September 5, Boston, Celtics Auerbach Training Center.
In the tactics room, the players, who had just finished their Europe tour, were still savoring the glory of their 13-game winning streak, and the atmosphere was relatively relaxed.
Lin Qi pushed open the door and entered, without a smile. He walked to the tactics board and looked around at the group of young winners.
"Guys, first of all, congratulations on your outstanding performance in Europe. A 13-game winning streak has proven Boston's strength to the world."
The applause was sporadic, but it stopped quickly because Lin Qi's expression was very serious.
"But," Lin Qi said, his hands gripping the podium, his voice lowering, "The holiday is over, and training camp is about to begin. Before you all refocus on the court, I have a new team rule to announce."
The players exchanged glances, and the meeting room fell silent.
"From today until the end of the last game of the season, all players are strictly prohibited from being in any nightclubs, bars, or other entertainment venues after 10 PM on weekdays. Weekends are allowed for some relaxation, but players must be home by 2 AM."
"First offense: $50,000 fine. Second offense: $100,000. Third offense: Indefinite suspension."
The tactics room was deathly silent.
Chris Paul Pierce frowned and was the first to raise his hand to break the silence. "Lin, this sounds too harsh. We're adults; where we go should be our private matter as long as it doesn't affect training and matches."
" Chris Paul, you're all adults," Lin Qi said, staring at him sternly, "But you're also professional athletes earning millions a year. The Boston team, the fans, the sponsors—they're not paying you to cause trouble in nightclubs."
"Nightclubs are complex environments, with alcohol, contraband, and all sorts of people—these are all uncontrollable risks. I don't want to see any Celtics player's performance affected by off-court issues, or cause any scandals."
Artest muttered, somewhat unconvinced, "Many NBA players go to nightclubs; it's normal socializing..."
"I don't care what other teams do!" Lin Qi interrupted him. "This is Boston. What made us win the championship last season? Because you were more focused and disciplined than anyone else. If anyone feels they've won enough championships and wants to enjoy some so-called off-court life, feel free to tell me."
Garnett was the first to stand up, and he stated earnestly, "I fully support this rule. Off-court issues will only drag the whole team down."
Gary Payton nodded, looking around at the young men. "Listen, I've been in this league for over a decade and have seen too many talented players ruin their careers because of off-court issues."
Rasheed Wallace stood up from the back row and chimed in, "Mr. Lin is right. During my years in Portland, I saw too many people get into trouble because of nightclubs. Since we're going to defend our title, we should hold ourselves to the standards of a champion."
Pierce glanced at Rasheed with some surprise; he hadn't expected Rasheed to support the ban. Billups, Doug Christie, Ben Wallace, and others nodded silently in agreement.
But the faces of Pierce, Artest, Türkoğlu, and others still betrayed their undisguised resistance.
Lin Qi looked at them. "I know some of you are unhappy, but this is the team's bottom line. If anyone feels they can't tolerate this constraint, they can come to me anytime, and I'll trade them. Meeting adjourned."
After the meeting, in the corridor outside the changing room.
Artest grumbled, "That's too much to ask! We won two consecutive championships, swept through Europe with a 13-game winning streak, and we can't even go for a drink when we get back?"
"Maybe he just wants to set the tone at the start of the season," Türkoğlu tried to smooth things over.
Pierce remained silent, his face grim. He had just won the championship as the team's core player and was at the peak of his career. This ban made him feel that the team completely distrusted him.
Rasheed Wallace walked over and looked at them sternly. "Don't complain behind your backs. Lin is protecting you."
Pierce said with some dissatisfaction, " Rasheed, do you also think we're incapable of even managing ourselves?"
" Chris Paul, I've seen how players like Isiah Riddle ruined themselves," Rasheed said earnestly. "Those exceptionally talented players always think they can control everything, until they get entangled in off-field troubles. Mr. Lin foresaw the risks; don't be ungrateful."
"We're just going to listen to music and have a drink, what danger could there be?" Artest scoffed.
Rasheed sighed helplessly, "That's all I have to say. Don't go looking for trouble."
Over the next two weeks, preseason training proceeded as normal. Most people followed the rules, but rebellious sentiments were secretly growing among the young players.
On September 12, after training, Lin Qi called Pierce into his office alone.
"Sit down, Chris Paul," Lin Qi, getting straight to the point. "I know you're unhappy about the ban."
Pierce sat down and looked directly at Lin Qi: "Mr. Lynch, I just think we have our own judgment."
"You're smart, Chris Paul, but sometimes too confident." Lin Qi looked at him. "Do you know why I gave this death order? Because of Len Bias."
Pierce was stunned. Bias's name was a painful lesson in Celtics history. The second overall pick in 1986 died of a cocaine overdose the day after the draft, at the young age of 22.
" Chris Paul, you're a star in this city now, a millionaire." Lin Qi's tone softened slightly, but remained serious. "Do you think all those people who smile at you in nightclubs are friends? They see a cash cow, something to brag about. What if someone deliberately tries to cause you trouble for fame? I don't want you to ruin your career because of one conflict."
Pierce was silent for a moment. He knew Lin Qi had a point, but a sliver of hope still lingered in his heart.
"Mr. Lin, I understand what you mean. But I'm not a child; I can handle things off-stage."
Looking into Pierce's stubborn eyes, Lin Qi knew there was no point in saying anything more.
"Okay, I won't force you to change your mind. But I hope you remember what I said today, so you don't regret it someday."
On the evening of September 20, Rasheed Wallace hosted a team party at his home.
The veterans left promptly at 10 p. m. But Pierce, Artest, Türkoğlu, Redd, and Billups remained in the living room.
At 11 p. m., Artest received a phone call, then turned to the others and said, "My friend made a reservation at Buzz Club downtown, wanna go?"
Pierce hesitated for a moment, remembering Lin Qi's warning. "Forget it, Lynch's rules..."
"What's there to be afraid of? The worst that can happen is a $50,000 fine, you can afford that," Artest said nonchalantly. "Let's go grab a couple of drinks, be back before one o'clock, no one will know."
Türkoğlu was also somewhat tempted. As a rookie, Redd could only follow the decisions of his seniors.
Rasheed heard the commotion and came over, his brow furrowed. "You're going to a nightclub? Are you crazy?"
" Rasheed, go sit down for a while and relax." Pierce stood up.
Rasheed looked at them, knowing he couldn't stop them. "Since you can't persuade them, I'll warn you one last time... all sorts of people can be found in that kind of place, be careful, and don't cause any trouble."
Finally, at Artest's urging, Billups reluctantly agreed to go along. The five of them drove to the Buzz Club.
In the days that followed, they secretly went to nightclubs twice more without incident, which emboldened them.