After repaying Popovich by fulfilling a favor, Jake returned his attention to the Kings' daily operations. He barely had time to settle in when the team's financial director approached him, clearly distressed.
"We're barely seeing an increase! We're losing so much money!" the financial director exclaimed, waving the weekly financial statements. "The first three games of the season were sold out, and ticket sales are already up by 10% compared to last season, but it's still not enough!" His frustration was evident.
Jake smiled calmly, trying to reassure him. "We're in good shape. Sure, we could make more, but this is only the beginning of the season. Fans are hyped right now, but it'll dip during the mid-season lull. Our pricing strategy is sound."
The director looked skeptical, his face resembling someone who just ate a sour lemon. "We sold out the Raptors game instantly. I can't help but think we could've raised ticket prices by at least 5% without a problem."
Jake chuckled, shaking his head. "Quick price hikes might increase revenue short-term, but it doesn't build fan loyalty. We've got tons of new fans this year, and we need to keep them engaged. Slow and steady wins the race."
As he finished his sentence, Jake's eyes drifted to the calendar on his desk. Today marked the Raptors' visit to Sacramento, and he had an inkling it would be an exciting matchup. If the Raptors followed their current trajectory, Kyle Lowry and DeMar DeRozan were on track for a breakout season, making the Raptors a strong contender in the Eastern Conference.
"Make sure to arrange my seat for tonight's game. I'll be doing some 'market research,'" Jake announced with a grin. His so-called "market research" was a convenient excuse for catching games live on the company dime. Plus, he'd even get overtime pay for it—truly, he thought to himself, a genius move.
As night fell, the Kings' home arena buzzed with energy as countless fans lined up, streaming in like an endless river. From Jake's view up high, the scene was as captivating as an ant migration.
"When did Sacramento's basketball scene get this wild? It feels like a playoff game!" Kyle Lowry commented, looking out at the packed stands as he warmed up.
"The new management's doing a good job," DeRozan replied, dribbling effortlessly. "California's packed with people—can't hurt to be in this state."
Sacramento, the state's capital, had historically been a small basketball market, but under Jake's management, the tide was turning. More and more Sacramento locals were embracing the Kings, a testament to the importance of a strong, engaged community. The Raptors, on the other hand, were situated in Toronto, one of the largest cities in Canada, yet the city's smaller population and regional sports interests meant that Toronto's fan base faced a ceiling that even excellent management struggled to break through.
As the teams took to the court, the Raptors put forth their regular lineup: Lowry, DeRozan, Valanciunas, Scola, and Carroll, a talented pickup from the Hawks. The Kings, however, didn't play their strongest lineup that night, fielding CJ, Ben, Crowder, Young, and Jokic. LaVine, who'd sprained his ankle in practice two days earlier, and Gay, who claimed he had food poisoning, were both seated on the sidelines in suits. Jake observed Gay, who appeared far too lively for someone supposedly sidelined by illness. He'd have to have a word with him later about the mysterious "diarrhea" excuse.
With the jump ball, Jokic managed to edge out Valanciunas, tipping it to CJ, who began advancing down the court. In the TNT studio, Sir Charles Barkley rubbed his hands together, eager to see what new tricks the Kings might have up their sleeves.
"Here we go! Let's see if the Kings have any surprises for us tonight," Barkley said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. The Kings' creativity and adaptability had made them one of his favorites to watch—Barkley, like many fans, appreciated teams that brought excitement and unpredictability to the court.
As CJ dribbled across half-court, Ben, stationed to the right of the arc, had his body pressed against DeRozan, angling for a strong inside position. But as CJ advanced, Ben suddenly pivoted and darted out toward the 45-degree angle. DeRozan was caught off guard, a half-step too slow to react. Ben raced to his new spot, with CJ shifting the ball in his direction. But, just as Ben received the pass, he whipped it right back to CJ before cutting toward the top of the arc.
The hand-off was a clever ploy to pull both Lowry and DeRozan toward the corner, freeing Ben to make his escape. DeRozan struggled to keep up, already lagging behind as Ben shot toward the top. Crowder stepped in to set a flare screen, buying Ben a split-second advantage to widen the distance.
Now, Carroll, tasked with guarding Crowder, was forced to make a choice: stay with Crowder or switch to cover Ben, who was now breaking free. Carroll opted to defend Ben, retreating toward the paint in hopes of blocking the pass. But CJ, ever aware, lobbed the ball just out of reach, landing perfectly in Ben's hands.
With a quick survey of the court, Ben took stock: DeRozan trailed behind him, and Carroll was too deep in the three-second zone to catch up. He seized the moment, planting his feet and launching a pass back to the open Crowder at the top of the arc.
With a smooth motion, Crowder released the shot. The ball arced beautifully through the air and fell cleanly into the net. The crowd erupted, the roar echoing throughout the arena as fans celebrated the seamless execution.