Inside the Knicks' draft war room.
Walsh slammed the phone back onto the receiver. He looked at D'Antoni, his face grim. "Mike, what's the move?"
"Trade! We move up now! We can't afford to gamble anymore!" D'Antoni said with absolute certainty. Luke's warning had pierced through their hesitation; the risk of Don Nelson snatching Curry was simply too high.
As a General Manager who had spent decades navigating the NBA, Walsh nodded in agreement. Before arriving in New York, he had run the Indiana Pacers for 17 years, missing the playoffs only once in nearly two decades. His most legendary move came in 1987 when he ignored the local outrage in Indiana, bypassed college star Steve Alford, and drafted Reggie Miller instead. Decades later, Alford was a footnote, and Miller was the soul of the Pacers.
With such a pedigree, Donnie Walsh's business acumen was razor-sharp. He wasn't a man to ignore a credible threat. "Then we trade up," he said, before pausing. "Wait, what about Luke Thorne? Austin said the Raptors are eyeing him at nine."
Even if Austin's tip was a bluff, Luke was guaranteed to go in the top 20 now that the video of him locking down Melo had gone viral. If the Knicks stayed at eight, they'd likely miss out on him entirely.
D'Antoni scanned the draft board, looking at the assets and pick ownership of every team. "What if..." he mused, "we trade for both the fifth and sixth picks from Minnesota?"
"Impossible. If you just wanted one of them, I might have a chance. Both?" Walsh shook his head. Twenty years of experience told him that was a bridge too far.
"Isn't the new Timberwolves GM one of your old proteges?" D'Antoni asked.
Walsh slapped his forehead. "How did I forget that? David is running the show in Minnesota now." A smile tugged at Walsh's lips as he pictured the young man's face. "Maybe... I can make it work."
At that moment, the Sacramento Kings were finalizing their selection. The Timberwolves, holding both the fifth and sixth picks, were up next.
Ring... ring...
In the Timberwolves' war room, David Kahn picked up the phone. "Hello?"
"David, congratulations on the new gig," Walsh started, keeping his tone casual. Kahn had spent nine years in the Pacers' front office under Walsh.
"Haha, Donnie! I owe a lot of that to you. I learned from the best," Kahn laughed. He genuinely respected Walsh; those nine years between 1995 and 2004 had been his masterclass in management.
"David, I'll be brief. We want your fifth and sixth picks."
"Oh?" Kahn had only been on the job for a month, replacing Kevin McHale. He was eager to make a splash and prove himself. "That's impossible, Donnie."
"Is it? David, I'll give you our first-round pick this year and our first-rounder next year. I know you want Ricky Rubio. If you give us the fifth pick, you can still grab him at eight—the Warriors won't take him; they have Monta. Rubio isn't coming to the NBA this year anyway, so you can spend next season tanking. And next year? Next year is a loaded draft."
Walsh began to dismantle Kahn's resistance piece by piece. "Look at the 2010 class: Evan Turner, Derrick Favors, Wesley Johnson, Gordon Hayward, DeMarcus Cousins—elite bigs and wings. If you tank correctly, you'll have a top lottery pick, plus our first-rounder. Do you really think the Knicks are making the playoffs next year?"
Kahn began to crunch the numbers. This year was considered a "weak" draft; next year was the real jackpot. If the Knicks stayed bad, Minnesota could walk away with two lottery picks in a superstar-heavy draft. The thought of adding 2010 talent alongside a future Rubio debut made Kahn's mouth water.
He felt a warm glow. Walsh really was a great mentor—he was practically handing Kahn a legacy on a silver platter. But he wouldn't fold too easily. "You have to send a player too."
The Kings had just finished selecting Tyreke Evans. Evans was already walking onto the stage. The Timberwolves were officially on the clock. Walsh had less than five minutes.
"Who do you want? David Lee? Al Harrington?" Walsh asked, his voice hurried.
"No, no. We have Al Jefferson and Kevin Love—Love is a good kid. I want a wing. How about Wilson Chandler?"
Walsh turned to D'Antoni. Chandler was a coach's favorite—tough, decisive, and productive, averaging 14.4 points and 5.6 rebounds as the starting shooting guard.
D'Antoni did the mental math for less than three seconds. Luke and Steph, or Wilson Chandler? Chandler was good, but his ceiling wasn't higher than the combined potential of the Davidson duo's shooting and defense. "Do it!"
Walsh nodded and spoke into the receiver. "Deal."
"Excellent," Kahn chirped. He was ecstatic. He was convinced that the Knicks, who finished second-to-last in the East recently, would remain a basement dweller. He was certain he had just secured another lottery pick for himself.
But David Kahn didn't know Mike D'Antoni's plan. D'Antoni wasn't planning on tanking; he was planning on the playoffs.
Kahn sat back, sipping his coffee, already imagining himself as the savior of Minnesota, the man who finally stepped out of Kevin Garnett's shadow.