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Basketball Legend: When Pride Still Matters-Chapter 521 - 361 Beginning to Sway Lifetime Oklahoman
Chapter 521: Chapter 361 Beginning to Sway Lifetime Oklahoman
The first week of the new NBA season had just begun, but Clay Bennett had already received the financial report since July.
Bennett faced the report with complex emotions. He hoped it would concretely reflect Yu Fei’s business value, or prove, inevitably, that even Yu Fei couldn’t save Seattle’s market—as if to provide feedback for their deliberate estrangement of local fans over the past year.
Before opening the financial report, Bennett remembered the reproachful gaze Herb Kohl, the owner of the Bucks, had cast at him not so long ago during the NBA owners’ summit.
Kohl made Bennett feel like a scoundrel who had stolen someone’s wife.
But could he be blamed? He didn’t want this either…
However, when Bennett opened the financial report, all errant thoughts vanished. The numbers seemed alien to him.
...
This couldn’t be real.
According to the League’s actuarial expectations, the total revenue for the 2007-08 season was expected to reach 3.5 billion US dollars. Dividing that number by 30, the average revenue for each team per season would be 116 million US dollars.
But in reality, less than a third of the teams could reach this figure annually.
For small-market teams, breaking even was considered a success because making money was the job of large-market teams. Ultimately, the money earned by large-market teams would pool together to subsidize the less successful small markets.
Seattle is the 14th largest city in the United States. It can be said that they are a large city with a vast fan market, but since the Jordan era, they had never had a booming year with annual revenue exceeding one hundred million.
But that doesn’t mean the people of Seattle don’t support the Supersonics, as Bennett had said, NBA economics had changed since the Jordan era.
Key Arena, while exquisite, was too small. Ticket sales alone couldn’t support a performance of a hundred million dollars a year.
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Yet, what Bennett saw today was a financial report showing a hundred million in performance.
“Is there a problem with the data?” Bennett looked puzzled at Sam Presti.
Presti said, “Frye has won back the fans who were about to give up on us. More people bought season tickets, and most importantly, there are a bunch of sponsors chasing Frye’s tail.”
“I don’t understand.” Bennett knew NBA economics, but he didn’t understand the economics of a superstar. “Does Frye’s personal sponsorship have anything to do with us?”
With self-deprecating humor, Presti said, “Frye doesn’t accept just any sponsorship.”
“So?”
“Those sponsors he rejects choose to sponsor us instead, so Frye can still use their products.”
Bennett became alert, “Shouldn’t they give us Frye’s sponsorship fees as well?”
“Yes,” Presti nodded, “What they actually give is double. One part for us, and one for Frye.”
Bennett’s serious square face began to relax, “Does Frye know about this?”
“He does,” said Presti, “he doesn’t mind the team making money in his name.”
For the first time, Bennett realized just how strong a superstar’s money-drawing power was.
“Do you remember our annual financial report from last year?” Bennett asked casually.
Although Presti had joined this year, he had seen last year’s financial report.
“Less than 60 million,” Presti said, “We didn’t look like a large-market team at all.”
Indeed, it was a disgrace to the large market.
If they had really wanted to do business well in Seattle, it wouldn’t have been so difficult.
This was why Yu Fei had stunned Bennett.
“But this guy has just made me twenty million dollars since the beginning of the season!” Bennett put down the report and couldn’t help but stand up to adjust his tie. “This guy… he’s such a detestably good fellow!”
Now, Bennett understood Herb Kohl.
He also came to appreciate Kohl’s happiness.
Even as a big-market owner, he thought Milwaukee, such a small place, couldn’t possibly reflect Yu Fei’s business value.”
With Yu Fei’s abilities, he could bring at most three times the profits to Milwaukee. The market had made that decision.
But what about Seattle?
Unimaginable!
As a tough American who had vowed to become an Oklahoman for life, Clay Bennett suddenly felt that being an honorary Seattleite might not be so bad.
That wicked thought lasted only a second.
NO!
I’m a loyal Oklahoman, and I’m going to steal the Supersonics away from Seattle on behalf of Oklahoma!
Inside, the noble Oklahoman soul of Bennett surged to the forefront. Yet, every time his gaze fell upon the financial report, a quiet devil whispered: Seattle isn’t bad either.
Still, he could suppress the devil because of his loyalty to his homeland, which was beyond words.
“They should have come back by now, right?” Bennett asked.
Presti nodded, “Yes, just got back from Milwaukee.”
“I need to see them,” Bennett said, beaming, “My boys just defeated the defending champions. Congratulations are in order!”
Beverly Yu making you twenty million in a week is worth celebrating, isn’t it?
Presti felt a sense of irony within, yet his face remained expressionless, “But Frye isn’t here.”
“Oh?” Bennett asked, “Where has our MVP gone?”
“The new municipal building was completed a while ago, and it is officially in use today,” Presti explained. “The mayor invited many prominent figures from the city, and Frye is representing our team.”
Bennett sensed something subtle from this minor matter.
“Was it his idea to go?” Bennett asked.
Presti said, “Yes, our initial choice was Brandon Roy, but Frye volunteered to go, and Brandon willingly gave him the opportunity.”
In that moment, Bennett thought of many things.
The young man who transferred under the guise of saving the Supersonics seemed to be more than just full of enthusiasm. He was acutely aware of the situation here, and his approach was spot on.
Unlike those Seattle yokels who just kept jabbering “save our Supersonics” on the streets all day, merely shouting slogans endlessly.
Yu Fei’s ability to attract wealth made Bennett’s footing a bit unsteady. His intentions hadn’t changed, his plans remained the same, but he indeed felt that if there really was a chance for things to turn around, then he might also have a new option.
But this matter was destined to be fraught with difficulties.
Even for a basketball deity, trying to combat public opinion, the policies of those in power, and the will of the League with one’s own strength was almost impossible.
“Boss, do you still want to go see the players?”
“Oh, no need,” Bennett suddenly asked, “How much did the construction of the new municipal building cost?”
“I don’t know,” said Presti. “But a building that accommodates all the departments is definitely a project worth hundreds of millions of US dollars.”
“Hmph!”
Bennett, in a huff as though truly angry about the issue he spoke of, exclaimed, “They can use taxpayer money to build themselves a municipal building worth hundreds of millions of dollars but refuse to spend taxpayer money on a better arena for a local totem basketball team with a 40-year history? Is this Seattle’s government? I’m really glad that we Oklahomans don’t have such a government!”
..
Before getting out of the car, Yu Fei asked Lawson, “Tony, how do I look in this suit?”
“Trust me, you’ll absolutely slay all the jerks in that building,” Lawson said. “Just hope they don’t get jealous of you.”
Yu Fei laughed and then stepped out of the car.
As an Asian-American, Yu Fei was acutely aware that he occupied the bottom tier of America’s ethnic hierarchy.
This reality had nurtured his domineering style on the court. He was determined to project an image that was not to be messed with, one that would make others wary of provoking him.
At the same time, becoming involved in politics was something Yu Fei resolutely avoided.
Unfortunately, to keep the Supersonics in Seattle, even if he didn’t want to get involved in politics, he had to extend his reach into it.
Because the whole issue surrounding the Supersonics’ relocation originated from the team’s owners believing that Key Arena was too small and that the Supersonics needed a bigger arena.
However, those in authority felt that Key Arena had just been renovated not long ago, and now you’re telling me this? Are you treating taxpayer money like it’s your own? Get lost!
So, the owners of the Supersonics started to cry poor, claiming they were losing money.
Former owner Schultz Howard claimed he lost sixty million US dollars over five years.
This led people to believe that Supersonics fans didn’t support the team, but this has always been a phrase with a leading intent.
In reality, Supersonics fans had always been very supportive. For many years, the Supersonics had been one of the teams with the highest average attendance in the League. The issue was that Key Arena was too small, and the owners could only watch as a huge stream of people flowed through Key Arena without being able to lease out a large number of commercial spaces inside to maximize their profits.
Moreover, even the claim of making a loss had major issues.
Because the League has subsidies for teams that don’t make money, this is the job of the big-market teams. Even if the Supersonics, as outcasts of this big market, didn’t make money, they were entitled to subsidies.
Even after the subsidies, Howard’s claim still didn’t hold water.
He bought the Supersonics for two hundred million US dollars in 2001, then claimed a loss of sixty million, but in 2006, he sold the team to Bennett for three hundred and fifty million dollars and made the latter assume eighty million US dollars of the team’s debt. Was this a loss? No matter how you look at it, he made a profit from this investment.
It just wasn’t enough profit.
Right, not enough.
So this was the secret to everything. Because I didn’t earn enough, I made a fuss. If you satisfy my demands, I’ll keep fussing. If that doesn’t work, I’ll sell the team to an outsider, and I’ll tell you that although this person has decided to live and die elsewhere, he has always been a spiritual Seattleite. He definitely won’t move the team. If he does move it, then he is reneging on his promise, and when that happens, I’ll cry with you.
The moment Yu Fei walked into the building, he felt as if he had instantly left the vulgar NBA and all the street slang disappeared. In its place were the refined words, “Dear XX, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Nevertheless, Yu Fei still discovered a sense of youthfulness in the old-fashioned, elegant, yet lifeless atmosphere.
A blonde Caucasian girl who appeared to have just come of age excitedly said, “Frye? Is that Frye? Oh my God, I always thought you would send Brandon Roy over!”
“You don’t like Brandon?” Yu Fei originally wanted to speak well of his brother, but after locking eyes with her talent, he thought better of it.
“No, I just find Brandon a bit dull.”
Yu Fei laughed, “That’s right, you know, Brandon is my good brother, but he’s indeed a dull man.”
“How dull?” she asked with a smile, “Is he the kind of man who thanks God before getting intimate with a lady?”
“Pretty much,” said Yu Fei. “Pretty close.”
She invited Yu Fei to sit down and introduced herself, “Oh, my apologies, my name is Amelia Nichols.”
(1) In reality, after Bennett announced plans to move the Supersonics, Howard publicly accused Bennett of deceiving him (verbally, never happened in court).