After two days of delay in Kentucky, Jake and his analyst boarded a plane to Tennessee. Upon arrival, they took a short rest before heading to the University of Tennessee. However, at the gym, Jake was surprised to see an unexpected figure.
"No way, what are you doing here too?" Jake smiled bitterly and walked over to sit next to him.
The old fox, Buford, smiled back and took a bite of the sandwich he had just bought. "We're both general managers. You can come here, but I can't?" he mumbled through a mouthful of food.
Seeing Buford enjoying his sandwich, Jake wasted no time rummaging through the takeaway bag at Buford's feet. Sure enough, he found another sandwich. Jake tore open the wrapping and took a big bite, enjoying it when he noticed Buford staring at him.
"What's wrong?"
"That's mine. I didn't buy it for you."
"Look at you being so stingy!" Jake waved his hand dismissively. "It's just half a sandwich. Save your appetite, and I'll treat you to a nice meal after we're done here."
Buford laughed, seemingly content. "Wow, Jake is really making money now if he's treating me to dinner."
Seeing their bosses chatting away, the analysts on both sides stepped back, giving the two some space.
As the college players trained below, Buford watched for a long time before finally asking, "So... is there anyone here worth making this trip for?"
Buford had done his homework on the current Tennessee roster, but nothing stood out to him. Jake smirked and nodded toward the court. "That one, Josh Richardson."
Buford leaned back in his seat, slightly surprised. "Him? After thinking about it, I can say Richardson has potential, but nothing extraordinary. He's projected late first-round. If he doesn't perform well in the third round of scouting, he'll likely fall to the second round. Is that really who you're after?"
Jake chuckled. "It's been just a few months since we last met, and you're already acting arrogant. Remember, you didn't even want to pick someone in the second round before, and I had to go to Europe to recruit him for you."
"Alright, alright!" Buford quickly raised his hands in surrender, recalling that part of history. Despite his track record, Buford knew Jake's instincts were sharp. Josh Richardson might not be a superstar, but his solid all-around skills and defensive ability could make him a coveted asset for many championship contenders down the line.
Jake wasn't the type of GM who only looked to stack stars. He believed a well-trained, cost-effective player like Richardson could become a valuable piece for the team in a few years. But what Jake didn't expect was that his interest in Richardson had lured Buford to Tennessee as well. If the Spurs were in the mix, Richardson's value might need to be reevaluated.
As the two strategized in their own ways, the training session below wrapped up.
"What's going on today? Why are the general managers of both the Spurs and the Kings here?" one player whispered to his coach while wiping sweat off his brow.
Their curiosity was understandable. For college players, catching the eye of NBA general managers was a dream come true, and today, two of the most powerful ones had shown up at once.
The coach shrugged. "How would I know? They just told me they were visiting. Don't read too much into it."
Even the coach himself was perplexed. Most GMs kept a low profile in January, and his team didn't have any standout stars that would warrant such attention. But, no matter the undercurrents, Jake stood up, straightening his clothes.
"Alright, the show's over. Where are we heading for dinner tonight?"
...
Later that evening, Buford glanced around the elegant dining room, impressed. "You really are making money now, kid!"
Jake leaned back casually, unfolding his napkin. "This is just the beginning," he said with a playful grin. "The team's been doing well, and we've got some extra cash. Let me tell you, when I started this job, I realized how rough things were. You guys over at the Spurs might be tight with money, but you don't know what real financial struggle is."
Buford, ever practical, took a sip of his drink and said, "It's easy to go from frugality to luxury, but hard to go back. Don't blow all your cash now, or you'll regret it later."
Jake waved it off. "Let's not talk about that. I've heard you've been getting close to Boston lately."
Buford's remark was sharp. "You've been cozying up to Boston, haven't you?"
Jake paused, his hand still on his cup, realizing Buford hadn't just come to Tennessee to watch some rookies—he had an agenda.
"Well, I've got some ideas," Jake said cautiously, lighting one of Buford's cigars. "It's still in the early stages."
Buford winced, watching Jake smoke his prized cigar. "That's a good Havana you've got there. Go easy on it."
Jake smiled, blowing a ring of smoke. "Boston's GM isn't an easy guy to negotiate with, so I'll have to play my cards right. But we're only going to be a third party in this deal."
"The East is weak right now," Jake continued. "Cleveland's got a stranglehold. It wouldn't hurt to let some of the other teams in the East get stronger so they can wear down LeBron. We need him to be tired out by the time the Finals roll around."
Jake's confidence was evident. The Kings were aiming for the championship, and he was already thinking ahead.
"Don't get too ambitious," Buford warned. "You take too big a step, and you might trip."
Jake waved off the concern. "I've got it under control. But what about you guys? Don't you want to defend your title this year?"
Buford sighed. "Of course we do, but it's tough. We didn't find any good trades in the offseason, and Tim and the rest of the core are getting older."
"Winning a championship takes a lot out of you," he added. "A lot of the guys have lost their fire."