The next morning, the sky over Boston was overcast with low clouds, and a light drizzle of freezing rain pattered against the glass facade of the New Garden.
The entire city's sports radio and newspapers were shrouded in an almost tragic mood. At 10 a. m., the Celtics held a brief press conference at their training facility. The team doctor solemnly presented the MRI and detailed examination report: Ron Artest suffered a mild concussion, accompanied by extensive soft tissue contusions on his back, which had triggered the league's concussion protocol.
This means that Artest will be suspended for the upcoming Game 5, a do-or-die game, and will definitely be unable to play.
At Lin Qi's residence on the outskirts of the city, Lin Qi pressed the power button on the remote control, and the press conference image on the television screen instantly went dark.
Silence returned to the room. He was now unable to enter the locker room, go to the training hall, or even have any communication with the coaching staff during the game. He was trapped here like an ordinary spectator, his mind frantically running through all the backup plans.
With Artest gone, who will guard Michael Jordan?
Lin Qi rubbed his temples wearily.
Should we put Gerald Wallace or Tayshaun Prince in?
Physically, both young men have long wingspans and excellent athleticism, making them ideal candidates to defend the frontcourt's key players. Even if they lack experience, it would be good to give them a try and wear down Jordan's stamina.
But as soon as the thought popped into his head, Lin Qi froze.
In his "future vision," Gerald and Prince are both renowned defensive stalwarts in the future league.
But he had no idea what level these two young men had reached at this moment. Facing the suffocating pressure of the NBA Finals, would their defensive rotations falter? Would their physical strength be up to par? Could they withstand Jordan's cunning and skillful feints?
Basketball is not a video game; you can't just look at potential stats. Throwing two rookies who haven't even fully adapted to the regular season rotation into the NBA Finals to match up against Jordan is practically gambling with their lives. This shows that, subconsciously, he's still relying on "precognition" and is detached from the team's true situation.
What about Raja Bell?
Lin Qi thought back for a moment. Last year, Rick Carlisle had tried having Bell guard Jordan, but it was very ineffective. Bell was tough enough and his defensive intentions were impeccable, but his height and weight were a factor. If Bell were to guard Jordan, Jordan wouldn't need to use any complicated techniques. He could simply back down and use his weight to overpower the defender. Bell would hardly even have a chance to reach out and interfere with the shot's view.
Dwyane Wade?
Lin Qi shook his head, immediately dismissing the idea. Wade's defensive awareness and wingspan were indeed outstanding, but he was, after all, a rookie. Moreover, Wade needed to shoulder a large amount of the responsibility of driving to the basket and scoring.
After much deliberation, Lin Qi realized with dismay that no matter who filled that void, they couldn't achieve the same effect as Artest.
Ron's solid build, tireless defensive passion, and fearless, madcap-like charisma, like a New York street thug, make him the irreplaceable soul of this team's defensive system. No backup plan can perfectly replace him.
Trailing 1-3.
As the architect of this team, he was isolated off the field at this crucial moment when he needed a leader the most. A jumble of thoughts and a deep sense of powerlessness entwined him like vines, making him feel restless.
"If you keep frowning like that, you might be on the front page of the Boston newspaper tomorrow... ' Celtics owner goes bald prematurely due to excessive worry.'"
A gentle female voice, tinged with a hint of languor and playfulness, sounded from behind.
His fiancée Beth Finneran, dressed in a soft beige loungewear, walked silently onto the carpet. She carried two steaming cups of coffee, handed one to Lin Qi, and naturally nestled into his arms.
"Double espresso." Beth tilted her head back, looking at Lin Qi's somewhat tired profile, and gently smoothed the furrows between his brows. "What's wrong? Still thinking about the team?"
Lin Qi wrapped one arm around her slender waist, took the coffee, and took a big gulp. The bitter liquid flowed down his throat, but the warmth and softness of the woman in his arms calmed his restless emotions considerably.
"Thinking about it is useless." Lin Qi chuckled self-deprecatingly. "That old man Stern's suspension was ruthless. I don't even have the right to pick up the phone and call Rick now. If there's even the slightest suspicion of interfering in the game, a hefty fine from the league will be on my desk tomorrow."
"How about we talk about something that will lift your spirits? To clear your head?" Beth blinked, like a cunning fox, and with her free hand, she pulled a folded report from the pocket of her loungewear.
"What could be more important than being down 1-3 in the NBA Finals?" Lin Qi raised an eyebrow.
"About that ' Germany cat' you've been keeping an eye on." Beth turned around, leaning against Lin Qi's chest, and held the briefing up to his face. "A report from Lin Qi Capital's M&A team in Frankfurt, sent just half an hour ago."
Upon hearing this, Lin Qi's gaze sharpened instantly. He quickly scanned the information on the paper, and the helplessness he had felt from not being able to control the team was replaced by the excitement of seeing prey fall into the net.
"So fast?" Lin Qi whispered in Beth's ear, his voice filled with undisguised surprise. "I thought those stubborn Germany would drag things out with us for a month or two."
"This is all thanks to your keen intuition," Beth said with a smile, tilting her head slightly as her lips brushed against Lin Qi's chin. "That once-in-a-lifetime window on June 2nd was practically a gift from God. Puma's largest United States media shareholder, in order to cash out, sold off nearly 40% of its shares through Goldman Sachs in one go. At 86 euros per share, a clearance sale."
"Those idiots drove Puma's stock price into a deep trough." Lin Qi picked up the conversation, his arm around Beth's waist tightening unconsciously.
"Exactly." Beth felt his strength, her tone tinged with a playful, self-satisfied air. "From June 2nd to today, these past ten days or so, taking advantage of the market panic, I had over a dozen offshore shell companies deployed in Frankfurt. We've been swallowing up all the scattered chips on the secondary market, bit by bit."
"Let's be frank, boss lady," Lin Qi said, lowering his head and kissing her forehead. "How many chips do we have in our hands right now?"
"Including the shares bought at the low point, it's 41.5%." Beth turned around and wrapped her arms around Lin Qi's neck. "With the largest shareholder gone, this is the first time since Puma was founded that no one has absolute control. Puma is now a wild beast without a master, and no one can stop this acquisition."
What is the success rate of the subsequent merger and acquisition assessment?
"Over 85%," Beth said softly. "If we formally submit a full takeover offer now, Puma's board of directors simply won't be able to mount any effective resistance. But... I'm a little curious, why do you insist on buying a Germany brand?"
It can't be explained in just a sentence or two.
Lin Qi held his coffee cup, took a sip, and didn't launch into a long explanation to his fiancée.
AEK Athens, Olympia Milan, Real Madrid, Panathinaikos... Europe basketball is on the rise, but they lack a unified and highly commercialized package.
EBA needed an official partner, a sports brand with pure Europe roots and a well-established sales network throughout Europe. This is why Lin Qi was determined to acquire Puma. He needed to make Puma the official equipment sponsor for basketball across Europe.
In North America, Converse secured its place in the NBA, while in Europe, Puma monopolized the official sponsorship of the EBA.
Lin Qi put down his cup, cupped Beth's cheeks in his hands, and gently pecked her lips.
Beth looked at his confident yet mysterious demeanor, smiled helplessly, and shook her head, not pressing him further about the tedious business plans.
"Fine, I'm not really interested in knowing either." Beth leaned against Lin Qi's chest, her fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. Her tone shifted, carrying a hint of motherly reproach, "Couldn't you spare some energy to manage your two overly energetic sons?"
"What happened to them again?" Lin Qi's voice softened when he heard about the two little ones.
"What happened?" Beth sighed. "This morning, Dabao spread his oatmeal evenly all over the living room carpet. Xiaobao was even worse; he tried to climb up the bookshelf and almost pulled down all your treasured Auerbach the Cardinal videotapes. The nanny just complained to me that their destructive tendencies are completely beyond what you'd expect for their age."
"Thank you for your hard work, darling," Lin Qi chuckled softly, ruffling Beth's hair. "After this NBA Finals, I promise I'll take you to Hawaii or the Bahamas for half a month, and I'll be in charge of changing those two little devils' diapers every day."
"You said it yourself, don't forget!" Beth chuckled, patting his chest and stepping out of his arms. "I'm going to the nursery to see if they've woken up from their nap. Don't frown so much, you can't seem to smooth it out."
Lin Qi smiled and watched Beth turn and walk towards the nursery at the back of the corridor.
Hearing the faint sounds coming from not far away, the anxiety he felt from being unable to interfere with the game subsided.