The League's Grand Finale?

The moment Yang Shuai finished outlining the second proposal, Kobe stood straight up. It wasn't out of excitement, but pure disbelief. As perennial Western Conference rivals—and close friends off the court—Kobe knew Garnett's caliber inside and out. A player like Pau Gasol wasn't even in the same conversation, even if Garnett was already thirty-one years old. It took quite a while before Kobe finally sat back down. Only after he had settled back into his seat did Yang Shuai continue. "As far as I know, the Lakers have already had preliminary talks with Minnesota. The framework was likely centered around Lamar Odom, Andrew Bynum, and draft picks for KG." The reason Yang Shuai conceived this scenario was that he knew how history had played out: the season the Lakers traded for Gasol, they failed to win the championship on their first attempt, largely due to Bynum's injury. While the Lakers' draft picks held little value, they had all been exhausted in the Gasol deal, leaving virtually no room for further roster upgrades. That was a bottleneck even Yang Shuai would struggle to solve. Shipping out Bynum to land Garnett, however, opened up an entirely different realm of possibilities. Not only would the Lakers gain Garnett, but it would also indirectly prevent the formation of the Celtics' Big Three. "The downside to this plan is KG's massive contract. That means the surrounding roster won't have much depth, and the team will rely even more heavily on you and KG," Yang Shuai added, making sure to lay out the drawbacks of the second option. Back in 2016, Kevin Durant was able to join the Golden State Warriors because the league's salary cap saw an unprecedented spike—an increase roughly equal to a max contract. In this era, however, two maximum contracts were enough to consume almost the entire cap, not to mention Garnett's contract was the largest in NBA history. Take the upcoming season: Gasol's salary was $13.74 million, Kobe's was $19.49 million, and Garnett's sat at an eye-watering $23.75 million! Meanwhile, the league's salary cap for next season was a modest $55.63 million. Even if the Lakers chose to disregard the luxury tax, matching salaries in a Garnett trade would require sending out valuable rotation pieces. They couldn't conjure players out of thin air. So while trading for Garnett looked tantalizing on paper, winning a championship under that model remained a daunting challenge. Just as Yang Shuai had put it, Plan A was safe and steady, while Plan B was a high-stakes gamble. Having heard Yang Shuai out, Kobe suddenly burst into laughter. Both paths were completely acceptable to him; in fact, he couldn't help but envision what the team would look like after either trade. But the crux of the matter remained... "Too bad you're not the general manager of the Lakers." Actually, Kobe doubted it would make any difference even if Yang Shuai were the GM, because the final word in the Lakers organization had always belonged to Dr. Jerry Buss. Yet Yang Shuai's reaction caught Kobe completely off guard. He offered a faint smile, shook his head, and looked intently at Kobe. "The key doesn't lie with me, nor does it lie with Kupchak. It lies with you." "Are you sure about that?" Kobe asked, momentarily taken aback. If he possessed that kind of authority, he wouldn't have been driven to such extreme measures just to demand reinforcements. "Before, even you couldn't dictate the franchise's direction," Yang Shuai said. "But things are different now. By doing what you did, you've backed management into a corner where they're forced to make a choice. They either trade you, or they build around you according to your wishes. And as it happens, you hold a no-trade clause." The person who invented the no-trade clause was truly a genius. Historically, players had always been on the losing end against ownership—even someone as great as Michael Jordan was forced into retirement by Jerry Krause in 1998. But with a no-trade clause, the player held all the cards. "In truth, you don't have much room to maneuver either," Yang Shuai reminded him. "After taking such a public stance, unless you leave the Lakers, winning a championship is your only option." Kobe fell silent for a long time. Initially, he had spoken out in that interview simply out of frustration with the front office abandoning trade talks for Jason Kidd. But Yang Shuai's words were an eye-opener. He really was at a point of no return. Regardless of whether he laid down specific demands for the roster, he had to lead this team to a title. In that case, rather than leaving his fate in management's hands, it was far better to take the initiative and demand the exact target he wanted. He finally looked up at Yang Shuai, his admiration impossible to conceal. Yang Shuai not only possessed the vision to see through the noise to the heart of the matter, but he also had the guts to gamble everything on a single move. That made him vastly superior to Kupchak, who merely executed Dr. Buss's will and had virtually lost all independent initiative. "Once I wrap things up here, I'll have a serious sit-down with Dr. Buss." Kobe leaned forward, interlacing his fingers, and gave Yang Shuai a sincere look. "Thanks for the heads-up." "Just doing my job," Yang Shuai replied with a smile. Theoretically, after everything he had laid out, Kobe still had the option to force his way out via trade. However, Yang Shuai knew the Lakers wouldn't give in easily. Once Dr. Buss cooled off, he would most likely sit down with Kobe for an honest talk. And more importantly, Kobe's personality was not one to cut and run when the going got tough. Stepping out of the café after parting ways with Kobe, Yang Shuai exhaled a long breath. His right hand clenched into a fist against his chest. He had seized the opportunity. As for which path Kobe ultimately chose, it hardly mattered anymore. He had already proven his capability and value. Even if nothing changed and the Lakers followed historical precedent—waiting until February to strike a deal with the Grizzlies—it wouldn't diminish what he had done, because he was still the first person to suggest trading for Gasol. All he needed to do now was sit back and watch how events unfolded. After checking in with Kupchak, Yang Shuai boarded a flight back to Las Vegas the following day. Summer League was still underway, and as its general manager, he couldn't afford to stay away for too long. The Lakers' second matchup was against the Chinese national team. At the arena, Yang Shuai unexpectedly ran into Jerry West. Though he wasn't sure why West was in Las Vegas, Yang Shuai remained deeply grateful to him for helping him secure the assistant GM role with the Lakers. The two chatted amiably while watching the game unfold. The Lakers' early offense ran predominantly through Marc Gasol in the paint, a role he had earned through his stellar opening performance. Once again, Gasol enjoyed a significant mismatch inside. Yao Ming wasn't playing in this Summer League stint, leaving China's frontcourt to Wang Zhizhi, Yi Jianlian, Mo Ke, and Ding Jinhui. Aside from Wang Zhizhi, none of them had the physical bulk to match Gasol, and defense was hardly Wang Zhizhi's forte. After watching a single quarter, Yang Shuai knew Gasol was in for another solid outing. He then shifted his attention to Sun Yue. Sun Yue had been drafted by the Lakers at No. 40 overall this year, and evaluating him was part of Yang Shuai's duties as Summer League GM. Yang Shuai hadn't participated in Sun Yue's pre-draft workouts or scouting, but after watching this game, he felt the pick was driven largely by commercial interests. Sun Yue certainly had his strengths. For a tall guard, his ball-handling was respectable, his court vision and passing were sharp (9 assists against 2 turnovers), and his help defense was commendable—all attributes capable of knocking on the NBA's door. But outside of that, the rest of his game was far from NBA caliber, especially his shooting. In his past life, Yang Shuai had harbored the same fantasy as many others: if Sun Yue could just develop a reliable three-pointer, could he carve out a niche as a 3-and-D wing in the NBA? Reality, however, was unforgiving. Even at Summer League intensity, Sun Yue's perimeter shooting looked atrocious, finishing just 1-for-5. It clearly wasn't a matter of an off night, but rather a fundamental flaw in his shooting mechanics. To have any hope of carving out a role in the NBA, he would have to tear down and rebuild his shooting stroke from scratch—a monumental hurdle for a twenty-two-year-old. Furthermore, while Sun Yue offered solid help defense, his lateral quickness was mediocre for a guard, bordering on a liability that hampered his on-ball containment. On the other hand, Zhu Fangyu was an eye-opener. Zhu went 5-for-7 from beyond the arc, leading China with a team-high 17 points. A tall wing shooter was an archetype that certainly had a place in the NBA. The Lakers ultimately edged out the Chinese national team 81–75, handing them their second straight Summer League loss while securing back-to-back wins for themselves. Gasol delivered another double-double with 16 points and 13 rebounds, while Von Wafer exploded for 42 points, shattering the Summer League single-game scoring record. A squad Marv Albert had written off as "the worst team in Las Vegas" had firmly silenced the critics with their play. Over the following week, Yang Shuai remained in Las Vegas with the team. During that time, he crossed paths with Jerry West a few more times and caught wind of the Phoenix Suns extending a ten-day contract offer to Zhu Fangyu. His primary responsibility, of course, was scouting other games to see if any hidden gems had slipped through the cracks. He soon struck gold: Jamario Moon. Yang Shuai didn't recall extensive details about Moon, only that he carried the nickname "Moon Man." Statistically, he had managed to crack the Toronto Raptors' starting lineup as a rookie small forward and put together a respectable campaign. What truly drew Yang Shuai's eye, however, was Moon's defense. While Moon's measurables weren't overwhelming—standing 6-foot-8 with a 7-foot wingspan—his raw athleticism was off the charts, highlighted by electrifying help-side shot-blocking. At twenty-seven years old, Moon had already filled out his frame, possessed reliable physical strength, and displayed top-tier perimeter on-ball defense on the Summer League stage. Most importantly, this 2001 undrafted free agent had yet to set foot on an NBA court, making him the ideal low-cost target for Yang Shuai. As Summer League wound down, Kupchak called Yang Shuai. With the Las Vegas schedule nearing its conclusion, Yang Shuai handed off the remaining loose ends to Cole and returned to Los Angeles ahead of schedule. When he met Kupchak, the general manager's brow was furrowed deep. Just as Yang Shuai was bracing for the worst-case scenario—that nothing would happen until the trade deadline in February—Kupchak delivered shocking news. The Lakers were engaged in active trade negotiations with the Timberwolves. Kobe had indeed opted for the second proposal, and Dr. Buss had compromised after speaking with him. The problem was that Minnesota was demanding an exorbitant return. On top of Lamar Odom and Andrew Bynum, they were asking for this year's 19th overall pick, Javaris Crittenton, plus two future first-round picks. Yang Shuai didn't see anything wrong with that package. Garnett's trade value wasn't dictated by the Lakers; it was set by the market, and the Celtics were capable of putting together an offer just as competitive. Moreover, this price was entirely acceptable—in fact, it was an outcome Yang Shuai welcomed. Clearing out the frontcourt would open up immediate rotation minutes for Marc Gasol, virtually guaranteeing that he would sign with the Lakers. Kobe, Garnett, and Marc Gasol—that lineup offered limitless potential. Yet Kupchak's next sentence caught Yang Shuai completely off guard. "They also want Marc Gasol and Sun Yue! This isn't a trade—it's daylight robbery!"