NBA: The Dynasty Crasher

Chapter 9: Jordan's Trouble

Grant studied Zhao Dong closely, noticing the lack of the usual excitement that would come with a contract offer. He knew what that meant immediately.

"Zhao, this contract is slightly better than what John Wallace and McCarty got. It's on par with a late lottery pick. The Knicks are showing real interest," Grant said, trying to reassure him.

Zhao Dong thought it over, then replied, "Mr. Grant, I know this contract is more than fair. I haven't forgotten where I came from, being undrafted and all. You brought me to the Knicks and gave me this shot, and I won't take that for granted. I really want to stay with the team."

Grant gave him a nod of approval.

Zhao Dong didn't waste time. "But I've got two ideas for you to think about."

Grant raised an eyebrow. "Go ahead."

Zhao Dong looked him square in the eye. "Either the Knicks bet big on me, offer me a higher contract, and make me their future, or give me a one-year minimum salary, and I'll prove I'm worth more. Either way, as long as the Knicks don't give up on me, I'm staying in New York."

Grant studied him. The young guy was going all-in, betting everything on his future. Was it too much of a gamble?

"Zhao, I'll need some time to think about it," Grant finally said.

"No problem," Zhao Dong replied with a confident grin. "Like I said, I want to stay with the Knicks."

Grant clapped him on the shoulder and walked away.

Not long after, Oakley came over and sat down next to Zhao Dong. "Did Neil just talk to you about a contract?" Oakley asked, his voice laced with curiosity.

Zhao Dong shrugged, holding up the contract. "Yeah, and I turned it down."

Oakley scanned the offer, giving Zhao Dong a look. "It's a solid deal, man—basically the same as a lottery pick. Why not take it?"

Zhao Dong smirked. "I know I can do better."

Oakley studied him for a moment, sensing the determination in Zhao Dong's eyes. He knew ambition could be a blessing or a curse.

If Zhao Dong succeeded, the Knicks would be even stronger. But Oakley also knew the risks. Zhao Dong was a ball-dominant player, and as his game grew, he'd want more and more touches. That could shake up the team's rhythm. Plus, if Zhao Dong became the new leader, there was no telling how that would play out with Ewing, especially as Ewing aged.

But Oakley figured it was a long shot. After all, Zhao Dong was Chinese. A lot of people in the NBA didn't think someone from that background could match up physically with the Black players. So, in Oakley's mind, Zhao Dong's ceiling wasn't as high as the other guys.

However, Oakley had no clue that in just one season, Ewing would be injured and his career would decline. Eventually, Ewing would be traded, leaving Alan Houston as the new hope for the Knicks. Any conflict between Zhao Dong and Ewing wasn't going to happen; if there were issues, it would be with Houston, who had just been traded to the team.

"Well, figure it out, man," Oakley said, standing up. "I don't want to get involved. I've got enough on my plate. I just want to see who rises to the top. The strongest guy will get the respect, simple as that."

After the team arrived in Los Angeles, Zhao Dong crashed at the hotel for some much-needed sleep. But at ten in the morning, he made a call.

He hadn't talked to his family in a while. His parents were both civil servants in Beijing. His grandparents were still around, and he had an older brother, Zhao Dacheng. Since his rebirth, Zhao Dong had kept in touch with them, but hearing their voices always hit him in the chest. In his previous life, he had died young, alone and without a family of his own. Now, though, his priorities had shifted, and the worries of his past life seemed distant.

"Hello? Who's this?" His mother, Li Meizhu, answered the phone with a familiar tone.

"Mom, it's me. Zhao Dong," he said with a smile that she couldn't see.

"Dongdong? Oh my god, I just saw you on TV! Sun Zhenping was talking about you, saying you're tearing it up out there!"

"Yeah, I'm about to sign my official contract here," Zhao Dong replied, his voice full of determination. "When I've got the money, I'm buying Dad a Santana so he can drive you to work every day. No more squeezing on the bus."

"That's great! You're so thoughtful, Dongdong. Way better than your brother. He just talks big but does nothing," his mother said, beaming with pride.

"Mom, don't talk like that in front of him," Zhao Dacheng, his older brother, chimed in, pretending to be offended. "Dongdong, you better buy me a car too. I'll find you a sister-in-law."

"What? Why should I buy you a car? You have no shame!" Zhao Dong's mom scolded him.

"Alright, alright," Zhao Dacheng said, laughing. "But think about it, a car isn't just a car, it's an investment in your future sister-in-law. The better the car, the better the sister-in-law."

Zhao Dong couldn't help but laugh. "Fine, I'll get you a three-wheeler. Go on, let Grandpa and Grandma talk to me."

Zhao Dong hadn't been home in two years, so he chatted with each family member for nearly half an hour, catching up before reluctantly hanging up the phone.

---

Meanwhile, in Chicago, Michael Jordan was dealing with a media storm.

"Michael, Zhao Dong said you lied. Is that true?" one reporter asked, his voice sharp.

"No," Jordan replied, irritation creeping into his voice. "That rookie's full of shit. He's making things up. There's no evidence to back it up."

"So, just because there's no evidence, you're admitting it?" the reporter pressed.

Jordan's patience was running thin. "What the hell am I admitting to?" he snapped. He knew better than to let the media bait him, but they loved pushing his buttons.

"Michael, you've been accused before of pressuring teammates. Do you admit to influencing management to have Zhao Dong leave the Bulls?" another reporter asked.

"Show me the evidence," Jordan shot back, his frustration boiling over.

Jordan had always been mentally tough, but the constant media scrutiny was wearing on him. His first retirement had been partly due to the relentless criticism, not to mention the devastation of losing his father. Now, as the new season kicked off, he didn't expect to be dragged into drama again—especially not from a rookie.

But he knew the stakes. If this kept going, it could hurt his reputation with the public and inside the Bulls organization. His already strained relationship with GM Jerry Krause made things worse. If the media kept targeting him, Jordan feared it might cause him to lose influence in the team.

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