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12-28-2016, 06:13 PM
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Designated Red Shirt
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All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
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12-28-2016, 06:21 PM
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#2 |
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
The Many-Worlds Theory of quantum mechanics states that any action that has more than one possible result produces a split in the universe, producing a whole new reality that coexists with all the others.
In the fall of 1997, the NBA was near the end of, what historians would call, it’s ‘Golden Era.’ Players such as Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, Clyde Drexler, and more were coming near the end of their careers. Further, the NBA itself was in the middle of tense negotiations for a new CBA. The NBA was on the verge of entering into a lockout the next year, wiping away over a third of the regular season and doing serious damage to its public perception. Despite the third straight championship of the Bulls and Michael Jordan, the team would break up — Jordan would retire, Phil Jackson would as well, and Scottie Pippen would be traded. The Golden Era would end and it would be years before the NBA regained its reputation. But, in another reality, events would unfold differently … In early spring of 1998, the NBA would agree to a new CBA with the players, avoiding a costly lockout and securing labor peace once more. This, in turn, would alter the strategy of teams across the league as the Bulls made their way through the playoffs, facing the Jazz in the Finals, winning their sixth championship and completing their second three-peat. With no lockout, the NBA’s offseason began almost immediately following the Finals and the game’s biggest star decided to continue playing … forever altering the course of NBA history. **** Ch. 1 6/15/98 There was no phone call, no fax, no press conference, not even a damned telegram. All he got — all his agent got — was a simple, straight email. “So, that’s that, then.” He puffed out a cloud of smoke, the feel of the cigar in his mouth a relief in a way — normal, expected. He only allowed himself three in the offseason and only in offseason’s where he won a title. This was his last one. He had smoked the first one the night of the championship. He had smoked the next one the night after. And now, as the sun descended into the horizon, the long Chicago summer day ending, he allowed himself this last one. One last victory cigar before he had to get back to it. “What do you want to do, Mike?” George, former center turned agent, towered over him even sitting down. But George wasn’t intimidating anymore — he had been when Michael was a rookie, but that was a long time ago. Now, George was a man in his fifties and a businessman at that. He no longer swatted balls away from the hoop so much as he swatted weak offers away from his clients. Michael let out another puff of smoke, his eyes focused on the horizon, in the direction of the city. “He won’t offer Phil.” Not a question, a fact. Reinsdorf was always known to be cheap — they had to negotiate hard to get Michael the salary he was owned the last two years and that salary had been promised to him. But Michael had never believed the Bulls would let Phil walk without even trying to talk him down. He had the privilege, the honor, of winning titles in six of the last eight years. Six titles … two three-peats … a changing cast of teammates, but teammates who all bought in. The only constants over all six titles were Phil and Scottie. George took off his glasses and wiped the lenses with his tie — especially long considering George’s height. “Krause won’t budge. He is adamant Jackson is gone. And Jackson won’t come back unless Krause is fired and Reinsdorf won’t fire him, so …” He put his glasses on and offered a shrug. “That’s it. It’s over.” “For them.” Michael set his cigar down and went over to the bar to pour them a drink. “I’m not done.” He took out a bottle of aged scotch and poured two glasses, the gears in his mind turning. “If they want to break us up, leave us for dead, then let them. But they won’t break me.” “You suit up for someone else, Chicago will hate you.” Michael handed him the scotch and sat back down, taking a swig of it. The burn felt good. “So be it,” he said simply. “It’s time to move onto something new … if Chicago isn’t where I’m going to finish, then that gives us options.” George looked over him for a long moment before taking a deep drink of his own glass. “Options,” he said hesitantly. “Reinsdorf outright rejected our proposal — and not many owners in this league will accept it, either.” “Don’t need many. Just need one.” He picked his cigar back up and took a drag, letting the smoke leak slowly from his nose. “I’m still the best. The league is still playing. There’s still a title to win.” “Not denying any of that, Mike.” George set his glass down and took out a small notebook from his pocket — it looked like a toy in his large hands — and flipped it open. “I floated the idea out there through a few back-channels, nothing close to official … only got two bites, really. And only one of those was ready to commit to it, in writing, if you agreed to a few conditions.” He finished his drink and put out his cigar, turning his full attention to his agent. “What conditions?” **** 6/17/98 Life was funny sometimes. As he stirred his drink — he had lost count of how many times he’d stirred it — Thomas Malone wished he could step outside and light up a cigar. The evening was beautiful, perfect for a drink and a cigar, but this restaurant, despite being supposedly ‘high class’ was an indoor-only facility and a non-smoking one at that. It had a gorgeous view of the city and the horizon, but that’s all it had, just a view. It was a colossal waste of space and potential for a place that could have been something special. Of course, what did he know about restaurants? He was just a lifelong basketball junky … he’d seen too much, done too much, and had spent the majority of his five decades on this planet sniffing sweaty courts where an orange ball went through a round hoop. “Maybe I’ve been stood up,” he mumbled to himself. He glanced at his watch — 8:23 PM — and frowned. “I could catch a movie I guess.” But his movie plans were dashed as the man he was meeting arrived. Simply dressed in a gray business suit, his stark-white hair seemed to be standing on end, his face reddened either from excitement or too much to drink. “You didn’t start without me?” Tom asked as he stood. Jim waved him off with a smile and sat down, his body seemingly radiating energy. Tom sat down as well and — considering how amped Jim was — took a swig of his drink. “Well?” “Well,” Jim said, nearly out of breath. “I have news.” “Good news?” Jim’s smile only increased. “The best news in the history of this city.” “That’s quite a proclamation.” His curiosity was getting the better of him — in the years he’d known Jim and in the months he’d worked with him, he’d never seen him quite this excited. “I assume you found someone to buy the team.” Jim leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Michael Jordan.” It took a moment to process that and, when Tom did, he was at a loss for words. In the history of two word answers, ‘Michael Jordan’ was as close to ‘Jesus Christ’ as it got in the basketball world. And there was no *ucking way it was true. “You are drunk. Severely so.” Jim reached out and squeezed his wrist, his smile a thousand watts and growing by the second. “He wants to own a basketball own when he retires, Tom. He wants to own this team.” Tom’s mind spun in a few dozen directions, but the one that was most shocking was by far the least believable. “Wait, wait … when he retires? You said when Michael Jordan retires?” “I did say that, yes. He’s not retiring. He’s signing with us.” “Bull*hit. Complete bull*hit.” The waiter arrived with Jim’s drink and a refill for Tom, but the current owner of the Sacramento Kings couldn’t be bothered with it. Tom, on the other hand, finished up his first drink and started on his second. He felt like he was going to pass out. “You’re not kidding,” he finally managed, the words slow to form. “You’re serious?” “Once free agency begins he’ll sign with us. He says he thinks he can play another year or two at least … maybe three.” “You’ve spoken with him?” “I’m not foolish enough to directly communicate … we’ve had exchanges between acquaintances, nothing officially official … but it’s very solid.” Jim sipped at his drink, the grin on his face refusing to disappear. “We’ve both agree that the team, in the meantime, needs to go in a different direction.” His eyes gleamed. “I’d like to name you as GM.” “Oh?” Jordan coming to the Kings was insane enough as it was — who could have possibly predicted that — but Jim wanting him as GM was the least surprising part of this insane conversation. Jim’s grin faded a bit. “You don’t seem enthused.” “I’m still in shock, give me a damned minute.” Tom slid his drink away — wouldn’t do much good now — and mulled the offer. Hell, he mulled it all … the Kings were a sad little franchise. They hadn’t had a winning season since 1982, had made the playoffs once since 1985, and, generally, were in a constant state of mediocrity. It was one of the reasons he had signed on as a consultant for Jim after the Rockets bought out his contract in February … if any team could use someone with some sense in the front office, the Kings were that team. “General Manager of the Sacramento Kings is already filled,” Tom pointed out. Jim waved it off. “Technically, but that will be taken care of as soon as you say yes.” “And why would I?” Tom leaned back, foot tapping below the table as he worked through it. “Michael Jordan certainly isn’t known to get along with his front office … at least, in recent years anyway.” “Jordan is precisely why you should sign on; he wants you.” “Me?” Tom let out a laugh. “Jordan knows who I am?” “He knows … from what I’m told, what you did with the Pistons, the Warriors, and the Rockets caught his attention. All teams that employed a peer of his and those peers seemed to think very highly of you.” “Probably because I was never the GM for any of those teams — just a consultant, a backroom dealer.” He finished off his second drink and slid the glass away, the alcohol calming his nerves. “It’s easy to be liked when you’re not making the moves, when you’re not pulling the trigger, when the agents don’t have to deal with you.” “It’s a chance — one you’ve passed up on before, Tom.” “For good reason.” “And now that reason is grown up and out of college, on her own.” Jim smiled. “Say yes, be a part of this — think of it!” Tom made a face. “I am and, let me tell you, I don’t know how to feel about it. You say he wants me?” “He does …” “But you want me there more than he does, right?” Jim’s eyes flashed guilt. “I made it a condition of our arrangement, yes.” “You’re forcing me on him? That’s sure to put me in Jordan’s good graces.” Jim waved his hand dismissively. “No, no, I didn’t specify you — I said a front office executive we could agree on, someone we both believed could get the job done. Your name came up … possibly because you and he share a mutual enemy.” “Krause.” Possibly one of Tom’s least favorite words. “What does he have to do with it?” “Jordan wants to prove Krause wrong … he wants to prove everyone wrong. The Bulls are over, we all know it, and Jackson is gone — who knows if he’ll ever come back. But Michael is still here and Michael is determined to prove the Bulls, Reinsdorf, and especially Krause wrong.” “Well, I can get behind that.” He took out a cigar from his pocket and stuck it in his mouth — he couldn’t smoke it, but by God he could stick it there. “So, this all hinges on me?” “Not all … but if you agree, we have a deal. If you don’t, we’ll have to rework it and that could make Michael reconsider. Maybe retire.” Jim locked eyes with him. “Do this for me, Tom. Do this for you — think of it. Michael Jordan is about to be a player on this team and, when he’s done, the owner … what NBA player has ever done that? It’s unprecedented, you’ll be part of history.” “I’ll be part of history,” he repeated, the phrase oddly appropriate. A historically inept franchise … a city that loved its team but had nothing to show for it … the greatest player in NBA history on the court for them. Of course, if this all blew up, he could be history. “Well?” Rolling the cigar in his fingers, Tom gave a solemn nod. “Let’s talk business. But first, let’s order some god-damn food … I’m starving.” 
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12-28-2016, 06:45 PM
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#3 |
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
Ch. 2 “Pick it up!” She clapped her hands harder, encouraging her squad — even though they couldn’t hear her. Or see her. She was watching old game film, but she still yelled at them like she was there. There were some advantages to watching the games on TV — the better view, the better camera angles — but the live game atmosphere was something altogether different. Something she wished she could experience again … but that ship had sailed. Now, due to life’s harsh realities, she wasn’t a coach on a bench — she was a coach on a couch. Shouting at a TV, clapping her hands, and desperately trying to distract herself from the creeping sensation that her time was done in the sport of basketball. She was never a stud player, but when she played she was efficient, team-oriented, and smart. She was never seen as a stud coach, either — she was good at teaching, at organizing, at evaluating, but game-to-game strategy was never her bag. She enjoyed the fundamentals of the game more than the flash play, but that wasn’t enough in the end. If it was, she’d still have a job. Instead, she was out of work and had been since March … that’s what happened when your team failed to make the tournament and the coaching staff had to be ‘reorganized.’ She was left out in the cold, along with a few others, and nearly the age of 33, she wasn’t sure exactly what she was doing anymore. She wasn’t young enough to really impress any man into marrying her — certainly was in good shape, but not a shape someone would consider shapely. She was a basketball coach who enjoyed teaching kids the best parts of the game … but having kids didn’t interest her. She much preferred teaching the children of others rather than having children of her own. Despite the last three months being boring as hell, she wasn’t prepared to rush into something for the sake of relieving her boredom … but she certainly wasn’t about to keep plugging away in the NCAA for the same old *hit. Suddenly aware at how pathetic — and sad — she looked, she clicked off her VCR and switched the channel to ESPN. Sports noise was preferable to thinking about her life and where she was going; the answer didn’t evade her, it simply didn’t exist yet. DING-DONG She muted the TV, sure she heard her doorbell and once again it rang out. “What the hell?” she mumbled as she got off her couch and opened the door to her modest, but spacious house. She wasn’t expecting anyone today. The door opened and a silver-haired, cigar-smoke smelling man flashed her a grin. “Clare.” “Tom!” She waved him in happily, thankful for the pleasant distraction. “You’re in town?” “I am,” he said as he took out a cigar. “Mind?” “You can use it as a chew toy.” He nodded and popped it into his mouth. “Makes me happy either way, Coach.” She cringed a little. “Too soon. I still stay out of my office when I can …” Said office, within her house, was wall-to-wall with memorabilia from ten years of coaching and more years of her playing the game. He looked around, then pointed at the kitchen. “Drinks?” “I think I’ll start early today.” Not like I haven’t in past days, she added silently. She quickly poured two cold glasses of white wine and watched as he stuck his cigar between two fingers while holding the glass with the same hand. “I came here with an idea.” “Have you seen a doctor yet? If it last more than four hours, you really should.” He cracked a grin. “Still got your humor.” She took a deep sip of her wine. “It’s all they let me take after they fired me.” “Well, I’m here to hire you … if you’re interested.” “For the pros?” Out of all the things she had considered, jumping into the pros wasn’t on the table. It just wasn’t done for a woman basketball coach. “You’re joking.” He took another sip of the wine, like she had just asked him about the weather. “I’m taking over the Kings, effective tomorrow morning.” She stared at him. He stared at her. She realized that he wasn’t joking. “The Sacramento Kings are hiring you six days before the draft?” “Technically, I was already hired — I’ve been consulting with them for a few months, I know the staff. I’m just taking the upper-management job.” He set the wine down and plopped the cigar back in his mouth, shifting it over to his left side. “But you may want to sit down for this next part.” She pulled out a bar stool and sat down at her kitchen island, not even bothering to look where she was sitting. He shifted the cigar over to the other side of his mouth. “Michael Jordan is signing with us.” She stared harder at him. “Now you’re worrying me.” “Don’t believe me if you don’t want to, but it’s happening. We’re getting him and there’s no question about it.” “And — the cherry on-top — is you want to offer me a job?” He nodded. “It was told to me, when I was offered this job, that I had a chance to make history. Well, that’s true … and I don’t want my history just to be that of the guy who signed Jordan. I actually had nothing to do with it, it was all backchannel stuff.” He pulled out a stool and sat himself down. “But, I can get you a spot on the sidelines. I’m hiring Adelman to coach and he’s looking for solid staff — someone who can drill the players on the fundamentals. I suggested you, he looked it over, and he’s on board.” He finished his wine and flashed a smile. “Just need a yes.” “A yes?” She found herself caught between complete disbelief and a hurricane of anxiety. “You want me to be the first woman coach in the NBA?” He offered only a nod. “Do you know what that’ll mean … Jesus, Tom, there are a hundred more qualified women out there than me!” “More-qualified, maybe … currently available, though?” She winced at that, but he pressed on. “Look, I’m not offering this as a favor. It’s not a pity *uck, Clare, it’s a real, god-damned chance to do something. You’ve paid your dues … so, take a chance here with me.” She shotgunned her glass of wine, wishing there were more in it, and shook her head. “I’m not ready.” “Hell, I was going to retire before this *hit hit,” he admitted. “But, when Michael Jordan chooses to join your team, you junk any plans you have.” He slid his glass away and took out a cigar, holding it out for her. “Clare Pulaski, assistant coach with the Sacramento Kings, first woman to coach in the NBA … how’s that sound?” “It sounds … it sounds amazing.” She undid her pony-tail and then redid it, just to give her a moment to think. “I shouldn’t be the one to do it; I don’t deserve to be the one to break that barrier.” He held out the cigar a little further. “There have been plenty deserving of the shot for years … but they didn’t get it. You’re getting it now.” She took a breath and leaned back, opening the counter drawer. “What are you getting?” She grabbed the cigar out his hand and lit it with the lighter she just pulled out. “I don’t like to chew on mine.” She popped it into her mouth and took a small drag, trying to remember how to smoke the damned things. “I’m in.”
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12-28-2016, 08:10 PM
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#4 |
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MVP
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
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🏀The Bulgarian Brothers - a story of two brothers (Oggy and Dinko) as they coach in the NCAA and the NBA. 🏈RIFLE - a dystopian football league. 🏀Bringing Back the Buzz - my first dynasty. |
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12-28-2016, 08:40 PM
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
Unfortunately, the UBR rosters didn't have every contract correct (but it would have been insane if they did, the guys did an amazing job anyway) so the free agency for this dynasty's 1998 offseason doesn't resemble the actual one in a number of ways. However, in-story I've pinned those differences as a consequence of the new CBA. I set up the 1998 draft order exactly as it was in real life, so those teams are still picking in the same spots -- however, that draft went much differently after the Kings pick (one of the many ripple effects due to Jordan's influence). And free agency diverged as well due to the draft, but some teams still went after the same people. Things are going to be very interesting for the 98-99 season. 
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12-29-2016, 05:15 PM
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#6 |
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
Ch. 3 Draft night. As he sat in his office, outside the warroom, Tom allowed himself a quiet moment of reflection. This is where a franchise could be broken — in the span of one draft a contender could be rendered a dismal husk of itself in the near future. If you didn’t draft well, you were destined to run forever on the treadmill of misery. That was, in essence, the Kings fate since they arrived in Sacramento. They drafted poorly and did so for years under multiple coaches and GMs. Now, it was his turn to join the list — either as another jack*ss who screwed the pooch or as the guy who helped set the franchise on the path to success. This draft went beyond this season — in the short-term, Jordan was going to be the hero. Tom didn’t mind that at all, in fact it made his job easier; with Jordan distracting everyone with his play, the front office could maneuver their way to success. It wouldn’t be easy; Jordan, above all, valued loyalty. As the GM, Tom was going to have to balance loyalty to players versus the reality of building a stable contender, but it could be done. He’d have to make the right bets, he’d have to play the right cards, and he’d have to get a complete buy-in from the players and coaching staff. If any one of those things didn’t come to pass, the league was just waiting to *uck them all. “So much for a relaxing retirement,” he mumbled to himself as he took out a folded sheet of paper; on it were the three names the front office had narrowed down as their potential picks. At seventh overall, they could have just about anyone. Under the previous regime, just about every scout he had though they were for sure going to take the top name on the list: Jason Williams. The point guard from Florida was, to say the least, an eccentric talent. That might have been a turn-off for some in the NBA, but Tom had dealt with eccentric talents all his career — you didn’t build title teams without them. You had to have some guys like that on any contender and Williams was definitely that type of player — he could be huge, if put in the right situation, but Tom wasn’t so sure Sacramento was it. Jordan was going to be on this team and he was, to say the least, a maniac when it came to pushing his teammates. Jordan demanded the best from himself and from others. That was a damned tall order to ask of a rookie, especially one with Williams history of questionable decision making and effort. But the rest of the NBA was convinced they would take him and Tom was fine with letting that play out; if the other executives in the league were so sure he was taking Williams, it gave the Kings leverage and Tom wasn’t one to turn that down. His eyes drifted to the second name on the list: Paul Pierce. Pierce was a born competitor, someone who could shoot, pass, defend, and rebound with the best in the college game. He was a leader, highly thought of by multiple scouts in the NBA — his time in Kansas had proven, in spades, just how ready he was for pros. Tom was of the opinion that Pierce was definitely an All-Star talent at least, but the question became how ready he really was for the pros. His shooting touch was going to translate almost immediately, so would his intangibles, but his defense was Tom’s main worry — given the rigors of the NBA and how long the season was, Tom wasn’t so sure Pierce would get that part of the game as fast. Add in Jordan and his expectations, and that made things dicey. Then add in the Kings current two-guard, Mitch Richmond, and Pierce was going to be drafted to be a successor to Mitch — and that was a bad look considering Jordan was on the team; Jordan was going to play the three and leave Richmond at the two, leaving the two-vets space to operate. Pierce would be riding the bench and, though that wouldn’t be a bad thing, drafting a bench player at seventh overall was a bit of a waste. But Pierce would easily succeed Richmond and, hell, maybe even Jordan if he really developed. Drafting the heir to His Airness was tempting, especially in light of Jordan and Richmond’s ages — 35 and 33 respectively. The third name on the list was the dark horse, though; Nowitzki. Dirk, as he was called, because his last name was a *itch to pronounce without a lot of practice. Dirk was a towering German basketball savant with a shooting stroke that made Reggie Miller blush. Sure, Dirk was awkward — who wouldn’t be at 7’0” tall? — but the kid could shoot. His post work was solid, if unspectacular at his point, but what intrigued Tom the most was how some NBA players already viewed him. Dirk had played in 1997, in the Nike Hoops Heroes Tour. He had played against Barkley, Pippen, and Jordan … and he had lit them up. The German Wunderkind went for over 50 points in that game and though one could definitely make the case the USA stars weren’t trying super-hard, Dirk had impressed Barkley, Tom knew that for a fact. He folded the sheet of paper up and stuck it back in his pocket, his mind rattling around the possibilities. Trades were always an option — more picks meant more talent and the Kings could use that in multiple places. They had needs at point guard that Williams could address, they could use a young wing in Pierce for when Richmond or Jordan retired, or they could go for the German kid at the four, giving their offense an unorthodox dimension. “Hell,” he mumbled as he sauntered out of his office back to the warroom, the relative silence giving way to the chaos of draft night. It was all a crapshoot anyway.
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12-29-2016, 06:03 PM
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#7 |
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
 1998 NBA Draft Results 1. LAC: Michael Olowokandi 2. VAN: Mike Bibby 3. DEN: Raef LaFrentz 4. TOR: Antwan Jamison 5. GS: Vince Carter 6. DAL: Robert Traylor 7. SAC: Dirk Nowitzki 8. PHI: Jason Williams 9. MIL: Radoslav Nesterovic 10. BOS: Paul Pierce 11. DET: Jerome James 12. ORL: Keon Clark 13. ORL: Rashard Lewis 14. HOU: Rafer Alston 15. ORL: Larry Hughes 16. HOU: Ricky Davis 17. MIN: Matt Harpring 18. HOU: Cutino Mobley 19. MIL: Greg Buckner 20. ATL: Bryce Drew 21. CHA: Michael Dickerson 22. LAC: Toby Baily 23. DEN: Carry Carr 24. SA: Earl Boykins 25. IND: Tyronne Lue 26. LAL: Robert Stack 27. SEA: Pat Garrity 28. CHI: Ruben Patterson 29. UTA: Bonzi Wells
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12-30-2016, 06:33 PM
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#8 |
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Designated Red Shirt
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Re: All Hail The Kings: A Retro Dynasty
 Jordan Joins Kings July 2nd, 1998 By Sasha Brown |ESPN.com The NBA and the world at large was in for one hell of a shock yesterday morning when they awoke from their slumber; normal day-to-day operations were put on pause as the world’s greatest basketball player announced he would be returning to the court for another season. Except, it would be for the Sacramento Kings and not the defending champion Chicago Bulls. The deal — three years worth a little over $30M — is pittance comparatively to what Jordan made the last two years, which comes to a little over $60M. But it’s the other deal — the one for after Jordan’s playing days — that has the NBA and the world up in arms. “It’s unheard of it and he’s the only one that could have done it,” said one Eastern Conference executive. “There’s a reason the Bulls let him walk and it’s not because he can’t play.” Michael Jordan, upon the completion of his playing career, will take over the Sacramento Kings as its full owner. That deal has never been attempted in the history of the NBA and, according to the rules of the new CBA, isn’t illegal — in fact, the CBA has no rule against it. Probably because not a single owner in the NBA ever considered the possibility that a player would accumulate the money necessary to buy one the league’s 29 franchises — but it’s happening and it’s happening with the Kings. “Ecstatic,” said current owner Jim Thomas. “I couldn’t be happier — I have full confidence in Michael’s abilities and can’t wait to see how the franchise looks in the future.” Thomas is likely the only owner who is ‘ecstatic’ about Jordan’s unique deal; Jordan’s former employer certainly isn’t. “Michael is ambitious and highly competitive — we all know that and we all know he gives his best. That said, he’s taking on a challenge here that, I believe, he’s not fully considered the full scope of,” Bulls owner Jerry Reinsdorf said in a press release. At Jordan’s first press conference as a King today, the six-time world champion was dismissive of Reinsdorf’s concerns. “I know how to win and what it takes to do that. There are plenty of owners out there who pled poverty during the recent negotiations … maybe if they won more, they would be able to turn a profit,” said Jordan. Michael Jordan’s competitive streak — and his trash talking — is a well-known trait of his on the court. It appears that it will be following him off the court as well once he takes ownership of the Kings. But Jordan’s deal runs for three-years and the player has a renewed sense of purpose. “Six championships is a lot and we did good things in Chicago,” Jordan said. “At the same time, Coach Jackson retired and we lost some guys in free agency. There will be other changes, too, and I decided it would be a good opportunity to take on a new challenge. And the Kings are definitely that.” Jordan doesn’t seem to be delusional — he knows that he’s getting himself into it seems. The Sacramento Kings have been, since their arrival in California in the mid-80s, a lost franchise. Wasted picks, wasted talent, and a fanbase long suffering. For every one step forward they seem to take a dozen back. Can Michael Jordan change that? Can rookie Dirk Nowitzki? Can new GM Tom Malone? New head coach Rick Adelman? With the Kings, the likeliest answer is: no.
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