"Seriously, man... I wouldn't be calling if this wasn't about something important," Curry grumbled into the phone. "You got the gift I sent?"
"Yep. Nice shirt. Thanks for that, by the way," Lin Yi replied with a small chuckle. "And Stephen? You've been playing smoothly lately. Don't be shy out there—if you've got the look, take the shot."
Curry sighed. "Appreciate it. But you know how it is—people keep saying shoot more, be more aggressive... sometimes it feels like code for 'keep us bad a little longer.'"
"You're overthinking it," Lin replied calmly. "You've got the green light for a reason. Just do your thing."
The gift Curry had sent was a custom T-shirt—tailored, because Lin's height made normal clothes impractical. Curry's tone was half-joking, half-serious. He wasn't just calling about the shirt. He was venting.
Truth be told, Lin understood why. The Warriors were 8–11—not terrible, but not great either. Still, they were trending better than Lin remembered.
"Stephen, you do realize this team has potential, right? I mean, David Lee's there. Boogie's in town. Defense still needs a lot of work, but offensively... y'all can hurt people."
"Sure, sure... But potential doesn't win games. I'm not trying to go out there and just be a highlight. I want to win, man."
Lin nodded, even though Curry couldn't see it. He understood that feeling. He'd been in those shoes when he lost the NCAA Final. The thing still hurts.
"Look, you guys just got new ownership, right? Joe Lacob and Peter Guber? These guys look serious. It's not just about throwing money around either—they've got a plan."
"Yeah, that's what they're saying. And rumor is they're trying to get someone big into the front office."
Lin's eyes narrowed slightly. He already had a good idea.
"Jerry West?" Lin murmured.
"What?"
"It's nothing. Just thinking who they're bringing in."
In truth, Lin had suspected West for a while. The kind of structured chaos happening in Golden State... it had a familiar smell. The kind Jerry West seemed to stir up everywhere he went.
West didn't just build teams—he architected dynasties. Lakers in the '80s. Another Lakers title run in the late 2000s. And if memory serves, he helped orchestrate that Gasol trade that practically handed Kobe two more rings.
The man rarely missed as an executive.
"I wouldn't be surprised if people were whispering in the owners' ears," Lin continued. "And if the management wants to rebuild something new, starting with moving Monta isn't a bad first step."
"Funny you mention that," Curry replied. "I haven't heard from Monta in days. My agent said Monta's camp is shopping him—he wants out."
Lin raised an eyebrow. "So it begins."
"What does?"
"Our era."
Curry chuckled. "You make it sound like we are about to take over the league."
Lin didn't say anything at first. Just let the silence hang.
Because deep down, he knew it wasn't a matter of if—just when.
Their conversation drifted to other teams. Lin gave his read on the league's current landscape:
The Mavericks, despite missing out on Tyson Chandler, were grinding hard with Okafor in the middle. Not pretty, but effective.
The Spurs? Still the Spurs. Lin swore that the team had a secret factory in San Antonio that printed quality players.
The Rockets? Holding on, barely, thanks to Yao's return. And Miami? Still struggling to find rhythm, but it was just a matter of time before those three stars figured it out.
"You keeping an eye on the Nuggets thing?" Lin asked.
"Yeah, I heard New York passed on the Melo deal. Nuggets are just letting it play out, right?"
"Pretty much. Cavs are poking around too, but they want to see how the 2011 rookie class shakes out first. That pick is their only real trade chip."
"You think Melo moves before the deadline?"
"If I had to guess? Probably."
They talked for hours—about basketball, life, and team politics. The kind of deep conversation only ballers could have. Lin realized it had been a long time since he'd talked to another player like this.
The league had changed a lot since he arrived. Teams that were supposed to be strong were still strong. The future felt familiar... and yet completely unpredictable.
"Stephen, haven't seen Monta give you any trouble lately, huh?"
"Nah. He's distant. Doesn't talk to me anymore. Honestly, feels like he's already got one foot out the door."
"That's probably for the best," Lin said. "Your backcourt needs clarity. You need the keys."
Curry paused. Then sighed. "Man, I hope you're right."
After a beat of silence, Curry changed the subject.
"Hey, heard you're entering the three-point contest?"
Lin laughed. "Want to join?"
"Yeah. I'm thinking of joining too. Still salty about last year."
Lin suddenly felt cold sweat on his neck. If Curry was in, he'd have to bring his A-game.
"Let's talk about something else," Lin said, dodging. "Like how you're turning into a one-man highlight reel."
"You think so?"
"I know so."
They talked deep into the night. For three hours, the phone stayed pressed to their ears.
In a league defined by chaos, money, and media noise, something was grounding about two friends just talking hoops.
What Lin didn't know was that while he was chatting with Curry, a storm was brewing across the league. A move was coming. One that would shake up everything.
...
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