"Aldridge signed with the San Antonio Spurs for $84.07 million over four years!" "Jordan stayed with the Clippers for $87.6 million over four years?" As Jake remained quiet, the two biggest stories of the offseason came to a close. Aldridge, who had been indecisive, finally made his choice, passing on the Rockets' enthusiastic recruitment and the eager anticipation of the Raptors. The Spurs, who rarely make big splashes in the trade market, surprised everyone by securing the league's top power forward. Buford even traded away starting center Splitter to the Hawks in the Eastern Conference, essentially an internal handoff between mentor and protégé.
As for Jordan's decision to stay with the Clippers, Jake couldn't help but imagine the frustration of a certain billionaire in Dallas. This was the infamous "door-blocking incident." After a disappointing 3-1 loss in the playoffs, Jordan was considering a team switch. The Mavericks bit and wasted no time—Mavericks owner Cuban even brought Chandler Parsons to L.A. to seal the deal. Jordan verbally agreed, but the Clippers, realizing he might actually leave, went into overdrive. Clippers owner Ballmer, along with Paul and Griffin, camped out at Jordan's house, persuading him until he ultimately backed out of his promise and stayed with the Clippers. Cuban, sensing trouble, flew to L.A. that night to try to salvage things, only to be blocked by the Clippers at Jordan's door. In the end, Jordan renewed with the Clippers, leaving the Mavericks looking like fools. Cuban, so sure he'd secured Jordan, had even released Ellis, the team's former second-in-command, to make room for Jordan's contract.
The door-blocking incident left a bad taste for many. The league's front office and the players' union debated the issue for over half a year. The league argued that Jordan's sudden reversal after a verbal agreement disrupted the Mavericks' entire strategy and warranted punishment. Meanwhile, the players' union contended that since no contract had been signed, there was no rule against changing one's mind. The dispute lasted until March 2016, when the league, having had enough, introduced a new rule: starting in 2016, the free-agent moratorium would be shortened to five days. This became known as the historic "Jordan Rule."
Jake's thoughts returned to the present. "We've contacted David West three times now. He doesn't seem interested in us at all," Peja reported from across Jake's desk.
"That's to be expected," Jake replied calmly. "He opted out of a $12 million contract—he must have his reasons. If he's not interested, we'll let it go." Recruiting West was more of a bonus for Jake, who saw him as one of the few quality free agents available at a bargain. If they got him, great. If not, no big deal.
"But are we really going to sit still?" Peja asked, looking concerned. "The West is stockpiling players. If nothing unexpected happens, next year's playoffs will be tougher."
"How's Divac doing?" Jake replied, deflecting Peja's question.
"I called him yesterday. He's still training with Jokic in Europe," Peja sighed. "Poor kid. His mentor even followed him home to make him practice during the offseason."
"That's good," Jake nodded approvingly. "Divac is dedicated. I was worried our young player might slack off, but I'm glad he has someone pushing him."
Jake seemed to recall something as he continued, "Beyond the player market, keep an eye on any unemployed coaches with a defensive focus. Malone's mentioned wanting an assistant coach who can specialize in defense."
"Defense?" Peja raised an eyebrow.
"Yep, that's the priority. LaVine, Ben, Crowder, Oubre—they could all use extra practice on the defensive end," Jake explained. With a team brimming with potential rookies, Jake knew this was the critical moment to bolster the coaching staff to make sure everyone developed properly. Without good training, all their previous efforts would be in vain.
"Go talk to Crowder," Jake instructed, packing up his files. "Sign him for two or three years." Crowder's contract included a team option, and the Kings had the opportunity to extend it early.
"Got it, I'll follow the agreed price," Peja said, noticing Jake was about to leave. As Jake picked up his large travel bag, Peja couldn't help but ask, "Business trip again?"
"Yep, off to San Antonio," Jake replied with a sly grin. "I'm going to poach someone!"
...
"Just cut to the chase, kid! What are you here for?" Popovich and Buford sat across from Jake at a restaurant in San Antonio, both staring him down intently.
"No, am I still part of the family here? Why are you so unwelcoming?" Stared down by the two wily old foxes, Jake was left speechless. "Has my league reputation really gotten that bad?"
"Really?" Buford eyed Jake with suspicion. "Who here would you even poach?"
"Aldridge is signed with you all, and who'd dare touch GDP? Kawhi's a restricted player—even if I wanted to poach him, he wouldn't leave!" Jake grumbled.
"That's fair," Buford admitted. The Spurs were now as solid as ever, with a smooth transition between the old guard and the new talent, setting them up as one of the strongest contenders for next year's championship. Even if Jake tried, no one would be eager to leave San Antonio.
"Are you really just here for a friendly visit?"
"Of course! I miss the Spurs' atmosphere so much. You have no idea—dealing with all the drama on the Kings is exhausting. Look at this new gray hair!" Jake quipped, gesturing to his head. With his lighthearted jab, the two veterans eased their guard and started enjoying their meal.
Ring, ring, ring! The shrill ringtone woke Buford from his deep slumber. After getting a bit too tipsy the night before, he struggled to shake off the fog of sleep. That rascal Jake, he thought, had really worked him over. Groggily, he picked up the phone, squinting at the caller ID.
"Hello? Pop, what's going on? Why are you calling so early?" Buford mumbled.
Popovich's voice erupted from the other end. "I knew it! That little snake had no good intentions coming back! He's poaching our people!"
The intensity in Pop's voice shook off the last remnants of Buford's grogginess. "What? Seriously? Which player did he take?"
"No, not a player!" Popovich roared. "The backstabber's reaching into my coaching staff! He took Chip Engelland!"