read my new story : American Fast & Furious NSFW
The hallway leading to the player tunnel was lined with deep purple carpet.
Framed photos of the Lakers' glorious history hung on the walls on both sides.
Magic Johnson's infectious smile, Kareem's skyhook, the silhouette of Jerry West dribbling the ball.
The calm that Link had finally found began to ripple with a hint of nervousness again.
Jonathan Robert stopped in front of Jerry Buss's office door, knocked lightly, and then pushed it open.
"They're waiting for you." He stepped aside to let Link pass.
Old Buss's office was even more spacious than Link had imagined.
On one side, a glass display case housed fourteen Larry O'Brien championship trophies, gleaming with a cold, golden luster under the lights.
Mitch Kupchak was standing by the desk, holding a folder.
And sitting in the wide leather executive chair was Jerry Buss.
Dr. Buss was dressed in a dark casual blazer.
He looked smaller than he appeared on TV; his seventy-four years had hunched his frame slightly.
But those eyes—they held the sharpness of a man half his age.
Link took a moment to look at the legendary Lakers owner.
He was respectfully known as "Dr. Buss."
In 1979, Jerry Buss bought the Lakers.
Under his reign, the Lakers launched the "Showtime" era centered around Magic and Kareem.
Then came the Shaq and Kobe dynasty.
He had turned the Lakers into one of the most influential brands in sports.
At the same time, Old Buss was sizing up Link as he walked in.
This player who seemed... different.
"Have a seat, Link." Kupchak pointed to the chair across from the desk.
Link sat down, trying to keep his breathing steady.
"First off," Kupchak said, cutting straight to the chase as he slid the folder across the desk.
"Congratulations on your performance tonight. Especially the second half—you led us to that win." He smiled.
"But let's get down to business. The Phoenix Suns, utilizing the Miami Heat as a third party, have submitted a trade proposal to us."
He flipped the folder open in front of Link.
Inside was a printed summary of the trade framework:
> Lakers Receive: Shawn Marion, Suns' 2008 2nd Round Pick, Cash Considerations.
> Suns Receive: Link, James Posey, Lakers' 2009 1st Round Pick (Lottery Protected).
> Heat Receive: Marcus Banks, Vladimir Radmanovic.
"The Suns' GM called me personally," Kupchak continued.
"They believe your shooting ability and off-ball style are a match made in heaven for Steve Nash's system."
"They're also looking to clear cap space."
Link looked at the proposal in silence.
He felt it more deeply than ever now: The NBA is a business.
Anyone can be put on the block.
At that moment, Dr. Buss, who had been silent, spoke up softly.
"Shawn Marion..." His voice wasn't loud, carrying a bit of a rasp.
"He's still in his prime. He can guard four positions. He's a dagger in transition. Getting him would make Kobe's life a hell of a lot easier."
He paused, leaning forward slightly, hands clasped on the desk.
"Mitch and his team conducted a serious evaluation."
"From a pure basketball perspective, this is a trade worth serious consideration."
"Trading a young player who hasn't fully proven himself for an All-Star forward? Most General Managers would nod 'yes' before you finished the sentence."
Link stayed silent. He knew there had to be a "but" coming after all this.
Dr. Buss's gaze drifted to the championship trophies in the cabinet, as if recalling a distant memory.
A few seconds later, he looked back at Link.
"In 1979, when I bought this team, people said I was out of my mind," Buss said, bringing up seemingly unrelated history.
"A real estate guy trying to run an NBA team? In our first year, we won 47 games and made the Conference Finals."
"Then I drafted Earvin 'Magic' Johnson. I told the coach: We need to play fast. We need to play with style. We need to make the fans jump out of their seats."
A very faint smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.
"They said I was a maverick. They said basketball should be slow and steady, a grind-it-out game in the paint."
"I said, to hell with the rules. Fans don't buy tickets to see boring tactical sets. They buy tickets to see miracles."
As Old Buss recounted the past, the office was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"So, Link." Buss's eyes refocused on his face.
"I see that same possibility in you. Just like I saw in Kobe back in 1996. You have that same spark."
Kupchak took over the conversation, his tone softer than before.
"Phil thinks your basketball IQ is way beyond your years. Kobe has also expressed his trust in you to us multiple times. But those weren't the deciding factors."
Dr. Buss slowly stood up and walked over to the row of championship trophies.
His silhouette looked a bit frail under the lights.
But when he turned around, the aura of a man who had controlled a dynasty for decades filled the room.
"Shawn Marion can help us win now," Buss said, enunciating every word. "But Link... the Lakers need the future."
He walked back to the desk but didn't sit. He stood right in front of Link.
"I'm seventy-four years old. I've made a lot of gambles in my life. Some I won, some I lost."
"But the best bets are always on the future. On the people who can bring change." His gaze was piercing.
Link's face remained calm, but inside, he felt a surge of emotion.
"So," Buss said finally, his tone calm but unquestionable.
"When I saw your performance in the second half, I told Mitch explicitly: Reject the trade."
"This kid has 'it.' This gamble is worth it."
He paused, seeming to weigh his next words.
"But let's be honest, son. You aren't Kobe Bryant yet. I can't promise you the world."
"But at least for now, we view you as part of the long-term plan."
Link nodded. Buss was being incredibly honest.
He understood that in this business, getting that kind of assurance was rare.
"Kobe needs a partner. And not just any partner."
"He needs someone who can hit the dagger when the defense collapses on him. Someone who can shoulder the load on defense. Do you understand that role?"
Link took a deep breath and nodded firmly. "I understand, Dr. Buss."
"Good." Buss sat back down.
"That's all for tonight. Mitch will handle the follow-up communications..."
"You just need to do one thing: Keep playing. Keep growing. And keep making the fans in Staples Center scream your name."
Kupchak stood up and nodded to Link, signaling the meeting was over.
Link stood up and turned toward the door.
As his hand touched the doorknob, Buss's voice came from behind him one last time.
"Oh, and Link."
Link turned back.
"Next time there are rumors like this, don't let it get to you. You have to learn to deal with it..."
"The media, the rumors, the pressure—it's all part of the price of admission."
Link smiled—a real, relaxed smile.
"I'll remember that, sir."
The door closed behind him.
---
When he returned to the locker room, most of his teammates had already left.
Only Kobe was still sitting in front of his locker, icing his knees.
"How'd it go?" Kobe asked without looking up.
Link walked to his locker and started changing.
"Trade's dead. Dr. Buss killed it personally."
Kobe's hand paused on the ice pack for a second, then continued adjusting it.
"He's right. Those other guys don't know your value."
Kobe looked up, staring seriously into Link's eyes.
"Don't let it affect you. Just be yourself."
---