Chapter 378: Preparing for the All-Star Game
“These votes just aren’t going up!”
Chen Yilun stared at the report in front of him, a dull ache forming in his teeth.
“What’s going on here? Is our promotion still not strong enough?”
He said it casually, but Graham, sitting across from him, was already drenched in sweat.
“No way, boss. The PR department is already going all out. Every campaign features all four of them together. But the numbers just won’t rise—I don’t get it either.”
As time went on, the fight for All-Star spots had officially begun. On the Kings’ side, Durant was a lock as a starter, and Butler was a rock-solid All-Star as well. That left Jokić and Booker.
Jokić already had All-Star experience, and after the season tipped off, he’d evolved even further.
It was easy to imagine that if Durant and Butler weren’t both there holding down the hierarchy, Jokić’s performances would be even more explosive.
At this point, Jokić was already showing the makings of the league’s top center—he was just waiting for the right moment to take off.
So even if his vote count didn’t look especially eye-catching, he was still more or less guaranteed an All-Star reserve spot.
The only one really feeling the squeeze this year was Booker, whom the team had only recently started pushing hard.
Even with Sacramento doing everything it could to promote him, he was still hovering on the edge of the All-Star cutoff, in a spot where he could be pushed out at any time.
“This isn’t really his fault,”
McNair spoke up from the side.
With both Peja and Divac gone, the pressure on the people left behind had increased sharply.
Peja and Divac might not have been particularly strong in terms of professional ability, but they were two of the few people on the team who could keep Chen Yilun—the hyena—somewhat in check.
Now that both of them were gone, Chen Yilun had immediately started acting a lot more unchecked.
McNair was still doing fine. After all, his main responsibility was player contract renewals, and there hadn’t been many chances for him to step into the spotlight lately.
Graham, on the other hand, was having a rough time.
In the past, he’d worked alongside Peja managing the team’s internal operations, with Peja—the longtime veteran—always stepping in first whenever something came up.
But once Peja left, the weight on Graham’s shoulders instantly multiplied.
The team’s results were skyrocketing, but turning that massive surge in attention into real money was entirely Graham’s problem.
With that kind of pressure bearing down on him, Graham had visibly grown more haggard over the past couple of days.
Even his hairline was starting to look thinner.
“Boss, what I mean is…”
Seeing that Chen Yilun didn’t look genuinely angry, Graham finally worked up the nerve to speak.
“Right now, three All-Stars is already the limit of what Sacramento as a city can handle. If we’re determined to push Booker up there, we’ll have to find another angle somewhere else.”
Graham’s words were basically spelling it out for Chen Yilun.
Sacramento might sound impressive as California’s capital, but anyone familiar with the North American landscape knew the truth.
It was a city that sat awkwardly in the middle—better than some, worse than others.
California was a major state, and in theory the Kings should’ve had a geographical advantage.
Unfortunately, the fanbase was spread far too thin.
Los Angeles, the most prosperous city in California, had both the Lakers and the Clippers. Up north, the Warriors were still pulling in massive attention.
That left Sacramento, the state capital, as the weakest presence instead.
“Where am I supposed to find more votes for you at this point?”
Chen Yilun rubbed his temples, clearly annoyed.
“Boss… what about you? Don’t you still have some pull back in China?”
Graham spoke while frantically shooting him meaningful looks.
“Me? Oh—you mean the votes over there?”
Chen Yilun paused for a moment, then immediately understood why Graham had been venting to him. He wanted to borrow Chen Yilun’s influence in China to give Booker a boost.
“I’ll think about it.”
After a moment’s consideration, Chen Yilun didn’t give Graham a clear answer.
He’d long since passed the stage where he needed the Chinese market to prop up his own value. On top of that, over the past two years he’d deliberately kept his distance from that side of the basketball world.
After all, Chen Yilun wasn’t a player. His influence there only extended to a limited group of longtime fans.
If he were willing to speak up, plenty of people in China would respond.
But that would mean owing favors.
And favors were the hardest debts to repay. Chen Yilun genuinely feared that one day someone might use that leverage to force their way into the team.
If it ever came to that, the image he’d spent years building would collapse completely.
“I’ll think about it again later,”
Chen Yilun said, waving his hand.
Seeing that Chen Yilun couldn’t make up his mind right away, Graham and McNair exchanged a look and wisely left his office.
After sitting alone for a while, lost in thought, Chen Yilun glanced at the time difference and finally made a long-distance call.
“Chairman Chen! What a surprise—how do I deserve a call from you today?”
A few minutes later, an overly enthusiastic, almost fawning voice came through the phone.
“Mr. Liu, I’ve got a deal here. Interested?”
Chen Yilun said with a smile.
This Mr. Liu was the executive who had coordinated with Chen Yilun back when he brought CJ and LaVine onto a major Chinese platform.
As Chen Yilun continued to grow in stature, that side had naturally begun to place more importance on him as well.
Mr. Liu clearly treated Chen Yilun as a valuable personal resource, handling all direct communication between them.
“A deal? That’s great! If Chairman Chen is offering it, of course we’re doing it!”
“You’re not even going to ask what kind of deal it is?”
“Hahahaha!”
Mr. Liu burst into laughter on the other end.
“Anything Chairman Chen puts on the table has to be good. What’s there to ask?”
“I heard you’ve been looking for new NBA players lately. How about I line up two for you?”
“Absolutely!”
It was still early in the day in China. Hearing Chen Yilun’s words, Liu—who had just arrived at the office—jumped up from his chair in excitement.
If you asked which NBA team was the hottest right now, it was undoubtedly the Sacramento Kings.
Even the newly assembled Lakers superteam had to steer clear of the Kings’ edge.
There was no mystery to it. Competitive sports were all about hard power. Before the Lakers had won a championship, the Kings—riding back-to-back titles—were the undisputed leaders.
“I can send Jokić and Booker over to support you,”
Chen Yilun said lazily, one leg crossed over the other.
“But in exchange, you need to go all out again—just like before—and push Jokić and Booker’s All-Star votes with everything you’ve got.”
It was never about transfers or contracts. Chen Yilun had no intention of moving either player. What he was offering was access—media exposure, promotional appearances, and coordinated fan campaigns overseas. Jokić and Booker would remain Kings through and through; their images and momentum, however, would be used to rally votes and amplify their presence during the All-Star race.
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