Late August, Boston management office. Lin Qi leaned back in his chair, his fingertips tapping lightly on the last page of the free agent roster.
Then, he began to circle a name with his pen— Mark Price.
" Price?" The scouting director leaned over for a look, then frowned. "Lin, he had plantar fasciitis last season in Washington, only playing seven games the whole year. A 32-year-old point guard whose foot is practically useless... Look at how crowded our backcourt is, Sam Cassell, Eddie, Finley, and that Canada rookie Nash."
"I know he only played seven games," Lin Qi said.
Price was a four-time All-Star and four-time All-NBA All-NBA Team. He was only the second player in NBA history, after Larry Bird Larry Bird, to achieve a "50-40-90" shooting percentage. His career free throw percentage is the highest in league history.
A white point guard who was only 1.80 meters tall and ridiculed by everyone as "too short, too slow, and lacking in athleticism" managed to outmaneuver Stockton and steal a spot on the All-Star team by relying on his incredibly accurate shooting and top-notch pick-and-roll IQ.
His playing style, shooting ability, and the way he compensates for his physical disadvantages with skill have led many veteran fans and experts to jokingly refer to him as " the Stephen Curry of the 90s."
Lin Qi wasn't too concerned about how many more years Price could play. But he knew Lin Qi's plantar fasciitis-affected feet wouldn't last much longer.
What he truly valued was the path Price would take after retirement.
In the historical trajectory Lin Qi knew, this gentle man would become the league's top "shooting miracle worker" after retiring. He would reshape players with deformed hands that no one dared to touch, and train one speedy young point guard after another into All-Stars who knew how to play with rhythm and brains. Kemba Walker, Stephen Curry... and that name Lin Qi knew all too well, Rajon Rondo.
But Lin Qi couldn't say a single word of these things.
More importantly, he knew that at this moment, he could not say a single word of these things to Price himself.
Because in the summer of 1996, Mark Price had absolutely no desire to hear anything about "retirement" or "becoming a coach."
Lin Qi knew all too well what Mark Price's mindset was at that moment.
This man left Washington in humiliation. He only played seven games throughout the entire season, and the media was pessimistic about his future, saying that this superstar point guard who once surpassed Jordan to win an All-NBA First Team selection was finished.
Price, deep down, has the arrogance of a superstar. He's not convinced. He's burning with anger and wants to play all 82 games in the new season to give a resounding slap in the face to everyone who's been pessimistic about him.
At this point, Price didn't want retirement or security at all.
What he wanted was to prove he wasn't dead. He wanted a stage where he could stand up again and be the protagonist once more.
Therefore, Lin Qi's long-term plan to "become a coach after retirement" cannot be mentioned at all today. If anyone dares to mention the word "retirement" to Price today, the deal will fall through on the spot.
And the only person in the whole world who could reignite Price's heart was one person.
Lin Qi picked up the intercom. " Rick, come to my office."
Shortly after, Celtics head coach Rick Adelman walked in through the door.
In the original historical trajectory, it was Adelman who should have become the Warriors ' head coach, and it was precisely because he appreciated Price's shooting and pick-and-roll abilities that the Warriors used that contract to sign Price.
The one who tied the knot must untie it.
The phone call was made by Adelman himself.
" Mark." Upon hearing that familiar voice, Price on the other end of the phone visibly paused for a moment.
" Rick?"
"It's me."
After exchanging pleasantries, the two quickly got down to business.
Adelman said, "I have a child in my arms, Kevin Garnett."
Adelman's voice softened on the receiver, yet held a hook. "2.11 meters tall, runs like a small forward, and has a soft touch. Most importantly, this kid is very eager to learn."
Mark Price didn't answer the phone.
But he didn't hang up. Adelman could hear his breathing suddenly soften.
" Mark, you've never had a monster like this around before." Adelman's voice was deep, with a cunning, almost sly quality. "He doesn't have to wait around like a traditional center. When you run a pick-and-roll with him at the high post, your opponent won't dare to move. If they dare to back down, you can pull up and shoot a three; if they dare to switch, Garnett can easily exploit mismatches against guards like it's nothing."
What if they double-team you?
Adelman paused, then let out a meaningful chuckle.
"In this league, most point guards panic when double-teamed and rush to pass the ball away to shirk responsibility. But you don't."
"You'll dribble the ball for an extra half-beat, using your weight to stick to both defenders. Just when they think they've closed the gap, you'll slip the ball under their armpits, skimming along the floor."
"The free-throw line, the elbow area, the cut to the basket. Your ball always finds its way to the perfect spot."
Adelman's words were incisive.
"That's why I'm looking for you, Mark. I don't care how fast you can still run, nor do I need you to fight for twenty points every game."
"What I want is your brain. Because only you understand... a pick-and-roll is never a two-person game."
"The pick-and-roll is the art of making all five opposing players make mistakes."
On the other end of the phone, the man who had been silent for a long time began to breathe differently.
These words struck a chord deep within the heart of this veteran All-Star point guard.
"I also have a rookie named Nash," Adelman continued, handing him more. "He's from Canada. His physical attributes are average, slow, and he doesn't have much jumping ability. Everyone says he can't make it in the NBA."
"But when I watch him play, Mark," Adelman said, "it reminds me of someone. A guy who was 6'8", people said was too short and too slow, but ended up winning a season over Stockton."
On the other end of the phone, Price gave a soft "tsk." But that sound lacked the previous weariness; it contained something else entirely.
"My system relies entirely on passing and movement for offense," Adelman said. "What we lack most is someone who truly understands the art of the pick-and-roll and is the hub of this machine."
"That's the kind of player I'm looking for," Adelman said, "Like you. Someone who can use their brain, their rhythm, and their incredibly accurate shooting to manipulate the entire defense."
Lin Qi sat to the side without saying a word.
He knew that Adelman's words, spoken with the eyes of someone who understood Price best, had laid out before him a scene that Price had always dreamed of returning to... a system tailor-made for a player like him, a talented center who could run epic pick-and-rolls with him, and a position that needed him and that only he could make thrive.
For a superstar who had been rejected by Washington but still firmly believed he had fuel in the tank, there was no more ardent invitation in the world.
" Rick," Mark Price's voice finally came from the other end of the phone after a long silence.
The voice no longer carried the weariness and humiliation of leaving Washington, but rather something rekindled and burning.
Price laughed. In that laugh, there was a long-lost, superstar-like brilliance.
"My feet are fine," he said. "That Garnett, get him to practice and set screens for me. And that rookie Nash..."
"Let him watch me play," Price said. "I'll show him just how a short guy can mess up this league."
I've come to Boston.
After hanging up the phone, Adelman let out a long sigh of relief and turned to look at Lin Qi: "Done. That old bastard, he's still got guts."
"It's good that you still have the spirit." Lin Qi smiled.
The contract was quickly finalized: 3 years, $10 million, squeezing the last bit of salary cap space out of Boston.
To make room, they even traded away Eric Snow, who could have become a great player, but Boston couldn't wait.
Moreover, for Lin Qi...
What he valued was Price's Midas touch after his retirement.
What Lin Qi wanted to do was leave those hands in Boston many years ahead of schedule.
It could be considered a case of spending a fortune to buy a horse's bones.
As for next season...
Lin Qi glanced out the window.
Let this veteran superstar, who's been holding back his anger, go and give that slap in the face to the entire league.
And the still-naive Nash will witness firsthand how this veteran star, who shares many similarities with him, plays the game in his daily training sessions. This is the best gift that the old superstar leaves to Boston and to the league.
Outside the window, a gentle breeze stirs in the Boston summer night.
The preseason is about to begin. The formidable Chicago Bulls still loom Mountain over everyone's heads.
"Next season," Lin Qi said softly, gazing out the window.
"We should head up the mountain."