On the eve of the draft night, the phone on Lin Qi's desk kept ringing.
All the calls were inquiring about Robert Horry's prices.
The reason is simple. In the recent NBA Finals, all the general managers in the league were sitting in front of their TVs watching NBA Finals 6. In the third quarter, Boston hit three three-pointers in eighty seconds. The one who made those shots was Robert Horry.
It wasn't until after that night that many general managers suddenly realized something terrifying: this man already had three championship rings on his hands.
Two of those were in Houston with Hakeem Olajuwon, and the most recent one was in Boston. He was never the star player of any team, but every team he played for eventually won the O'Brien Trophy. He could switch on defense for several positions and, in crucial moments, sink that three-pointer that made everyone on the court tremble.
Every team that considers itself in the title race window is missing this one player.
And you won't find another person like that on the free market and trading floor of the entire league.
As a result, Lin Qi's office phone was ringing off the hook.
Each quote seemed more sincere and more urgent than the last.
With each phone call that ended, the chips on that piece of paper rose one level higher, fueled by anxiety. A first-round pick became a first-round plus second-round pick, a second-round pick became a promising rookie, and a young player became two second-round picks.
He neither bid nor refused.
That's how a seller's market works. The more people wear down the threshold, the more relaxed the person sitting behind the table becomes.
Lin Qi was finally swayed when he heard Salt Lake City's offer.
Utah Jazz general manager Scott Layden skipped all the small talk the moment he opened his mouth.
"Two first-round picks," Layden's voice was hoarse, "The 18th and 23rd picks this year. In exchange for Robert Horry."
Lin Qi held the microphone but did not respond immediately.
This price has already crushed all the competitors at the table.
Only the Utah Jazz managed to acquire two first-round picks.
Lin Qi knew better than anyone why this was the case.
Carl Malone is almost 36. John Stockton is 37. These two old guys played pick-and-roll together for over a decade, making it to the NBA Finals twice, losing to Michael Jordan both times, and going home empty-handed both times.
Now that Jordan has retired, the throne of the league is empty.
This is their last window of opportunity, and they know it perfectly well... these are the last few years left.
Salt Lake City's three first-round picks were all in the mid-to-late stages of the first round. For a rebuilding team, those were three promising lottery tickets. But for Malone and Stockton, they were just three worthless pieces of paper that couldn't be cashed in... By the time those rookies have grown up and learned to play in the playoffs, these two old guys' jerseys will long be hanging in the rafters of the arena.
They don't need any damn future.
They need someone who can help them defend the opposing team's star player in the Western Conference semifinals next year, and then sink that corner three-pointer that Malone passed to them in a desperate situation.
And on the entire market shelf, only Horry was available—this life-saving drug.
So while others were still testing the waters with one first-round pick, the Utah Jazz went straight for two.
This is indeed a slight premium, but they have no other choice.
"I'm going to take Horry." Layden's voice was resolute and even a little forceful. " Lin Qi, just say it, is it or not?"
"Deal," Lin Qi answered crisply.
A long, relieved sigh came clearly from the other end of the phone.
"However..." Lin Qi changed the subject, his tone suddenly softening, "Your straightforwardness makes me look like I'm being greedy."
Layden paused for a moment.
"Trading two first-round picks for a clutch Mr. Clutch with three championships is a winning trade from a basketball perspective," Lin Qi said. "But I don't want Salt Lake City to feel like Boston is taking advantage of their situation."
I'll give you some more cash compensation.
"... You..." Layden stammered for a long time before finally squeezing out the words, his tone a mix of admiration and exasperation, "You've taken full advantage of me, and now you expect me to be indebted to you."
"It's just a mutually beneficial arrangement," Lin Qi smiled. "Pleasant cooperation."
"Make a deal."
My fingertips tapped lightly on the table. The call ended.
The room fell silent instantly. Lin Qi picked up the sheet of paper filled with offers from the table and glanced at it one last time. The list of offers for Horry's team filled most of the sheet.
Then, he crumpled the paper into a ball and casually tossed it into the wastebasket.
Lin Qi could almost picture it word for word how the Boston media would bombard him with headlines tomorrow.
First, they traded a third overall pick and two NBA Finals defensive heroes for Rasheed Wallace, a troublemaker who clashed with the head coach in Portland. Now, they've traded Robert Horry... the Mr. Clutch who sealed the NBA Finals with three three-pointers, for two draft picks.
In just one summer, the championship-winning team that had just lifted the trophy was completely dismantled.
Brown left, Outlaw left, and now even Horry has left.
Any well-dressed commentator watching these two moves would come to the same conclusion on television, with a heavy heart: Boston's management is destroying its own foundation.
Indeed, Brown, Outlaw, and Horry are good players and excellent pieces for a championship run.
But the most fatal flaw in these puzzle pieces, besides their age, is their ever-increasing salaries.
Horry is 28, Brown is 29, and Outlaw is 27. Keeping them all would indeed give Boston a chance to contend for the championship with their current roster, and a high probability of defending their title. But what would the cost be?
Next year and the year after, when the contracts of these championship heroes expire, general managers across the league will be like Shark smelling blood, waving their checkbooks to poach players with high prices. In order to retain the so-called "championship core," Boston is destined to be forced to swallow several seriously overpriced mid-level contracts.
It's not that Lin Qi can't afford the money. The real problem is that once the team's salary cap is filled with these overpriced mid-level contracts, Boston will completely lose its room for maneuver in the trade market the Admiral the next few years, turning into a bloated and rigid dinosaur.
Although there is no punitive luxury tax yet, as a time traveler with a god-like perspective, Lin Qi knows better than anyone that the sword of Damocles hanging over all the teams will fall sooner or later.
Ultimately, this is a cruel math problem.
After the lockout, Garnett signed a 6-year, $71 million contract, which is almost half of his previous historical trajectory, making it an extremely valuable salary bonus.
Rasheed Wallace, acquired in a new trade, had already signed a six-year, nearly $80 million contract with the Trail Blazers before the lockout, meaning he would play until 2004. Although the contract was expensive, it also meant that at least until 2004, Boston had completely locked up the peak of this All-Star caliber center, without having to worry about his contract renewal or external price increases.
On the other hand, if Brown, Outlaw, and Horry, these three role players with championship auras, were to test the free agent market, the total value of their contract extensions could easily exceed Rasheed Wallace's contract.
Lin Qi knew very well that 1999 was a watershed year.
Starting this year, rookie contracts have been strictly limited to four years. More importantly, after the four-year contract expires, teams can keep the player by making a qualifying offer, turning him into a restricted free agent... This is exactly the loophole that the league specifically plugged after the Magic watched O'Neal run away.
Before that, small-market teams would painstakingly develop a star player, only to have him leave once his contract expired. But starting in 1999, if you drafted them in the first round, these young players would be firmly bound to the team's machine by the rules, playing for eight or nine years.
To build a true dynasty in this league, simply spending big money to buy immediate contributors won't cut it. Teams must fully capitalize on the rookie bonus of these four years, holding onto these cheap and valuable young players, and then, like a snowball rolling downhill, continuously circulate and increase the value of their assets, turning them into long-term assets.
This is the only long-term solution.
Lin Qi picked up the cup of coffee on the table, which had long since gone cold, and downed it in one gulp. The bitter liquid made him even more alert.
He muttered to himself softly in the empty office.
"Draft night is almost here."
[Transaction Summary]
Boston Celtics traded:
Robert Horry
Full cash compensation
Received from the Utah Jazz:
1999 first round, 18th overall pick
23rd overall pick in the first round of the 1999 NBA draft
The Celtics had a first-round pick before the 1999 NBA draft.
1999 first round, 18th overall pick
23rd overall pick in the first round of the 1999 NBA draft
29th overall pick in the first round of the 1999 NBA draft