If anyone else had been asked this question—especially a student like him—they might have been at a complete loss. But Yang Shuai, as it happened, had worked in data analytics in his past life.
When he transmigrated, artificial intelligence was already on the rise; by comparison, sports analytics in this era was still in its infancy.
"Data analytics is an exceptional tool," Yang Shuai began. "First, it helps us make better in-game decisions. For instance, we can use analytics to identify our team's most efficient offensive sets, or to map out an opponent's offensive tendencies so we can tailor our defensive focus accordingly.
"Second, it helps evaluate players. Traditional stats can be deceptive: posting identical numbers on a losing team versus a contender means very different things, just as putting up those numbers against elite competition differs from doing it against cellar-dwellers. We can use advanced metrics like plus-minus, PER, and true shooting percentage to properly assess talent."
Here, Yang Shuai paused and glanced toward Carroll Dawson. "We can also build predictive models to gauge injury risk and implement strategic load management. For franchise cornerstones like Yao and T-Mac, an analytical model could provide early warning signs before a major breakdown."
Seeing Dawson nod, he shifted his attention back to George Postolos. "Finally, we can analyze fan ticket-buying and spending habits to deliver targeted promotions on tickets and merchandise, while optimizing the in-arena experience.
"Of course, data analytics can't quantify the clutch factor in high-stakes moments, nor can it capture intangible assets like locker room chemistry, a player's willingness to sacrifice, or veteran leadership.
"At the end of the day, analytics is merely a highly efficient tool. The ones making the final decisions are still human beings."
Postolos was visibly stunned by the breakdown. He had never imagined a recent college graduate would possess such deep insight—to the point where Postolos felt somewhat outclassed himself.
If Yang Shuai's resume hadn't listed psychology as his major, Postolos would have sworn the young man held a degree in data science.
Over the remainder of the session, Dawson and Postolos peppered him with more questions, ranging from macro topics like assembling a scouting department and front-office staff down to specifics like the frequency of scouting meetings.
It explained why the earlier candidates had taken so long. The responsibilities of an NBA general manager spanned far more ground than most people could imagine.
Yang Shuai had no actual experience in those areas, so he had to answer based purely on his own conceptual understanding.
Once the interview concluded, Yang Shuai stood and exited the office.
He had only taken a few steps down the hall when Dawson followed him out and called after him.
"You're even better than I expected. No—far better," Dawson praised warmly right off the bat.
"Thank you, sir," Yang Shuai smiled. Dawson hadn't chased after him just to exchange pleasantries; this was unmistakably a positive sign.
"In truth, our original intention was simply to invite you to join our front-office staff," Dawson explained, clarifying why they had brought him in for the GM interview in the first place. Yang Shuai was a hot commodity around the NBA right now and was bound to be weighing various offers; framing the opportunity as a GM interview was a strategic way to move the Rockets to the top of his shortlist.
"However, we've changed our minds," Dawson said earnestly. "We want you to be our assistant general manager."
Assistant GM. In basketball front offices, the role was analogous to a lead assistant coach—sometimes even titled vice president of basketball operations or deputy GM. It was essentially the apprentice position for the top job; if the seated GM moved on, the assistant was prime candidate to take over.
For a moment, Yang Shuai was genuinely tempted.
This interview had proven far more illuminating than he had anticipated. The latter half, in particular, had made him realize that he wasn't yet equipped to run an NBA franchise as general manager.
Stepping down a rung to become an assistant GM and accumulate executive experience was the best possible move for him right now.
Yet he quickly regained his composure. As a transmigrator, he knew perfectly well who the Rockets' next general manager was going to be.
He was willing to compromise on many things, but he drew the line at abandoning his principles.
"I can accept this offer," Yang Shuai replied, "provided that the person named general manager isn't Daryl Morey."
Dawson was taken aback. He hadn't expected such a condition from the young man.
"Do you and Daryl have bad blood?" Dawson asked once he found his voice. As far as he knew, the two had never even crossed paths.
Yang Shuai shook his head. "I know he's a staunch advocate of analytics. But as I said, analytics is ultimately just a tool. If you treat it like gospel, you will never achieve true success."
He naturally couldn't voice the real reason he refused to work alongside that dog Morey, so this was the most reasonable justification he could offer.
Dawson felt a twinge of helplessness; this was effectively forcing him to choose between Yang Shuai and Morey. Still, he gave a nod. "I'll have someone notify you of our decision when the time comes."
After Yang Shuai returned from Houston, Russell Westbrook came to see him immediately. Westbrook shared his decision to declare for the 2007 NBA Draft and invited Yang Shuai to join his table in the green room.
Prospects projected as NBA lottery picks typically received an invitation to the league's green room, granting them a reserved round table directly in front of the draft stage.
Invited players could bring a small entourage of family and close friends. The allotment varied from year to year; this year, the maximum was five guests.
Westbrook's invitation spoke volumes about how much he valued Yang Shuai.
Yang Shuai agreed. Knowing Westbrook's temperament, turning him down would genuinely hurt the guard's feelings.
Besides, after watching the draft on television so many times, having the chance to experience it in person was an opportunity he couldn't pass up.
After two days of rest in Winston-Salem, Yang Shuai set out without delay for Cleveland to attend his official interview with the Cavaliers.
To his surprise and flattered delight, the Cavaliers sent a private car to pick him up from the airport, and that very evening, GM Danny Ferry came to visit him at his hotel.
Meeting privately before the formal interview was a textbook backchannel move, but Ferry's opening proposal shocked him even more: "Would you be willing to serve as my second-in-command?"
This went beyond backchanneling; it was effectively declaring that tomorrow's interview was a mere formality!
Ferry quickly added his rationale: "I heard you interviewed for the general manager position in Houston."
The implication was clear: Ferry knew he had to up his ante to stay competitive.
Once the shock wore off, Yang Shuai felt a surge of quiet satisfaction.
His earlier calculation had been spot-on—going through with the Rockets' GM interview had given him immense leverage.
Furthermore, Ferry's sincerity went above and beyond anything Houston had offered.
It wasn't just the car service or the personal hotel visit; most importantly, Ferry was the incumbent general manager.
Incumbent meant he already had an assistant in place. Unlike the Rockets' vacant setup, Ferry's promise meant he was prepared to reassign his current assistant to make room for Yang Shuai.
"If I don't land a general manager job, I'll join your front office," Yang Shuai promised.
"Then let me welcome you aboard in advance," Ferry chuckled, confident the Rockets would never actually hand the reins of their franchise to Yang Shuai.
The official interview the next day went extraordinarily well.
For one thing, having gone through the Rockets' interview, Yang Shuai was mentally prepared for the types of questions they asked, allowing him to sound far more seasoned.
More importantly, having already secured Ferry's private commitment, his mindset was completely relaxed.
When the interview wrapped up, Ferry walked out of the office with him, and the two were already discussing specific roster moves and front-office duties for the upcoming season.
As they were talking, an imposing, muscular figure walked toward them down the corridor, wearing loose casual clothes with a bulky pair of headphones draped around his neck.
Yang Shuai had never met the man since transmigrating, but it was impossible not to recognize him.
"Hey, LeBron. Let me introduce you—this is Hanson. He'll be joining our staff very soon," Ferry said warmly, making the introduction.
The Cavaliers had just wrapped up their first-round playoff series, sweeping the Wizards, and had returned home to prepare for round two.
LeBron broke into a boyish grin and extended his hand to Yang Shuai. "Welcome."
"Hanson predicted earlier that we'd make it all the way to the Finals this year," Ferry added, briefly recounting Yang Shuai's earlier analysis from the party about how the Cavaliers could break out of the Eastern Conference—though, of course, omitting the part about getting swept in the Finals.
LeBron nodded repeatedly, widening his eyes in approval as he gave Yang Shuai a thumbs-up. "Great eye."
After a brief chat, LeBron headed toward the locker room to change for practice, while Yang Shuai and Ferry continued walking and talking.
Once they reached the ground floor, Ferry patted Yang Shuai on the shoulder. "If you've got time, spend a couple of days exploring Cleveland to get a feel for the city."
Yang Shuai nodded. He was nearing graduation and had already completed all his required credits; all that remained was walking at the commencement ceremony.
Over the next two days, Yang Shuai took a thorough tour of Cleveland.
While this former industrial powerhouse lacked the bustling glamour of Miami, it boasted abundant green spaces, making it a very livable city, and its healthcare network seemed exceptionally well-developed.
While it might not be the most attractive destination for star players, for a front-office staffer like him, it was practically an ideal place to work.
Two days later, just as Yang Shuai was getting ready to head back to Winston-Salem, Ferry showed up at his hotel again.
Unlike their previous meeting, Ferry looked thoroughly dejected. The moment he laid eyes on Yang Shuai, he asked an unexpected question: "When you were at Wake Forest, did you write a scouting report on LeBron?"
Yang Shuai searched his memory and soon recalled that he had indeed written such a report when interviewing for the scout position at Wake Forest.
"And then you talked about that scouting report during your exclusive interview with Ian Eagle?" Ferry pressed for confirmation.
Seeing Yang Shuai nod to both questions, Ferry let out a long, helpless sigh and handed his phone over.
Yang Shuai took the phone. Displayed on the screen was an excerpt from Eagle's feature story praising his boldness and foresight, citing that very scouting report as evidence.
Seeing that, Yang Shuai immediately grasped what Ferry was getting at.
How could LeBron James, the self-proclaimed "Chosen One," ever tolerate someone labeling him the "perfect second option"?
Encountering LeBron in the hallway two days earlier had probably triggered the superstar's memory of who he was—and prompted him to pull the plug on the Cavaliers hiring him.
Chapter 36