On the Charles River in early autumn, a cool monsoon breeze swept away a few maple leaves.
In the CEO's office on the top floor of the New Garden, the aroma of hand-drip black coffee had just begun to waft through the air. Lin Qi leaned back in his leather chair, several urgent news reports from the Associated Press's California bureau spread out in front of him.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door was gently pushed open, and Margaret entered the room carrying a torn-off fax telegram, placing the paper directly next to Lin Qi.
"Latest developments in Los Angeles, something that happened about two hours ago," Margaret briefly reported. " O'Neal landed in Los Angeles this morning after his vacation in Hawaii and had lunch at the famous Spago steakhouse in Beverly Hills. Kupchak's assistant happened to be having lunch with a business sponsor, and the two bumped into each other in the hallway."
Lin Qi's gaze swept over the records on the fax.
The written record is very detailed: O'Neal questioned the management about why they kept refusing to answer Perry Rogers' ( O'Neal's agent) calls, and completely lost control of his emotions. He pushed aside an oncoming waiter's cart, knocked over several stemmed water glasses, pointed at his assistant's nose and said harsh words, questioning whether Jerry Buss didn't even have the courage to speak to him face to face.
Several paparazzi who regularly stake out Beverly Hills captured the chaotic scene outside the restaurant. Even without recordings from inside, this scene was enough to make headlines in major tabloids.
After scanning the last line of text, Lin Qi casually placed the fax paper next to his coffee cup, his expression indifferent.
This was entirely expected.
" Margaret." Lin Qi leaned back in his leather chair and tapped the table thoughtfully.
Assistant Margaret looked up, awaiting instructions.
"Find one or two nationally renowned columnists on the East Coast, such as a senior writer for Sports Illustrated, or a writer for ESPN's collective bargaining agreement column," Lin Qi said calmly and clearly. "Pretend to be 'an anonymous executive familiar with the league's financial operations' and hand them a detailed analysis of the Lakers' salary structure."
Margaret quickly opened her shorthand notebook to take notes.
The punitive luxury tax established by the 1999 collective bargaining agreement remains as complex as gibberish for most sports journalists. The vast majority of media outlets still rely on sensationalist, soap opera logic like " O'Neal wants a max contract, Jerry Buss is too stingy" to grab attention.
"Put O'Neal's demand for a $35 million annual salary, Marion and Odom's recently effective multi-million dollar contracts, and Richardson's contract renewal prospects for next year all together," Lin Qi said slowly. "Show the reporters: If we meet O'Neal's demands, the Lakers will pay the league nearly $100 million in punitive luxury tax over the next three years."
Lin Qi paused, his eyes calm. "Then, tell them that dwelling on ' Jerry Buss was unwilling to spend money' is too superficial. The real core is that Jerry Buss simply didn't believe the Lakers could win a championship by building a team around a traditional center over thirty years old."
Lin Qi looked at Margaret and added casually, "They'll think this is some industry insight they've unearthed, and they might even be eager to talk about it on television."
For a superstar like O'Neal with an extremely strong sense of self-esteem, he would simply scoff at criticism from the Boston media. But if authoritative analysts across the country presented detailed financial analyses and unanimously concluded that " Jerry Buss believes you're too old to lead the team to a championship," then that knife would pierce his heart.
O'Neal will unleash all his fury on the management's "betrayal" and "disrespect".
"Understood. I will select a suitable person and 'accidentally' leak the information." Margaret deftly closed her notebook.
Then, she pulled out an international newspaper clipping from the bottom of the folder and handed it to me.
"Boss, second thing. There's new news in the Europe and domestic media regarding Kobe Brian."
The clippings featured large headlines from the Italy newspapers * Milan Sports Gazette * and Tuttosport.
Just as the Olympia Milan management hinted a few days ago, Europe media are hyping up the news that Milan is preparing to break the Europe salary record and welcome back this "family member who grew up on the Apennine Peninsula ".
When this trend from overseas flowed back to North America, mainstream sports media across the country were filled with their usual arrogance.
A major New York newspaper ran a satirical article in its supplement titled "A Daydream in Apennines." A prominent Chicago radio host scoffed into the microphone, " Kobe is indeed embroiled in lawsuits, but for anyone to believe he'd stoop to playing in a second-rate league like Italy is a pure insult to United States basketball. Is our star's only escape route when he's in trouble to retreat to the Garden where he played soccer as a child?"
Lin Qi glanced at the sarcastic and cynical column text, a faint smile appearing on his lips.
The more the North America media arrogantly mocked him, the stronger the sense of rejection and isolation Kobe felt at the heart of the storm would be.
Kobe, who had already moved to Chicago to start his own business, was already under intense scrutiny from all sides. After the Eagle County Incident, the felony charges loomed large, and sponsors distanced themselves from him as if they were doing nothing.
At a time when his homeland was besieged on all sides, an olive branch extended from across the ocean in the name of his homeland, no matter how untimely it may seem, will be like a seed that takes deep root in the heart of that stubborn young man.
Kobe spent his childhood in Rieti and Reggio Emilia, where he speaks fluent Italy and has a deep affection for the land.
If the Colorado legal system tightens its grip, Olympia Milan will become his only option between facing jail time and continuing to play.
If this top superstar is indeed forced to leave for Europe, it will be a bombshell for the EBA League, which is controlled by Lin Qi, instantly igniting its global broadcasting value and commercial attention.
"Stay tuned." Lin Qi closed the clipping.
Margaret put away the clippings, then glanced at the schedule in her hand, and reported earnestly.
"One last thing. Gregg Stone, head of Converse North America basketball division, just called to say that Nike has made a concrete move regarding Kobe's shoe contract."
Lin Qi looked up. " Nike has officially withdrawn from the negotiations?"
"Yes. Nike's legal department officially notified Rob Pelinka yesterday that, due to concerns about Wall Street's ethical scrutiny, the signing process for Kobe has been completely frozen, and the planned ' Black Mamba ' signature shoe project has been indefinitely shelved. Rob Pelinka is now facing obstacles everywhere and has nowhere to turn."
Margaret continued, " Gregg has compiled Converse's latest evaluation report on Kobe. Since you have dinner scheduled for tonight at the St. Butorph Private Club in the Back Bay, Gregg has requested to come and report to you in person. Rob Pelinka has agreed to make contact, but Kobe's team wants much more than a regular contract; Gregg needs your final authorization."
Lin Qi nodded.
Converse has long been fully privatized by him and has become his private asset. This brand has never lacked rebellious blood in its bones. Back then, it dared to launch Suns signature shoe for Dennis Rodman, who was covered in tattoos, which meant that Converse has never been afraid of any so-called off-field storms.
At a time when Nike and Adidas are trying to protect their reputations at all costs, this is the best window of opportunity to completely lock this generation's most influential superstars into their own business empires with extremely high cost-effectiveness.
Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, dusk was slowly swallowing the surface of the Charles River, and the horizon was gilded with a rich golden-red by the setting sun.
Lin Qi stood up and casually picked up the coat hanging on the hanger.
"Let's go to St. Botswana."