After finishing the personnel appointments for the coaching staff, Lin Qi hadn't even had a chance to catch his breath when there was a knock on his office door.
Eddie Jones walked in, dressed in a simple gray tracksuit, and didn't seem particularly relaxed after winning the championship.
He sat down in the chair opposite the desk, remained silent for a moment, and then went straight to the point with his first words. " Lin Qi, there's a rumor in the locker room that the team is going to send Dikembe to Dallas?"
Lin Qi didn't hide anything and nodded. " Dallas will offer Dikembe a long-term contract, which is the decision that best serves the long-term interests of Dikembe and the team."
Jones let out a long sigh, as if making a firm decision, and looked directly at Lin Qi: "Since the team's roster is about to change... Lin Qi, I want to request a trade."
Lin Qi paused, his hand still flipping through the documents. He looked up, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, but quickly regained its composure. He put down his pen and leaned forward slightly. "The reason, Eddie? You've always been the undisputed starting shooting guard."
"I know." Jones gave a wry smile, his eyes filled with complex emotions. " Lin Qi, when we signed that six-year, $70 million extension last summer, I promised you that I would focus all my energy on defense next season. I would give Kevin and the developing Chris Paul the offensive lead. I did it, didn't I?"
Lin Qi nodded. "You did a flawless job. You're one of the best perimeter defenders in the league, and the most indispensable glue in this championship system."
"But I'm not happy." Jones took a deep breath and said frankly, "This has been the most depressing and unhappy year I've had since I was drafted by Boston."
Lin Qi listened quietly without interrupting.
"Don't get me wrong, Lin. I enjoy playing for the Celtics, and I love the Celtics fans. And I'm not against defense; someone has to do the hard work on defense. I'm willing to be a good supporting player. But..." Jones frowned, a hint of pride in his voice as a talented player showing, "But I can't stand the media mocking me in the newspapers every day. They say Boston gave a player who only knows how to defend over ten million dollars a year, they say I have an overpaid contract that only earns ten points per game. Honestly, it makes me very uncomfortable."
He paused, recalling the game from two weeks ago, a glint in his eyes. " In the NBA Finals against the Lakers, I scored thirty-four points. After the game, I sat in the locker room for a long time."
"That game made me realize that I'm only twenty-eight, Lin Qi. I'm still at my peak, I can still score over anyone." Jones looked into Lin Qi's eyes, his tone becoming extremely sincere. "I already have two championship rings. I know that if I stay, even if I only take five shots a night and focus on shutting down the opposing team's perimeter playmaker, we might even have a chance to win a three-peat next year. That would be a great achievement."
"But I'm still young." Jones crossed his arms. "Before my prime is completely over, I want to go to a team, a team that truly treats me as the core. A core that gets the ball to me every night. I want to have fifteen, even twenty, shot attempts. I want them to see that I'm not just the defensive workhorse they call a ten-point-per-game player."
He paused for a moment, as if weighing the weight of his next words.
"I also want to see where my limits truly lie. If I don't know the Answer, I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
His tone remained calm, devoid of indignation or resentment, simply stating a decision he had already made up his mind. His hands were always crossed, his thumbs sometimes touching, sometimes rubbing the knuckles of his other hand... as if measuring something, or perhaps comforting himself.
Lin Qi looked at this hero who had dedicated the best years of his youth to Boston, but did not speak immediately.
In this brutal business league, Eddie Jones is a true professional player. He didn't throw a tantrum mid-season because of his reduced role in the team's tactics, nor did he utter a single complaint in front of the media. He endured the huge drop in performance and perfectly executed all the coaching staff's tasks until he helped Boston win the championship trophy. Only then did he sit here honestly and express his demands.
"I understand, Eddie." Lin Qi finally broke the silence. He leaned back in his chair, and a rare hint of sadness appeared in his eyes, which always exuded shrewdness and composure.
"Back in 1994, when I called your name in the ninth overall pick, you were still a slightly green, skinny tall guy." Lin Qi's voice lowered, tinged with nostalgia. "For the past six years, you've been the most reliable and dependable guy on the team. No matter what difficulties we faced, you never complained once."
Lin Qi looked directly into Jones ' eyes, his tone filled with undisguised regret. "To be honest, Eddie, it really bothers me to think we have to trade you. Last summer, when I handed you that six-year contract, my real thought was that you would wear that green jersey for the rest of your life and play in Boston until you retire."
Hearing this, Jones ' eyes reddened slightly. He lowered his head, his hands clenched tightly together, and remained silent for a long time before speaking in a slightly hoarse voice, "I'm sorry, Lin Qi... This wasn't an impulsive decision; it's the result of careful consideration. I have to make this decision for the sake of my career."
"No need to apologize." Lin Qi sat up straight again, suppressing his sadness and regaining his general manager's seriousness. "I've seen the sacrifices you've made for Boston. You deserve a team that considers you its core player."
Upon hearing that Lin Qi hadn't used the contract to exert pressure, Jones visibly relaxed.
"Go back and have a good vacation. Leave everything to me." Lin Qi picked up the pen on the table and wrote Jones's name on a blank sheet of paper. "I'll have the front office contact teams that lack a key wing player. I promise, I'll send you somewhere where you can rediscover your offensive talent."
"Thank you, Lin Qi." Jones stood up, a relieved smile finally appearing on his face. "Really."
Just as Jones turned to open the office door, Lin Qi suddenly called out to him.
Eddie.
Jones turned around.
Lin Qi looked at him, his tone incredibly serious. "When you get tired of playing outside, or when you reach the end of your career... would you be willing to return to Boston to retire?"
Jones paused for a moment, then his eyes welled up with tears. He nodded vigorously and gave Lin Qi an incredibly bright smile.
"Of course. This will always be my home."
Boston will always be grateful for your contributions, Eddie. Good luck.
Watching the office door close again, Lin Qi turned his gaze back to the notebook on the desk.
The Mutombo trade is still in full swing, and now the team's starting shooting guard is leaving. This team, which just won two consecutive championships, will soon face a complete overhaul of more than half of its starting lineup.
But for Lin Qi, this was by no means a crisis.
Mutombo and Jones are two high-value assets in the current trade market. If managed properly, Boston will not only avoid a gap in immediate competitiveness, but will also be able to extend the team's championship window indefinitely with the assets acquired in these two blockbuster trades.
Of course, this is also a dignified win-win situation. Both players who have made great contributions to Boston will be able to pursue what they truly desire... Dikembe will receive the last big contract of his career, while Eddie Jones will move to a new stage and obtain the core position of the team he has always dreamed of.