Super Basketball Manager

Chapter 325 Small Team Wins!Front guard cleaning!

Chapter 325 Small Team Wins!Front guard cleaning!

In the early morning, drive to 120 yards in the urban area...

After slamming the steering wheel, the brakes settled...

"Hello!" In the rearview mirror, he saw that his hair was all up, and he greeted himself in the mirror...

Suddenly, a little bit of inspiration, and the adventurous spirit of pursuing excitement, made him a little ecstatic...

...

Along the way are those nasty comments...

Maybe those guys are destined to beat others, win other people's attention, and make a living...

"...Of course, if another team proposes to challenge the record of the highest winning streak in history-33 consecutive victories this season, I will be proud of it and praise their determination and courage...But if a team with [-] consecutive losses and no wins in the beginning of the season tells you this, I will only dismiss them...Hey! Ron, I think you should think about how to win the next game first, instead of doing this kind of dream... Ha..."

"Ron is a guy who is always ready to challenge people's boundaries in every way... Yes, last year he won respect, this year he will lose all his underwear..."

"Houston? Haven't they disbanded yet? If there was a promotion system, they would have already been relegated... It's a shame. I believe it would not be the result of playing with their subordinate team, the Gevik Valley Vipers..."

Everyone in the Toyota Center gathered next to the TV habitually chose to remain silent, but all of a sudden, they all looked at Ron, who was dusty early in the morning, and walked all the way to his office with a livid face.

"Lisa, pick me up Donnie Walsh (General Manager of the New York Knicks)" He glanced at the shocked Latin beauty, and shrugged again: "What's wrong?"

"Oh, no... I haven't seen you in the morning for a long time..."

"You will see... coffee in the future?"

"…I'll go…"

He smiled provocatively and walked towards his office, then knocked on the door of the little fat guy who was resting with his eyes closed...

"Come!"

...

"Hi...Louis, our manager, Ron, wants to see Mr. Downey..."

...

"What's wrong?" While clearing the table, he beckoned the timid little fat brother to sit down...

"No...didn't sleep well..."

Ron glanced at him secretly: "Hey! A lot of pressure? Listen, I'm the head of these things... No one can touch you until I get fired, OK?"

Brett smiled tactfully...

"Donnie Walsh on the second line..."

"Donnie!" Ron excitedly opened the car...

"hello!"

"Donnie, this is Ron..."

"YEAH...what's the matter? Want to play golf?"

"Haha... I don't have time for that... Listen, we need a little help..."

"OK?! How can I help?"

"...No more nonsense, I will give you JR-Smith...just like I gave you Mayo before..."

"Really?" There was a burst of surprise on the other side, and then immediately returned to calm... "Hmph, I'm listening to you fooling around..."

"What?" Seeing Ron's swearing face, Brett was dumbfounded...

"It's really not a fool, uh... who is there with you..."

"Okay, let me think about it..." Donnie Walsh pretended to be suspenseful, and he had already figured it out...

"Wait a minute, what are you doing!" Brett said innocently.

Ron turned off the speaker, his eyes reflected a very determined look. "Big cleaning!"

"Um...Eddie Curry?"

"Oh! God, I want to have a long-term injury...I don't have that much salary space...wait..."

He turned off the public release (which was actually Donnie Walsh's advocacy for Curry), and raised his eyebrows at the little fat guy...

"NO! Of course not!"

"Why? Maybe we can cut him right away..."

"Because you can't trade JR-Smith, he is the top card, Houston's scoring leader, averaging 30 points per game..."

"A leading scorer with an eighteen-game losing streak?" Ron said self-deprecatingly.

"but…"

Open the public release, "Okay, it's Eddie Curry..."

"Why do I feel like you're stealing from me?"

"NO, NO, you are the one who stole from me. First you stole OJ, then you stole JR. My two 30+ points are given to you. The name alone is very valuable!" Ron said with a smile.

The little fat brother was speechless looking left and right...

"What's wrong with him?"

"There's nothing wrong with him. Look at what you said, as if I owe you money... Let's stop talking and write it in black and white!"

"Okay, but you have to..."

"Excellent!" He hung up with a snap...

"He...he still has something to say!"

Ron smiled: "Once you get the answer you want, hang up immediately, otherwise he will open his mouth...Lisa..."

"Ok?"

"Sam Presti... (Thunder General Manager)"

"Okay, sir!"

Ron turned to the little chubby guy with an anxious face: "Jermaine Taylor is leaving too... I want to wipe out all the swingers, and tell that bad old man to give me a shit, shit!"

"I...I don't think you should do this...I really don't think you should..."

"I must let Paul George and McGrady start tonight, and let McGrady be the last player to play..." Ron said with confidence.

"I think you should calm down, Mr. Ron... think about what you're doing... because you're angry..."

"OK..." He shrugged pretendingly, "Is there anything I didn't think of?"

"You...what you do is difficult for outsiders, fans, and experts to understand...you package the team's leading scorer and the only quasi-15+10 player for almost free...just for...for..."

"What will this cause?"

"Don't... don't get sentimental, Ron..."

"Sam Presti Line 3!"

Ron held his head and yawned: "Listen, we need to rectify the atmosphere of the team, and make those tumors feel at a loss... (He compared the movement of wiping his neck, and picked up the microphone) To make an example...Sam! Jermaine is on the table! I thought of notifying you first..."

Ron: "Oh, COME! Just poach one of your staff (Bright from Thunder), is Ariza still available? What? Because he's embarrassing the other players...he's going to be in the All-Rookie Sophomore game, I promise..."

"Maybe in the All-Star..." Bright said.

"Yes...he's an All-Star! Sam..." Ron smiled and expressed his gratitude: "No, I don't want Harden first, and you won't give it if I want it...What? I want your special deal, and the draft pick...what do you want to do? I will return it to you in the future! Haha..."

"...Okay, I'll give you 5 minutes, I won't wait...that's it..."

"Ron! If Jermaine continues to play like this, he will be the same as OJ last year. With a little packaging, he will be an All-Star! Okay? He is only in the second year! JR has already left. If you trade him away who is both offensive and defensive, and then Paul George fails to step up... This is an obvious job failure... This incident alone is enough to make you lose your job!"

"...Yes, you're right!" Ron sighed long, held up his coffee and swayed it, and it was difficult to drink it... "I may lose my job... Then I will become a 35-year-old guy with only a high school diploma, unable to find a wife, a mid-life crisis early, and ruined reputation... And you, 25 years old, have a Harvard diploma and quite unique work experience in the field of economics..."

He laughed cheerfully again: "I don't think we asked the right question. I think what we should discuss is whether you believe it or not, and whether you have confidence in your own plan of 'small teams win'..."

Brett looked at Ron seriously and earnestly, as if his belief hadn't changed since the beginning: "Yes, I believe... I never hesitated..."

Ron looked at his determination and was suddenly full of confidence: "So, if you start to hesitate yourself, you might as well not start... Now that you have started, you have to carry on with all of this... It doesn't matter whether he has lost 38 or [-] consecutive losses... No, there is no need to explain to anyone... Let them go to hell..."

The little fat brother was a little surprised and grateful: "(Long silence)...Understood..."

Ron nodded sincerely: "In any case, I have to finish this matter... So you just need to tell me, based on your set of data speculation, throwing out all objective factors such as JR starting to be selfless, such as Jermaine is no longer ambitious-let Paul George and McGrady start, or JR and Jermaine Taylor can win more games?"

"If...if you can really make JR selfless and make Jermaine no longer just look at his stats, then the result may be very close..." Little Fatty nodded rigorously: "But in theory, it's still McGrady and George..."

"Then what are we still arguing about?" Ron spread his hands and said with a humorous expression.

"Sam Presti is calling again, 3rd line..."

"Um... ok, we accept..."

The expression on Ron's face changed from cloudy to clear: "Great, I have one more request... Soda... This was a mistake. When I signed the contract, I really couldn't spare any money. I didn't want my players to pay for soda... Didn't you sign a big contract with Coca-Cola? I want you to supply our machines for free for 3 years..."

"Oh! You're playing with me again... This time, how about exchanging players for soda?"

"I'm serious..." Ron smiled without saying a word...

"Well, for God's sake..."

"Great, then it's settled..." Ron smiled wretchedly, and after hanging up the phone, he was a little elated: "Okay, tell Smith he has to pack..."

The little fat guy swallowed for a while: "You... you want me to talk to JR-Smith?"

"This is your job!" Ron said with a smile.

"Well, what about Jermaine? Do you want me to tell him?"

"It's up to me...he was one of the few players who stayed on the team for me last year..." Ron sighed, then walked out the door...

　Ron turned to the little chubby guy with an anxious face: "Jermaine Taylor is leaving too... I want to wipe out all the swingers, and tell that bad old man to give me a shit, shit!"

(End of this chapter)