Chapter 7: Confusion
With a thunderbolt from the blue sky, James opted out of his contract and returned to Cleveland. The Cavaliers then traded their No. 1 pick to the Timberwolves in exchange for the top-tier power forward, Kevin Love. The entire league was shaken! The once-invincible Miami Heat had fallen from the throne, and no one saw it coming. Just last season, the Heat were aiming for a historic three-peat, and now, they crumbled in an instant!
Jake, who had been calmly going through reports in his office, suddenly stood up, his heart racing. History's inertia was unstoppable—James had finally made his inevitable return to Cleveland.
"This is my moment," Jake thought, his mind churning with possibilities. The storm James caused by shaking up the league was exactly the chaos Jake needed to exploit.
Soon, the headlines hit: the Kings had made a trade. Jake had shipped Fredette and a first-round pick (top-five protected in 2017) to the Trail Blazers in exchange for second-year rookie CJ McCollum! The news sent waves through the league. Most scoffed at the move. Fredette had been a disappointment, notorious for being a defensive liability despite his shooting prowess. He'd become the poster child for the Kings' failed drafts.
For CJ, who had been woken up by his agent with the news of his move to Sacramento, the trade felt like a nightmare. His mood soured instantly. Sure, the Blazers had a tough reputation when it came to developing rookies, but they were still a playoff team in the West, with Lillard and Aldridge leading the charge. The Kings? They were chaos personified. Cousins might have the talent, but how could he compare to Aldridge?
Back at Kings' training camp, Jake watched from the sidelines, confident in his gamble. He knew what CJ McCollum would become: a future star, part of the "Blazers' twin guns" alongside Lillard, and later, the leader of the Pelicans after Zion's injury. Jake could already see the potential in McCollum. As long as the right opportunities were given, CJ would flourish in Sacramento.
"Coach, I have a few ideas for the team's tactics next season," Jake said, turning to Mike Malone, the Kings' head coach. He smiled, knowing full well he had more pull than Malone on this team, but was careful to frame his thoughts as just suggestions.
Malone, who had been skeptical at first, couldn't hide his satisfaction. Jake's latest moves were impressive—Mozgov, added in the trade, had already showcased his defensive prowess in just one scrimmage, while CJ's abilities on the court were undeniable. Malone was left wondering why Portland had let him go for so little.
In one practice session, CJ had already won over the coaching staff with his soft shooting touch, excellent ball handling, and the ability to command the offense. More importantly, his presence on the floor opened up space for Ben McLemore, who had struggled last season but was now thriving in the new system.
Ben McLemore and CJ had both been drafted in the same year, with Ben ranked even higher. But without proper spacing or an organized offense, Ben's development had stalled. Now, with CJ commanding attention on the perimeter, Ben could finally show off his shooting skills, breathing life into his career.
Portland's loss was Sacramento's gain.
"This year's trade market is wild," Jake said, leaning against the doorframe of Malone's office. "I've done my part, adding depth and talent to the team. But how they perform—that's all you." He reached into his suit pocket, instinctively searching for a cigarette, only to remember the no-smoking policy in the arena. With a small chuckle, he lowered his hand.
Malone, noticing the gesture, grinned. "Let's talk in my office."
Jake smirked, giving him a knowing look, and the two headed inside.
Meanwhile, out on the court, Rudy Gay was yelling out, "Hey! McLemore!"
Suddenly, three heads turned in response. Rudy blinked in confusion, realizing the team now had not one, but three McLemores: Ben, Ray McCallum, and CJ McCollum. The coincidence had left the team in a bit of a naming dilemma.
Rudy scratched his head, laughing, "Alright, this has to stop. We're gonna need some nicknames or something, 'cause I'm not about to mix you all up during a game!"
Even Mozgov, standing nearby, couldn't help but chuckle at the confusion. The Kings might have been a team of misfits, but they were starting to come together—and Jake was pulling the strings to make sure of it.
Following Malone into the head coach's office, Jake dragged the ashtray closer and lit a cigarette, taking a long, contemplative drag. Although he hadn't been a heavy smoker before, the pressures of being the general manager had woven a dependency into his daily routine. It was a comfort in the midst of chaos.
"Mike, I want to talk to you about the upcoming draft," Jake said, leaning back in his chair. The words piqued Malone's interest immediately. What had started as mere curiosity had blossomed into a deep respect for Jake; he had quickly become a vital ally in team management. While Jake's recent trades might have seemed lackluster, they had undeniably strengthened the roster.
"I plan to take Zach LaVine with our No. 11 pick," Jake continued.
Malone's mind raced back to the young player. LaVine was a thin, athletic guard with a clean-cut look, and his highlight reel featured a breathtaking 360-degree dunk that had left a lasting impression during his tryout. "Zach LaVine?" Malone pondered. "His game is flashy, but his jump shot lacks consistency. At No. 11, that feels like a reach. He'd be better suited for a later position."
Jake couldn't help but silently commend Malone's judgment. In his own historical knowledge, LaVine had been picked 13th by the Timberwolves—a precursor to the trend of selecting guards in the post-Kobe era.
"You're spot on," Jake nodded, appreciating Malone's insight. "But I still want him. I trust my vision. We've got good shooters in Ben and Ray, but we need a secondary ball-handler. I can't have Thornton running the show while CJ's off the floor!"
Malone winced at Jake's words. Thornton had been the main engine last season, yet his inability to connect the team effectively was glaring. Sure, player configuration had contributed to the chaos, but the truth was, Thornton simply wasn't delivering the support needed.
"So, I'd like you to center the team's offense around CJ next season," Jake added, confident in his directive.
Malone nodded in agreement. Even without prompting, he recognized CJ's superior potential over Thornton.
Jake continued, "As for LaVine, if we draft him, I hope you'll give him some ball rights and maybe even design a few plays for him. We need to change our reputation with rookies; it starts this year."
Malone furrowed his brow, considering the implications. "If we do that, our backcourt might get too crowded. With the three McLemores and LaVine joining Thornton, that's five guards fighting for playing time."
"That's a valid concern," Jake replied after a moment of thought. "I'll handle it. Thornton still has trade value; I'll explore some options there."
Just as Malone thought their conversation was concluding, Jake added, "One last thing—I've set my sights on a rookie. His draft stock isn't high, but he's got potential. If it's convenient, I'd like to bring him by later for your thoughts."
Jake chuckled, self-deprecatingly adding, "You know how we like to dig for gems in overlooked places."
Malone laughed, recognizing Jake's reference to the Spurs' famed knack for unearthing hidden talent. They'd thrived on finding diamonds in the rough, molding them into stars through their exceptional training system.
"Got it. Happy hunting, then," Malone said with a grin.
Jake smiled back, a spark of excitement igniting within him. He extinguished the cigarette in the ashtray with a satisfying finality, ready to embark on the next chapter of his quest to reshape the Kings.