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After lunch, Nero dropped Liam Gonzalez off at Glenview Community before heading back to her residence.Liam watched the Beetle drive off, feeling an unusual stirring in his heart.
At 26, he wasn't too young but had reached an age where love was no longer an abstract concept. His world revolved around towering athletes over six feet tall, with the most frequent female interactions being cheerleaders or flight attendants. Even his roommates were the coaching staff, leaving him in an environment dominated purely by men.
Nero stood out—beautiful, kind, and from Colombia. Should he give it a shot?
Winter had arrived. Could spring be far behind?
Despite the cold season, Liam felt a spring-like vitality.
He watched the Beetle fade into the distance before heading inside, his mind clouded with thoughts.
Tina greeted him at the door with a smile, "Liam, you're back. I've prepared some fruits and drinks for you."
"Thank you," Liam replied, removing his jacket and handing it to her.
This house was one he had purchased and renovated himself. Having recently moved out of Mark Baum's mansion, Liam hadn't been here long but still retained Tina as his housekeeper. She was familiar with his habits and took excellent care of the household.
In the living room, Liam grabbed a glass of freshly squeezed juice, took a few sips, and turned on the TV, aimlessly flipping through channels. Occasionally, he glanced at the clock on the wall.
Half an hour later, estimating the time had passed, Liam pulled out his phone and sent a text to Nero:
"Are you home?"
After hitting send, he stared at his phone for several minutes but received no reply.
A trace of anxiety appeared on his usually calm face, and his mind raced with inexplicable thoughts.
Did something happen to Nero on the road? Why hasn't she replied? Should I call her? No, what if she's still driving? That wouldn't be good. But there's no traffic this late… Could it be she doesn't want to reply? No, that's impossible…
Liam's eyes darted to the clock as he continued refreshing his messages, his unease growing.
It's funny how people can stay calm before catching feelings. But once those feelings appear, they start worrying about every little thing.
Liam was no master of love. In both his past and present life, he had only experienced one campus romance, pouring most of his energy into his career.
In his previous life, he'd gone on a few blind dates, but they all ended in failure.
Blind dates often feel like trying to match the least-likely-to-succeed men with the hardest-to-please women. Unfortunately, Liam fit this mold.
Staring at his phone, he felt like he was on an emotional rollercoaster, anxiously awaiting a response.
Forty minutes later, Nero finally replied:
"I went to the supermarket to grab a few things. Just got home. Thanks for checking in."
Relief washed over Liam, and he quickly responded:
"You should rest early. I was worried something had happened. You scared me."
Relaxing, a smile spread across his lips.
As long as she's okay...
Nero stared at her phone, confused by Liam's concern.
Why would something have happened? His messages don't make sense.
Feeling slightly odd, she replied casually:
"Go to bed early. Good night."
Liam clenched his fist lightly and grinned at the screen. He began typing:
"Good night. By the way, next time you could use the team's private jet for away games to save yourself the hassle…"
He stopped mid-sentence and deleted the message.
No, that sounds too forward. Let's take another approach.
"Good night. Thanks for dinner tonight. Let me treat you tomorrow."
Satisfied after re-reading it twice, Liam hit send.
He stared at the screen nervously. After a moment, Nero replied:
"Okay."
A smile appeared on Liam's face as he quickly typed back:
"That's settled then. Good night. We'll talk tomorrow."
Setting his phone aside, he leaned back on the couch, thoughts swirling in his mind.
At that moment, the upcoming game and their opponents faded into the background, replaced by Nero's figure etched in his heart.
Young people are like this. Every girl dreams of love, and every boy admires someone.
Liam had lost the decisiveness he exhibited during negotiations, the strategy he displayed when watching game tapes, and the assertiveness he commanded from the sidelines. Instead, he was filled with uncertainty and a mix of emotions he couldn't explain.
Love is truly extraordinary. Before breaking that invisible barrier, Liam saw Nero merely as a friend in the media industry. But once the thought entered his mind, it spread like wildfire, consuming him entirely.
Later, when he shared this with Mark Baum, the latter teased:
"Liam, I didn't expect you to be so innocent. The games must've drained you so much that you've never experienced love."
Mark added with a smirk, "Back in my day, I was surrounded by countless flowers, yet not a single petal touched me. Women didn't distract me. You're still too young."
Liam retorted, "Should I share this with Rosie?"
Mark froze, then sighed:
"No, forget it. She's my kryptonite. I was carefree before I met her, but now I don't even dare step foot in a nightclub."
It turns out, every man eventually meets the woman who becomes his match.
Dallas, Texas
The league had already announced that this year's All-Star Game would be held in the city of the Cowboys. Mark Cuban boldly claimed it would be the most extravagant All-Star Weekend of the 21st century's first decade.
On the afternoon of November 23, the Warriors arrived in Dallas via their private plane.
However, they weren't here for the All-Star Game, which was slated for February. They were here to face their long-time rivals, the Mavericks.
Two days ago, after the Warriors defeated the Trail Blazers at home, Liam gave the team a well-deserved day off to recharge before resuming light training. The schedule, however, was nothing short of brutal.
The team had endured five consecutive away games and faced giants like the Cavaliers and Celtics, only to return home and go head-to-head with a reinvigorated Trail Blazers squad. Now, the challenge continued: Mavericks, Spurs, and Lakers—all within a four-day stretch. A grueling schedule designed to test even the toughest teams.
Upon arriving in Dallas, ESPN, TNT, and other major networks were quick to conduct pre-game interviews with the Warriors. Liam didn't hold back, directing his criticism squarely at the league:
"I just don't understand how the league organized this schedule for the Warriors: Cavaliers, Celtics, Trail Blazers, Mavericks, Spurs, and Lakers. Are we not considered playoff contenders?"
The reporters chuckled.
"We're flying from Oakland on the West Coast to Boston on the East Coast, then back to Oakland, and now to Texas, near the Gulf of Mexico. This is pure torture. We're an NBA team, not aviation pilots! Does the league think I don't understand U.S. geography because I'm from Colombia?"
The room erupted into laughter.
After pausing for the laughter to subside, Liam continued seriously:
"I've filed a formal complaint with the league office. I hope they stop treating teams like the Warriors as punching bags. Even though our record isn't perfect, we have our own goals and deserve fair treatment. This schedule—back-to-back games, long-haul flights, and facing powerhouse teams—is unfair and severely impacts team performance."
The reporters nodded in agreement. Liam's points were valid, though they couldn't help but note the irony: the Warriors were currently fourth in the Western Conference.
After the brief interview, Liam stepped out of the media scrum and headed back to the team bus with assistant coach Stephen Silas by his side.
Curious, Silas asked, "Liam, the schedule's already set. Complaining won't change it."
Liam chuckled and replied, "Stephen, crying babies get milk. The well-behaved ones get ignored."
"But the schedule can't be changed," Silas persisted.
"No, the schedule is fixed," Liam admitted. "But the games haven't started yet."
"You mean…"
Liam smirked. "I'm not asking the league to change the schedule. That's impossible. I just want them to understand our dissatisfaction. If the schedule is already stacked against us, they need to compensate for it in other ways."
Silas's eyes widened. "You think a few words will make the league favor us?"
Liam chuckled. "If we were still at the bottom of the Western Conference like last season, not even tears would get David Stern to look our way. But now, we're fourth in the West. With me here, the team is gaining popularity across the Pacific. The Warriors are no longer seen as a weak team. Stern is a smart man; he'll get the message."
Silas nodded but asked cautiously, "And if Stern doesn't take the hint?"
Liam smiled. "Stephen, don't forget—I'm still the owner of the Warriors. If Stern doesn't respond, I'll call him directly to discuss league management issues. I'll make sure he hears about the difficulties the Warriors are facing."
Silas sighed. "Fine, do what you have to."
Liam exhaled softly. "I don't want to deal with this either. If I had the choice, I'd focus all my energy on the game, like when I was coaching in Butler, without these distractions. But the NBA isn't the NCAA. This is a business, and the outcome of a game is influenced by more than just the team's strength."
He continued, "After back-to-back games against strong teams, we then fly overnight to face a weaker opponent who's had two days of rest. Who do you think is more likely to win? The schedule, the referees, the order of opponents—sometimes, off-court factors have more influence on the result than on-court performance."
"With so many strong teams in the West, the competition for playoff spots is fierce. We no longer have an advantage in our schedule. We must fight for every other possible edge. In this league, a player's job is actually the simplest: train well and play well. But behind the scenes, the coach and management must work hard to secure favorable conditions for the team. And since I'm both the coach and the sole manager, it's all on me."
These were Liam's innermost thoughts. Only after entering the NBA did he truly see the complexities hidden behind the league.
The NBA was never a pure arena for basketball but a business—a spectacle that unfolded nightly.
The league's goal was never fair competition or pure wins and losses. The U.S. dollar was its sole pursuit.
Though called the National Basketball Association, the NBA was more of an entertainment company, delivering thrilling, dramatic performances to fans worldwide to earn revenue from tickets, broadcasting, advertising, and merchandise.
This was why David Stern constantly adjusted the rules: expanding offensive space for perimeter stars, tying the hands of big men, and killing off defensive teams like the Pistons and Spurs. It forced adaptations, such as Popovich reluctantly embracing three-point shooting.
Later, Adam Silver took this further, transforming the NBA into a star-driven spectacle. Physical defense vanished; players became polite on the court. Referees blew their whistles at the slightest contact, turning basketball games into exhibitions of long jumpers and acrobatic finishes.
Fans now witnessed explosive scoring feats: 20+ points became routine, 30+ was common, and even 40+ barely made headlines. A triple-double per game was no longer an honor but the subject of jokes.
This was the best era for fans to enjoy the most beautiful scoring displays.
And the worst era, with frequent whistles slicing games into pieces.
But no one could deny that if this trend continued, the NBA would eventually destroy itself.
Liam couldn't change the system, but he could adapt and fight for the conditions that benefited the Warriors most.
He was no longer just a coach—he had to advocate for the team's interests.
End of this chapter
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