David Stern remained completely unmoved by Lin Qi's calm questioning.
"Because at this stage there is no conclusive direct evidence, Lin," Stern said calmly, picking up his water glass. "That conversation two years ago took place in a private box in Chicago, with only Jerry Buss, Phil, Shaq, Kidd, and Michael present. There was no recording, no written memo, and no legally binding official documents. At this stage, it's a private dispute with conflicting accounts. To publicly investigate or even punish a team owner who has made significant contributions to the league's commercial promotion over the past twenty years based solely on one side's story would be procedurally and administratively untenable."
"Different versions of events?" Lin Qi shifted into a more comfortable sitting position, his tone unhurried. " David, if the league office really wants to investigate, they can verify Jerry Buss's private jet flight route application from two years ago, retrieve the reception details from that club on Michigan Avenue, or even just summon Phil Jackson and Jason Kidd separately for internal questioning... The facts aren't hard to reconstruct. Michael wrote down the time, place, and even every word spoken by the participants in his complaint materials, down to the hour. When did the league ever need victims to hand over irrefutable evidence before initiating an investigation when investigating illegal recruitment?"
At this point, Lin Qi paused suddenly, then emphasized his words.
"Besides, when you signed that ban against me last year, did you have any physical evidence in black and white?!"
Stern glanced at Lin Qi, his eyes not showing the embarrassment of being exposed, but rather a scrutinizing and composed look, almost like an elder looking at a junior.
"Is investigating other matters the same as investigating the Los Angeles Lakers, who can influence the league's nationwide broadcasting base?" Stern didn't shy away from the question, his tone even becoming more pragmatic and direct. "Lin, you're smart, you understand business. But sometimes, your logic in thinking is too young and naive, not that of a manager standing at the level of the entire league."
Stern stood up, walked slowly to the window, and looked at the traffic flowing like beetles on the streets of Manhattan.
"You think I'm favoring Jerry Buss?" Stern asked, his voice deep and forceful, his back to Lin Qi. "I don't deny that Los Angeles has been more lenient in handling certain matters. But that's not favoritism; it's a balance made in the overall interests of the league."
"I'd like to hear the details," Lin Qi said calmly.
"What was the league like in 1979 when Jerry Buss borrowed $67 million to buy the Lakers, the Great The Forum, and the Los Angeles Kings?" Stern turned around, his eyes piercing. "Back then, the NBA was considered garbage by the three major commercial television networks. The NBA Finals were replays, most teams were constantly struggling to stay afloat, and locker rooms were filled with marijuana and illegal drugs. The mainstream middle class in America didn't watch basketball at all."
" Jerry Buss changed everything." Stern tapped the edge of the table. "He brought Hollywood celebrities to the sidelines, he invented Lakers Girls, he turned the arena into the nation's premier entertainment venue, and he and Magic created 'Showtime.' Without the viewership frenzy Los Angeles sparked on the West Coast, without the ripple effect of the Great The Forum's fame and glamour, how would Larry Bird Brian and I have negotiated national broadcast contracts with CBS and NBC? How would the league's twenty-odd teams have grown their annual revenue sharing from hundreds of thousands of dollars to tens of millions of dollars?"
Stern exhaled, his eyes resolute. "Of all the team owners in the league, Jerry Buss may have a dissolute private life, and he may be shrewd in calculating personal interests, but he has always been one of the owners who understands the league's big picture best. In every labor negotiation, he has never taken the lead in causing trouble. When the league was pushing for a unified package of national broadcasting rights and the consolidation of national sponsorships, how much local interest did Los Angeles, as the second largest market in the country, voluntarily relinquish to accommodate the smaller teams in the Midwest? He pays huge luxury taxes every year, filling the league's revenue pool, without ever complaining."
"A boss who has been the economic backbone of the league for the past two decades, you want me to now set up a special investigation team, move into Staples, search his office, and freeze his accounts just because of a verbal dispute from two years ago that has no verdict, and because of a lawsuit filed by Michael Jordan?"
Stern shook his head, his tone unwavering in his resolve. "That's not upholding the rules; that's shaking the very foundation upon which the entire league depends for its survival."
Lin Qi sat on the sofa and listened quietly to this grand discourse.
At that moment, Lin Qi completely saw through David Stern's logic and the core political ecology of the NBA business empire.
David Stern's repeated emphasis on the so-called "overall interests of the league" is essentially a carefully packaged pragmatic utilitarian philosophy. The NBA is not a federal court; it is not a judicial system that follows procedural justice, but a commercial Vince Carter composed of twenty-nine independent investors.
Within this closed business alliance, the league bylaws grant the commissioner supreme "discretionary power," namely the infamous " Best Interests of the NBA Clause.
The amazing thing about this clause is that it never has a clear boundary.
When the Boston Celtics, under Lin Qi's management, achieved a four-peat, breaking the league's existing competitive balance, Stern didn't hesitate to wield the big stick and issue a ban. Because at that moment, suppressing Boston's monopoly and supporting the Lakers' revenge aligned with Stern's vision of "competitive balance" and "national viewership."
But when the Los Angeles Lakers were accused of illegally recruiting Michael Jordan using unreported team ownership, Stern could instantly switch to a completely different persona. He started talking about "legal procedures," "missing evidence," and " Jerry Buss's historical contributions."
In Stern's political system, rules were never Sword of Damocles hanging over everyone's heads, but rather a lever he used to balance the interests of all parties.
Big-market teams enjoy special privileges because they underpin the league's nationwide broadcasting base. Veteran teams are exempt because they are the source of legitimacy for the league's capital narrative.
So-called fairness is nothing more than self-comfort for weaker teams. So-called violations are essentially just about whose interests you've infringed upon.
If the owner of the Milwaukee Bucks or the Cleveland Cavaliers were in that position and suspected of violating the rules, Stern would probably have already handed them a fine and a notice to strip them of their draft picks. But in front of Jerry Buss, and in front of the unshakeable golden brand of Los Angeles, Stern was determined to suppress the anger.
Having figured this out, the probing glint in Lin Qi's eyes completely vanished, replaced by restraint and calmness.
" David, what you said was very moving." Lin Qi pushed the file folder back to the center of the table, his tone flat and emotionless. "But you didn't call me all the way from Milan to New York today just to give me a basic lesson on the history of the NBA, did you?"
Stern paused for a moment, then sat back down in his leather chair.
"You want to save Jerry Buss, you want to save the Lakers." Lin Qi looked Stern straight in the eye, cutting through the facade of decorum. "But this is something you're actually struggling to control, aren't you?"