone completely changed, no longer the nonchalant one, but carrying an undisguised warning.
" Rick Carlisle's got some good stuff, but don't even think about that kid," Larry Bird said, emphasizing each word. "My old back needs some rest, but it'll get busy eventually. If I ever go back to leading a team, I'll bring Rick Carlisle along. He's a good friend of mine, one of my men."
Lin Qi's heart skipped a beat, then he gave a wry smile. This old fox, ostensibly a recommender, was secretly using the opportunity to first secure his future coaching staff, effectively extinguishing Lin Qi's hopes with a single sentence.
"I understand." Lin Qi rubbed his temples somewhat helplessly. "I'm not considering Rick Carlisle anymore. So, back to Westphal, do you really think he's suitable?"
"Perfect, absolutely perfect." Larry Bird's tone turned serious when discussing tactics. "You need to find a genius to teach offense, Chris Paul's mind is one of the best in the league. Have you forgotten how he led the Suns to the NBA Finals? That guy was a genius when he played. Let him teach Garnett how to play with his brain; nobody's more suitable than him."
Lin Qi's eyes lit up, but then he was troubled. "Mr. Larry Bird, Westphal is a renowned coach who has led his team to the NBA Finals. Wouldn't it be a waste of his talent to ask him to be a special advisor to a twenty-year-old? Would he even agree?"
On the other end of the phone, Larry Bird even laughed out loud, "You're not well-informed, kid. Chris Paul just got fired from the Suns last year and is currently unemployed. What does a newly fired head coach lack most? A springboard to get back on his feet. If he goes to your team and revitalizes Garnett's offense, and helps you have a great season, his resume will be clean again, right? Then a proper head coach contract will naturally come knocking on his door. This isn't a waste of talent; it's a win-win situation."
Lin Qi finally understood; this wasn't charity, it was a timely help. He immediately seized the opportunity. "Then... Mr. Larry Bird, could you make a phone call and introduce me?"
"I'm not helping you with this." Larry Bird refused with unusual decisiveness. " Chris Paul's got a lot of pride. It would sound like I'm doing him a favor, calling a retired old man like myself, lying in my hometown having surgery, to ask him to be a sparring partner for some greenhorn. If I were to help you, it would only make things worse."
Just as Lin Qi frowned, Larry Bird's voice took a turn.
"However, I'll give you a suggestion. Go find someone— John Havlicek."
Lin Qi's breath hitched slightly. "The master thief" Havlicek, a living fossil of the Boston Dynasty.
"You probably don't know, but Chris Paul Westphal started his playing career in Boston, and he won a championship with us in 1974." Larry Bird's tone carried a hint of nostalgia. "Back then, he was still young, and the person he respected and trusted most on the team was John. Even though he was later traded to the Suns, his relationship with John never ended. You have John call Chris Paul, asking him to come back and lend a hand as the older brother figure. Chris Paul will definitely give him that courtesy."
Lin Qi leaned back on the sofa and let out a long sigh of relief.
He finally figured out the meaning behind Larry Bird's whole argument. Larry Bird declined to come out of retirement to protect Rick Carlisle, but in the end, this stubborn old man from Indiana still cherished the old feelings for that jersey. He didn't show up himself, but handed over the safest, most dignified, and most humane path to Lin Qi.
Imagine sending an old Celtics to call home another wanderer who still longs for the Boston Celtics to help.
Seamless.
"Thank you, Mr. Larry Bird." This time, Lin Qi's tone truly carried respect for the legend.
"Why thank me? I didn't do anything." Larry Bird's voice remained indifferent, but before hanging up, he suddenly added out of the blue, "That kid... Garnett, interesting. He reminds me of something. Don't rub it in. Alright, the ceremony's almost over, I'm going to watch the game."
Beep beep beep.
The call ended abruptly, without a single unnecessary farewell. Lin Qi held the receiver, listening to the dial tone, stunned for a moment, then suddenly burst out laughing.
During the second half of the All-Star game, Lin Qi wasted not a second. He directly contacted John Havlicek, who had long since distanced himself from the limelight, through management channels that very night. When Lin Qi explained his purpose—to invite Chris Paul Westphal back to Boston to specifically develop Garnett's offense—the "thief" on the other end of the phone laughed heartily.
" Chris Paul, that kid... okay, I'll make the call for you. If he knew Boston needed him to help a talented young man, he definitely wouldn't refuse."
Things went more smoothly than I expected.
A few days later, amidst the lingering buzz of All-Star Weekend, a piece of news, neither big nor small, quietly appeared in the corner of the sports section of a major Boston newspaper.
"Old Celtics Returns Home: Chris Paul Westphal Appointed Special Offensive Advisor for the Celtics."
The media and fans mostly viewed this as a heartwarming and nostalgic gesture, a retired coach returning to his old club to contribute his remaining energy.
No one knew that behind this seemingly ordinary signing lay Larry Bird Larry Bird's shrewd phone call that revealed the depths of human nature and the overall situation, Havlicek's brotherhood spanning over two decades, and Lin Qi's quiet laying of yet another cornerstone leading to the summit for that twenty-year-old.
Lin Qi stood by the window of the general manager's office, looking at the photo of Westphal in the newspaper, now looking radiant again, but his mind was filled with the unfinished words Larry Bird had spoken on the phone.
That child reminds me of something.
Before Lin Qi could figure out what those words meant, the private phone on his desk rang shrilly again.
Caller ID: Harvey Weinstein.
Lin Qi rubbed his temples, answered the phone, and immediately heard the fat man's impatient, heavy breathing on the other end.
"Lin! The Oscar nominations are in! Good Will Hunting has garnered a whopping nine nominations! We're off to Los Angeles to claim our share!"