Chapter 107: Boring Trade Deadline

Peja let out a loud yawn, setting off a chain reaction in the office. One by one, others followed suit, creating a wave of sleepy sighs and groans. Jake, sitting at his desk, ran his fingers through his hair in frustration as the chorus of exhaustion continued.

"Alright, that's enough!" Jake rapped his knuckles on the wooden table, his voice cutting through the noise. "If you're all this tired, go home and get some sleep. We don't have any trades to handle right now, so why are you all loitering here?"

It baffled Jake. For over two months, he'd been rejecting every trade application that crossed his desk. Yet, tonight, the office was packed, with everyone staying late as if some grand event were about to unfold.

"We can't leave!" Divac yawned again, his voice unbothered. "It's tradition. This is how it's done in the league—it's practically sacred law!"

Jake nearly choked on the water he was drinking. "You, of all people, Divac? With that beard, you're playing the tradition card?"

Peja, rubbing his red, weary eyes, chimed in. "We need first-hand updates. If we analyze everything tonight, we'll understand the moves other teams are making."

Jake rolled his eyes. "Can't that wait until the morning? Honestly, I thought Americans didn't like being unreasonable. Turns out you're just as stubborn and dogmatic!"

As the group bantered, the hour hand crept closer to midnight. Despite his earlier complaints, Jake found himself swept up in the anticipation.

Finally, the clock struck twelve, and the buzz began. Schmitz's phone vibrated first.

"Boss," Schmitz said, reading the screen. "The Thunder just sent DJ Augustin, Steve Novak, and two second-round picks to the Nuggets for Randy Foye!"

"Steel coins for dimes," Jake said with a laugh. "The Thunder might be losing out, but for the Nuggets, this is gold. Two players and two picks for a soon-to-be free agent? Connelly can sleep like a king tonight."

One notification turned into many. Phones across the office lit up as news broke about trades across the league.

"The Wizards made a move," Divac announced, his tone more serious. "They sent Humphries, DeJuan Blair, and three second-round picks to the Suns for Markieff Morris."

"Big Morris?" Jake's interest piqued. He leaned forward, finally a little engaged. "Morris is still a solid forward. I guess the Wizards are patching up their weaknesses and gambling on a playoff run. Let's just hope they can make it work before April."

Another buzz.

"The Pistons," Peja said, "traded Ilyasova and Jennings to the Magic for Tobias Harris."

Jake nodded knowingly. "This one makes sense. The Pistons are locking Reggie Jackson in as their core, so Jennings had to go. The Magic, on the other hand, are looking to give Gordon more time to shine. It's a win-win, though nothing groundbreaking."

But the trades, as interesting as they were, weren't exactly setting the room on fire. Jake sighed and propped his chin in his hand. "That's it? A few minor moves? This is what we stayed up all night for?"

Peja scanned his notes for something more compelling. "Uh… The Clippers sent Lance Stephenson and a future first-round pick to the Grizzlies for Jeff Green."

Jake chuckled. "So, the Clippers are dumping the 'King of Chaos' for a utility guy who can cover the 3 or 4 spots. Makes sense. And the first-round pick? Who cares—Rivers doesn't even use rookies."

As the room deflated, Jake leaned back in his chair, clearly unimpressed. "Seriously? That's it? A bunch of underwhelming moves, and all in the East? We're not even going to face these teams in the playoffs."

Peja scratched his head, looking sheepish. "Yeah, that's about it."

Jake stood up, grabbing the suit jacket hanging on the back of his chair. "Alright, folks, show's over. Get some rest. And don't bother scheduling a meeting tomorrow morning—we've got nothing to discuss."

Yawning, he turned on his heel and walked out without a second glance, leaving his team behind to clean up the remnants of their wasted night.

Jake was right to be bored. All the hype and noise had led to nothing more than small trades with minimal impact. As he stepped into the quiet night, he couldn't help but think, This league sure knows how to keep things underwhelming.