The Golden Age of Basketball-Chapter 300 - 40: You Have to Beat Me

Jordan hadn’t chatted with friends in the circle for a while; he either wouldn’t pick up the phone or would unplug it when Gan Guoyang called previously.

Now that he had the chance to corner Gan Guoyang, he clung to the phone and wouldn’t let go, venting bitterly to Jerry Krause—it was actually a good thing, showing that he wouldn’t let bad feelings fester inside him but would vent them through various means instead.

Within the Bulls, Krause belonged to the "returnee group." He had served as the Bulls’ general manager five years earlier but was fired after just a few months.

There was a disagreement with the Bulls’ board over hiring a team coach, and on top of that, he leaked his decision before finalizing it, which led the board to disagree with his choice and conclude that he had overstepped his authority, resulting in his dismissal.

This humiliation was a shock to Krause; as a general manager, if he couldn’t even decide on the team’s coach, what was the point of having him as the manager by the board?

Of course, the Bulls’ board’s mismanagement wasn’t something new, otherwise, how could they have performed so poorly in the early 80s?

Finally, in the spring of 1985, the Bulls underwent a complete overhaul; Jerry Reinsdorf, owner of the Chicago White Sox, bought the Bulls and became the team’s new boss, liberating the team from the board’s control. The Bulls became Reinsdorf’s absolute domain.

This was similar to The Warriors’ situation where those owners and shareholders who primarily focused on team management were becoming less effective, unable to compete with the more affluent and financially powerful tycoons with diverse industries.

The basketball industry in North America was gradually entering the era of big money. Although there was a salary cap that prevented unlimited player purchases like European football, supporting player salaries still required significant financial backing.

How could those small owners who toiled for a slight profit and dividends compete with the likes of Reinsdorf, who had multiple teams and could invest without restraint for fun?

Therefore, these small owners and shareholders were increasingly being bought out or retained partial shares merely for the dividends, stepping back from the management and decision-making of the teams.

This trend accelerated after David Stern took office, as Stern believed that "autocracy is the secret to the development of the sports industry"—of course, he couldn’t say that in America.

When Reinsdorf took over, his first task was to appoint a new manager to build a new team; it was unfortunate that Yin Man had been fired in September, otherwise, Reinsdorf might have considered this experienced proxy.

At the time, Jerry Krause was scouting for the White Sox and Reinsdorf admired this cunning fatty, so he had him return to the Bulls to reclaim the throne of team manager.

The first thing Krause did upon taking office was to reestablish a head coach to assert his authority, redeem his past humiliation, and prove that he, as manager, had the right to determine who the head coach would be!

So, he let go of Lou Holtz, who Jordan was fond of, and chose Stan Albeck—a choice that was not Krause’s ideal but a temporary solution.

"Do you know, Ah Gan, that guy Krause is only 5’6" tall, but he weighs 260 pounds! My gosh, the same as you, but does he think he can play center at 5’6"?"

Jordan was complaining to Gan Guoyang on the phone about Krause’s weight, and he was very dissatisfied with the replacement of Holtz; the key point was that Albeck was not even the coach Krause wanted, which indicated that the dismissal of Holtz was purely out of spite for past events and to highlight his authority.

Holtz became the sacrificial lamb for Krause to test his knife on.

"Stop talking nonsense, I’m no longer at 260 pounds, I’m around 248 now. I’m quite nimble at the moment; I am the scoring king of the league."

Gan Guoyang had just joined the league last season at 250 pounds, and his weight had gone up to nearly 260 during the season; the exact number was around 258 pounds. He had lost about 10 pounds over the summer and kept it below 250 pounds.

"Krause is just showing off his authority. Honestly, I hate this kind of guy the most. Even though he says he wants to build the team around me, he trades away all the people he dislikes, and those happen to be the ones I like. Like Coach Holtz and Rod Higgins. He has let go of many people, some really good guys. I got along well with them, but... I bet when I get back to the team, his people will be all around and none of those close to me will be there."

Jordan is a person who values relationships deeply and takes great care of those who are personally close to him in all aspects.

However, from a managerial perspective, such a personality is not suitable. Small teams are fine, but large teams, like a basketball team, cannot rely on personal feelings to hold together.

A successful team needs faith, discipline, and rules; as someone in a position of authority, one must sometimes be ruthlessly decisive, for being too sentimental will lead to the team’s eventual decay.

Although Gan Guoyang did not personally know Krause, deep down, he actually agreed with Krause’s approach: for a team to be reborn, it had to excise its festering sores.

And in the process of removing those sores, pain was inevitable. It was unavoidable that some good parts would be cut out as well; someone had to do this grim work, someone had to wield this knife.

When Gan Guoyang first arrived at the Trail Blazers, he knew that the team’s festering sore was its medical system, which not only harmed the players and affected their morale but also impacted the joining of free agents.

With the help of his own popularity and Larry Fleisher, Gan Guoyang managed to cut out this sore of the Trail Blazers, finally leading to Bill Walton’s return this year.

However, before Walton’s return, it was imperative for Stu Yin Man to step up and take the blame. So after meeting Walton, Gan Guoyang returned to Portland and had a serious dinner with owner Weinberg and Yin Man to discuss the matter.

In that moment, Yin Man understood his fate; he knew that for the future of the Trail Blazers, he could only sacrifice himself.

Gan Guoyang did not shirk responsibility; he could have hidden behind Weinberg and treated everything as the will of the owner—after all, he was now the apple of Weinberg’s eye.

Gan Guoyang confronted Yin Man directly, saying it was his idea, not solely Weinberg’s decision; he intended to "borrow your head for a moment."

Gan Guoyang bore Yin Man’s anger and tears; after all, Yin Man had grown up with the Trail Blazers, a natural attachment not every executive could understand.

Since the Trail Blazers’ inception in 1970, Yin Man had come to Portland to become a part of the team. Back then, the management and coaching staff were so few in number that each member held multiple roles. He was the team’s chief scout and also responsible for team leadership activities.

During the summer, he had to travel with the players by car to different parts of Oregon for warm-up matches, promoting the new season for the team.

He still remembered that the team’s first preseason game wasn’t even played in Oregon State because there were no available venues locally; they had to make arrangements in Longview, Washington State.

Everyone would drive to Memorial Coliseum first, then take a bus for 45 minutes to Longview. They even set off early to interact with fans at the arena beforehand, to promote the brand new NBA team, the Portland Trail Blazers.

From there, the Trail Blazers grew bit by bit and captured the championship in just seven years; within ten, they were one of the best-managed teams in the NBA.

Yin Man had made many mistakes, lacking the intuition and courage a star player might have, but he had also made many right decisions; otherwise, the Trail Blazers would not have attained their success.

In the end, he chose to sacrifice, to leave, as his final contribution to the Trail Blazers.

When Gan Guoyang saw Yin Man and Nielsen use tactics to crush the Trail Blazers, he could understand him.

"Right, Ah Gan, I’ll tell you, Krause also brought in an assistant coach named Tex Winter, who concocted something called the triangle offense. Fuck, I don’t even know what that is. Plus, do you know? Albeck wasn’t Krause’s final choice; he really wanted to groom a guy named Phil Jackson, planning to make him an assistant coach, and then head coach. That guy showed up to the team interview wearing flip-flops and a big straw hat! These are all his people! Where are mine?"

Jordan griped about Winter and Jackson, but Gan Guoyang felt like laughing; that guy really had no idea about people.

Krause indeed had great foresight; he wasn’t, as Jordan said, solely trying to establish authority. He wanted to mold an entirely new Chicago Bulls.

He had more intuition and courage than Yin Man; both Tex Winter and Phil Jackson were bold moves enacted by Krause shortly after joining the Bulls.

Especially Phil Jackson, whom Krause had been observing for many years; Jackson had been coaching in Puerto Rico’s league for five years and had been awarded the best coach.

Krause wanted him to come to the Bulls as an assistant coach, but he didn’t pass head coach Albeck’s interview. Krause temporarily compromised, asking Jackson to endure and wait a little longer.

"Michael, remember, as long as you keep winning, all of Chicago will be your people. Eventually, the whole world will be yours," Gan Guoyang said.

"Of course, that’s assuming you can beat me first."