On the second floor of the Olympia Milan is a private office with excellent soundproofing.
Standing in front of the one-way glass here, you can get a perfect view of the entire first-floor training hall, while you can't hear a single sound from inside.
Lin Qi stood by the window, watching Parish downstairs meticulously correcting Tyson Chandler Chandler's positioning. The office door was gently pushed open, and EBA CEO Maurizio Gherardini walked in carrying a document.
This office is the core restricted area of the training facility; no coach or player is allowed to approach it without Lin Qi's permission. After all, the upcoming conversation involves the commercial transformation of Europe's underlying basketball infrastructure, which is extremely sensitive.
"Boss," Gherardini, walking to his desk with a hint of exasperation in his voice, " Sky Sports ' weekend primetime slots are fully booked for the new season, but the stadium renovation project has run into some trouble. Real Madrid and Barcelona are progressing smoothly, but Athens, Belgrade, and some smaller clubs are refusing to let the league-designated Ireland contractor work on the pitches."
Lin Qi turned around, walked to the sofa, and sat down. "What's the reason?"
"They said those old arenas have witnessed decades of their history, and fans have an emotional attachment to the old floors. Replacing them all would provoke protests from local fans."
"Feelings?" Lin Qi's lips curled into a faint sneer. He gestured to the chair opposite the desk, indicating for Gherardini to sit down. " Maurizio, in the context of professional sports, when you hear a club executive talking to you about 'tradition and feelings,' it usually translates to just two words... lack of money."
Gherardini paused for a moment, then nodded with a wry smile.
" Europe doesn't lack top-notch infrastructure technology." Lin Qi picked up his soda and calmly analyzed the pain points of Europe basketball. " Germany's DIN standard sports wood flooring, in terms of impact absorption and rebound rate, is fully up to NBA standards. The reason why those small and medium-sized teams cling to their yellowed old floors isn't because they're nostalgic, but because installing a top-of-the-line high-performance solid wood flooring system costs hundreds of thousands of dollars. They simply can't afford that, so they can only use 'tradition' as a fig leaf."
Lin Qi looked at Gherardini, his tone becoming serious. "But since we've taken the 120 million euros broadcasting fee from Sky Sports, we can't let viewers see a dilapidated arena on TV that can't even be evenly lit and can only hold three or four thousand people."
He paused, then presented a very realistic comparison.
"Do you know how much Mark Cuban spent on the new American Airlines Center in Dallas? $430 million. In their locker rooms, every wooden wardrobe has a 13-inch flat-screen TV and a PS game console embedded in it; in their rehabilitation center, there are not only top-of-the-line physical therapy beds, but even underwater treadmills. In comparison, our EBA, without fundamental hardware upgrades, will always be second-rate in terms of commercial products."
"However, smaller teams simply can't afford this renovation budget," Gherardini said, looking troubled.
"They don't have the money, but the league does. Or rather, they get contractors to advance the funds."
Lin Qi offered an irrefutable solution. "Notify the clubs that the cost of this hardware upgrade will be initially covered by a special fund set up by the league, and then deducted in installments from their television broadcasting revenue over the next three years. As for their desire for 'traditional sentiment,' tell the construction team to make all the surface flooring in a retro style that matches their traditional aesthetic, maintaining a visually dignified sense of history, while the subfloor must meet the league's requirements for flooring."
"I understand, boss. If the alliance provides the funding, those obstacles will disappear instantly." Gherardini closed the folder and stood up. "I'll send them the official letter right away."
Watching Gherardini leave the office and close the door, Lin Qi stood up again, walked to his desk, and opened the locked drawer.
He took out a cell phone specifically for clandestine communication. The phone contained an anonymous SIM card registered in Dublin, Ireland.
After skillfully dialing an overseas number, the phone rang three times before being answered.
"Boss," Patrick Finneran's voice came through the receiver, with a faint hum of the air conditioner in the background, "It should be morning in Milan, right? It's almost dinnertime here."
"The resistance in Athens has been resolved. I'll have the EBA League directly subsidize it from their accounts; your construction team just needs to get started and lay the flooring." Lin Qi sat down in his leather office chair, his tone amiable. "Where are you now?"
" America, State of Arizona, Phoenix." Patrick clicked his tongue on the other end and complained, "The desert climate here is awful. Even in August, walking on the street feels like being stuffed into an oven."
"Are United States easier to get along with than Europe?" Lin Qi chuckled.
"Surprisingly easy to get along with." Patrick's tone became lighter, revealing the shrewdness typical of a businessman. "Yesterday afternoon, Mr. Jerry Colangelo and I watched a baseball game together in the VIP box at Bank One Ballpark. I must say, the atmosphere for these kinds of sporting events in the United States is truly lively; that stadium is practically a palace."
How did the chat go?
"Very well. Mr. Colangelo is a very passionate sportsman, but financially he's not doing so well right now," Patrick reported. "His Diamondbacks are indeed a strong contender for the championship this year, but the salary expenses for those ace pitchers are already approaching $80 million. Add to that the land he owns in the downtown area, and the monthly bank interest is suffocating him."
This is exactly as Lin Qi predicted. Although Colangelo's sports empire looks glamorous on the surface, his cash flow is already stretched to the limit.
"So, what is his attitude towards the inclusion of Europe capital?" Lin Qi asked.
"He treated me like a savior sent by God," Patrick couldn't help but laugh. "An Ireland real estate businessman with a ton of cash, only interested in rental returns from commercial real estate, and who couldn't even understand the rules of baseball. I told him I'd only invest in a stake in the commercial plaza next to the stadium and wouldn't interfere with the operation of any of his teams."
"He not only agreed to the joint development proposal, but also proactively invited us to inspect a new plot of land near the Suns' home arena next month."
United States are clearly much more pragmatic. As long as your money is clean enough and doesn't threaten the other party's control, there's almost no resistance to cooperation.
"Well done, Patrick." Lin Qi glanced at a briefing on the national macro interest rate trends on his desk, his tone calm. "Then inject the funds. Help him turn those blueprints into a real commercial district, and alleviate his current financial pressure."
"Do we need to speed things up and further penetrate his team's debt?" Patrick asked tentatively.
"No need, take your time." Lin Qi leaned back in his chair, his voice calm and confident. "Maintain your ' Europe tycoon' persona, and become his friend and partner."
"I understand, boss." Patrick understood. "For now, I'll stay in State of Arizona and be a law-abiding real estate businessman."