Chapter 85: Tug of war

Jake glanced at the caller ID and felt a smile tug at his lips. He paused, taking a deep breath to compose himself before answering. Finally, he pressed the answer button.

"Gar! What a surprise. What's the occasion for your call today?" Jake greeted, his tone lighthearted. The caller was none other than Gar Forman, the long-serving general manager of the Chicago Bulls. Forman, a respected figure, had overseen the Bulls' roster following the legendary GM Jerry Krause, drafting players like Derrick Rose, Jimmy Butler, and Joakim Noah.

"You know why I'm calling, and you still ask," Forman chuckled. "You've been after Jimmy for quite some time now."

Indeed, it was no secret in the league that Jake valued hard-nosed defenders, and his interest in Jimmy Butler, the rising star of the Bulls, was well-known. Butler, who had recently contended for the Most Improved Player award, had caught Jake's attention long ago. Last offseason, Jake had even dangled DeMarcus Cousins in trade talks for Butler, though the deal fell through when Cousins set his sights on joining the Wizards and the Bulls' roster needs didn't align.

But now, Jake felt the time might be right to revisit the topic. Compared to Cousins, LaVine was arguably a more appealing prospect for the Bulls—a versatile young player with a promising 3-and-D skillset. And with Derrick Rose making a highly anticipated return to the court, Chicago fans were placing renewed trust in the talented point guard. However, Rose's comeback meant that Butler's role had subtly shifted, causing some friction. A player of Butler's intensity and pride wasn't exactly content with a reduced role, even if it meant deferring to Rose.

Ironically, if Jake didn't swoop in, Butler might eventually end up with the Timberwolves—a team that would ultimately trade for him by sending away a rising star named Zach LaVine.

"You're right," Jake replied with a laugh, "I am interested in Butler, but I'm not so desperate that I'd go all-in to make it happen."

The exchange of banter between GMs was both a game and an art. Deals could come together overnight or after months of delicate negotiation, with both sides leveraging every possible angle: player potential, age, injury history, family background, and even genetic factors. It reminded Jake of his mother's morning trips to the local market, where she haggled passionately over a few cents. Sometimes, he mused, she'd make a great GM herself.

"Whatever you say, Jake," Forman responded easily. "But we both know you've had your eye on Butler for ages. You're just acting reserved to try and throw me off."

Jake shrugged off Forman's words with a grin. "What can I say? LaVine caught your attention too, huh?" he quipped. "Using him to clear space for Rose and pretend like I'm robbing you blind."

Forman wasn't about to let Jake off that easily. "Oh, I know all about your LaVine," Forman countered with a steely tone. "Sure, he's putting up some impressive games, but with a sample size this small, it's hardly proof of anything. To me, he's still a high-potential 3-and-D guy in the making."

Jake felt a wry smile form. Forman had just attempted to downgrade LaVine from a budding star to an unproven prospect with a carefully delivered jab.

"If that's how you see it, maybe we don't have much to discuss after all," Jake replied, his fingers tracing idle patterns on the edge of his desk. "But if you're serious, make me a real offer."

"Then you go first," Forman shot back. "What's your price?"

Jake didn't hesitate. "LaVine and three second-round picks for your Jimmy."

The line was silent for a beat before Forman's response came, punctuated with a mix of exasperation and amusement. "You want Jimmy, my second-in-command, without even a single first-rounder in return? Dream on, Jake."

"Fine," Jake countered, upping the stakes. "LaVine plus three first-round picks. Fair enough?"

Forman was quick to counter with a sharp offer. "Throw in both your 2018 first-rounder and the Wizards' 2018 first-round pick. No less."

Jake barked a laugh, genuinely caught off guard. "Are you serious? You want two high-value first-rounders on top of LaVine? When I traded Cousins, it cost just two first-round picks and a swap right. You're pricing Jimmy like prime real estate!"

Forman barely blinked at Jake's incredulity. "That's the going rate for my Jimmy," he replied coolly, unfazed.

Jake shook his head, gritting his teeth in mock frustration. "You capitalist bloodsuckers are all the same."

Forman chuckled in reply. "We're cut from the same cloth, you and I. No point in playing coy."

The two men ended the call on a friendly yet unresolved note, each fully aware that this was only round one in what could be a long game. Midseason trades were often a marathon rather than a sprint, with plenty of time to test the waters and negotiate terms. There was half a season left, plenty of time to leverage assets, scout needs, and edge out every possible advantage from their tradeable players.

Jake leaned back in his chair, his mind racing with potential trade angles. Each deal was like a chess game, requiring patience and planning. He knew that as the season wore on, leverage could shift, and Forman might soften his stance on Butler—or Jake might discover a new angle entirely.

As he pondered his next move, his phone buzzed with another call. Seeing the number, Jake allowed himself a satisfied smile. Another contender, another opportunity.

"Well, looks like I'm in for a long season," he murmured as he picked up the call, ready for another round in the NBA's high-stakes chess game.