At 10 a.m. on the 12th, the New York Knicks dropped a bombshell.
They officially announced that Charles Oakley's contract had expired, and he would test the waters in free agency. Veteran Buck Williams also announced his retirement.
Meanwhile, even though Alan Houston and John Starks were still under contract, both had formally requested trades. At the same time, management placed Larry Johnson—who didn't want to leave—as well as Charlie Ward and Chris Childs on the trading block.
In total, with Oakley gone and Buck retiring, seven players from the Knicks' championship squad were now out. This marked the beginning of a massive overhaul in New York.
But don't get it twisted—it wasn't like the Knicks had become some kind of player supermarket. The trade value of the five players they were actively shopping wasn't exactly sky-high. Other teams weren't exactly fighting over them.
Ironically, the spotlight that day didn't belong to New York at all—it was stolen by the Utah Jazz.
The Jazz shocked the entire league by publicly announcing a full rebuild. And the headline? Both Karl Malone and John Stockton—aka the Black and White Devils of Utah—were officially placed on the trade block.
That news exploded across the league like a nuclear bomb.
Adidas and Reebok were fuming. With the Jazz making their rebuild public so early, the plan to quietly move Malone to the Lakers just got messy. Now that Malone was available, other teams would definitely jump into the bidding war. That meant the Lakers were going to have to cough up a lot more than expected.
But neither Adidas nor Reebok could do anything to stop the Jazz. They just had to roll with it now.
In Salt Lake City, John Stockton was blindsided. The team didn't even have the decency to tell him he was being shopped?
It felt like a betrayal. After fourteen years in a Jazz uniform, he had always expected to finish his career there.
He stared at his phone for a moment, then finally called the GM, Tim Howells.
"Why?" Stockton asked, his voice cold.
"John, listen, it's not personal," Ham replied. "But if Karl leaves, we gotta rebuild. And to do that, we need assets. You know we can't rebuild if we're stuck in limbo. You've always cared about this team—don't let it fall apart completely."
"What if I retire?" Stockton said flatly.
Tim went silent. That was the last thing they needed. He took a breath and softened his tone. "John, you can do whatever you feel is right. I won't blame you. The fans won't either. Honestly... it's the organization that owes you an apology."
Stockton didn't say another word. He just sighed, then hung up.
Deep down, he couldn't bring himself to abandon the Jazz. If he walked away now, he'd be turning his back on the fans who'd stood by him for over a decade.
Meanwhile, over in New York, Ernie Grunfeld was practically buzzing with excitement when he heard about the Jazz's announcement.
He had never been satisfied with the team's point guard situation. Sure, Zhao Dong could handle the ball, but he thrived as a scorer. The Knicks still needed a true floor general.
Chauncey Billups was promising, but he wasn't ready yet. Next season was all about defending the dynasty, and Ernie knew they couldn't afford to gamble. They needed a seasoned point guard, and fast.
Trading for John Stockton was tempting. But there was one catch—bringing him in would eat into Zhao Dong's usage, and the Tyrant's blessing would be necessary.
So Ernie picked up the phone.
"Zhao, we're thinking about trading for Stockton. What do you think?"
"You make the call," Zhao replied calmly. "But I doubt they'll send him to us. The Jazz hate our guts."
He was right.
Ten minutes later, Ernie got the call back: deal rejected. Straight up.
Back in New York, Coach Don Nelson and his staff weren't kicking back on vacation like the rest of the league. With half the roster gone, it was practically a rebuild on their end too.
They were burning the midnight oil trying to map out the next version of the Knicks.
Fortunately, Nelson already had a plan forming.
He wanted a shooter on the wing—somebody who could hit from deep, defend the perimeter, and move without the ball. With Zhao Dong drawing constant double-teams in the post or off the dribble, a pure shooter would feast on open looks.
Down low, Ben Wallace had come along well. He was locked in as the starting center. But he needed a frontcourt partner who could space the floor.
Ideally, someone who could defend and rebound but also shoot well enough to stretch the defense. Danny Fortson had potential, but his jumper needed work. The coaching staff needed a backup plan just in case Fortson didn't pan out.
Worst case? They'd roll with Big Ben and Fortson.
As for wings, there was one obvious target: the madman from the Warriors who'd been suspended all season.
Just as Ernie was about to reach out to Golden State, his phone rang.
"Ernie, I'll make it simple," said the Warriors' GM. "Give me Alan Houston and John Starks, and you get Sprewell."
"Starks is fine. But Houston? Nah. The Sprewell ain't worth that much."
The Warriors were desperate. After the infamous chokehold incident, no team wanted to touch Sprewell. In the end, the deal was struck: John Starks and Chris Childs in exchange for Latrell Sprewell.
The paperwork would be finalized after the draft, once the trading window reopened.
Later that day, Sprewell got a call from his agent.
"Latrell, pack up. You're heading to New York. The deal's done."
"The Knicks? Zhao Dong's team?"
"Yeah. Look—don't do anything stupid when you get there. If you piss off Zhao Dong, you're finished. Don't test him."
Sprewell hung up the phone, dazed.
He'd lost over $6 million from the suspension. He hadn't played a game in nearly a year. Now, he was headed to New York—into the lion's den.
The last thing he needed was to cross Zhao Dong. One wrong move, and he might not walk out in one piece.
Meanwhile, on the sunny beaches of Miami, Lakers GM Jerry West was working the phones.
Backed by Adidas and Reebok, he was orchestrating a massive trade to bring Karl Malone to L.A. and help fast-track rookie Kobe Bryant's rise.
The core piece he was offering? All-Star shooting guard Eddie Jones.
Problem was, the Jazz were demanding at least two lottery picks—and the Lakers didn't have them. A multi-team deal was the only way.
Then his phone rang.
"Shaq? Aren't you supposed to be on vacation?"
"Yeah, I'm chillin' on the beach right now," O'Neal said. "But I heard something. You got anything you wanna tell me?"
Jerry chuckled. "Alright, alright. We're close to landing you a beast in the paint. Malone's still got 2–3 elite years left. It's a done deal—he's coming in on a vet minimum. Adidas is covering the rest."
"Man, that's wild!" Shaq shouted.
In his excitement, he jumped up—knocking over his lounge chair and landing flat on the sand.
Jerry laughed. "Careful, big fella."
Shaq grinned. "Aight, but Jerry—keep it quiet. And yo, we gotta talk. It's about that dude Nick..."
On the 18th, Vince Carter arrived at the New York headquarters of Zhao Dong Sports and officially signed his contract.
Zhao Dong and Lindsay were present at the signing ceremony.
Wang Zhizhi was also there—he signed his sneaker endorsement deal that day, receiving the same contract as Hu Weidong.
"Boss," Carter greeted as he approached Zhao Dong.
"You don't have to call me that in the league," Zhao Dong grinned. "I'm just a player there like everyone else. Call me Zhao Dong."
"Alright, boss," Carter chuckled.
Zhao Dong motioned to the sneakers on Carter's feet. "You feeling those kicks?"
Carter's eyes lit up. "Man, they're fire. Best shoes I've ever worn."
Zhao Dong smiled. "How's the performance?"
Carter immediately responded with excitement, "They help me jump higher, the landing cushion is amazing—it protects my ankles real nice. Traction's solid too, I can cut, start, stop, no problem."
"Glad to hear that," Zhao Dong said, satisfied.
The endorsement deal—worth tens of millions—instantly boosted Vince Carter's public profile. Zhao Dong Sports had landed a future star.
---
June 24 — Draft Day.
Zhao Dong brought Dazhi and Bonzi Wells to Madison Square Garden to enjoy the action.
He had Wells officially sign Wang Zhizhi, avoiding the risk of some shady agent messing things up.
The 1998 draft was deep. Al Harrington, Rashard Lewis, Larry Hughes, White Chocolate Jason Williams, Mike Bibby, and others were expected to fall late in the first or even into the second round. The Knicks had a shot at grabbing one.
But Ernie Grunfeld had already promised Zhao Dong he'd use their final first-round pick on a big man. That left only the last pick of the second round for Zhao Dong's use—basically a throwaway. This year's draft wasn't going to be as productive for the Knicks as last year's.
Up front in the Green Room, Zhao Dong scanned the future stars—Carter, Paul Pierce, Dirk Nowitzki, Bibby, White Chocolate, Larry Hughes. All of them were waiting.
Zhao Dong walked over to Carter.
"Vince, I got a tip for you," he said seriously. "You play in the air. When you land, watch for people sticking their feet underneath you."
"…Huh?" Carter blinked in confusion.
"Start practicing this now—in training. Learn to land with your legs spread to avoid stepping on someone."
"I got you. Appreciate it, boss," Carter nodded earnestly.
Then Zhao Dong turned and addressed the rookies in the room.
"Yo! What's up, rookies?"
Several of them were already signed to Zhao Dong Sports, including Bibby and Jason Williams.
"Zhao Dong!"
"Yo, I'm a big fan, man!"
"Silver Demon, bro! You cold!"
"Boss!"
They all stood up, shouting his name like excited fans.
Zhao Dong laughed. "Y'all too hype. But hey, just know—I won't go easy on you next season."
"…"
The room got quiet as the rookies remembered how badly Zhao Dong had bodied Tim Duncan the previous year.
---
The top three picks this year belonged to the Clippers, Grizzlies, and Nuggets.
As Zhao Dong left the Green Room, he unexpectedly ran into Michael Jordan and Phil Jackson.
"You guys still got picks left?" he asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Jordan answered coolly. "Why do you care?"
"Who'd y'all trade with?" Zhao Dong asked.
Jordan frowned. "Not your business."
---
The Clippers used the No.1 pick on center Michael Olowokandi. The Grizzlies took Mike Bibby at No.2, and the Nuggets picked Raef LaFrentz at No.3.
At No.4, the Raptors picked Antawn Jamison.
At No.5, the Warriors took Vince Carter.
Then, the two teams swapped players. The Raptors had picked Jamison to use as trade bait, knowing the Warriors wanted him. Golden State sent cash to Toronto to seal the deal and bring Carter home.
Meanwhile, Wang Zhizhi sat quietly beside Zhao Dong, waiting for the Knicks to use their No.29 pick.
No.27 was up.
Phil Jackson stepped up with an envelope.
The Bulls had traded two role players for this pick. Their original No.24 was used earlier in a deal for Patrick Ewing.
"...With the 27th pick in the 1998 NBA Draft," Commissioner David Stern began, pausing to glance at Phil Jackson, then over at Zhao Dong and the Knicks.
"The Chicago Bulls select… Wang Zhizhi, from China."
"Yeah!"
Cheers erupted back home. His family, friends, and teammates were watching live and exploded with excitement.
"Shit!" Zhao Dong cursed under his breath.
"…What just happened?" Wang was stunned.
He looked at Zhao Dong blankly. "Brother Dong?"
Across the floor, Jordan was smirking.
"It's alright," Zhao Dong reassured him. "The Bulls are rebuilding. You might get a starting role if you work hard. But heads-up—Jordan's got super high expectations. Be mentally ready."
Wang nodded. He wasn't a kid anymore. Two years in the CBA had toughened him up. Slowly, he calmed down.
"Go on up," Zhao Dong urged as Stern called Wang's name again.
"Welcome, Wang," Stern greeted warmly. "We hope your NBA career is a great one."
"Thank you, Mr. Stern," Wang replied in clear English.
---
But over at the Knicks table, chaos was brewing.
"Who the hell do we pick now?" Ernie Grunfeld said, caught completely off guard.
The Bulls had stolen their guy.
The Knicks had good scouts, but no backup plan for this situation.
Zhao Dong stepped in.
"Ernie, I got a couple names for you. Check them out."
"Alright, shoot," Grunfeld nodded. "You hit on Hu and Ben Wallace. I'm listening."
Zhao Dong listed a few guys who were falling into the second round.
After thinking it over, Grunfeld went with Cuttino Mobley—since the Knicks were about to lose most of their guards and needed to reload the backcourt.
Mobley, who had originally projected as a second-rounder, now found himself a first-round pick at No.29.
---
After the draft, Zhao Dong made a beeline for Jordan and Phil Jackson.
Jordan scowled. "What do you want?"
"You tell me," Zhao Dong snapped. "Why'd you take my guy?"
Phil Jackson chuckled. "Zhao Dong, teams pick who they want. You know that."
"I know how the draft works," Zhao Dong retorted. "But he didn't do a tryout with you. He didn't even attend your training camp. What exactly made you pick him?"
Jackson smirked. "Look, if you really want Wang Zhizhi back, it's not impossible."
"…The hell?"
Zhao Dong's expression darkened. So that's what this was—it wasn't about the Bulls liking Wang. They wanted leverage.
"Mr. Jackson…" Ernie Grunfeld stepped in, voice icy. "Who are you after? Danny Fortson?"
"Yes," Jackson answered without hesitation.
Zhao Dong and Grunfeld exchanged glances. This was going to be tricky.
"Let's go," Grunfeld said to Zhao Dong.
As they turned to leave, Zhao Dong snatched the Bulls hat out of Wang Zhizhi's hands and tossed it toward Jordan.
Then he spun back around and pointed at Phil Jackson.
"Coach Jackson, forget it. You're not getting Fortson. Neither the Knicks nor I play that kind of blackmail game."
With that, he stormed off.
Phil Jackson and Jordan watched him go.
A few reporters came over, but seeing the tension, they wisely backed off.
After walking out of Madison Square Garden and getting into the car, Phil Jackson leaned back and said, "Michael, if the Knicks don't bite, we can still use Wang. The 27th pick in the first round isn't exactly a loss."
Jordan nodded. "Yeah, let's hope he can give us something off the bench."
They had picked Wang Zhizhi because during the Finals, they noticed Zhao Dong was always hanging around with both Wang and Yao. Yao and the others had already told them that Wang played solid in the Atlanta Olympics, so they dug into his profile and cooked up this plan.
Once Zhao Dong left the arena, a few folks started chatting about the shift in plans.
Coach Don Nelson seemed pretty impressed with Wang. He liked big men who could shoot from range. Shaking his head slightly, he said with a hint of regret, "Man, if Wang had joined our team, we could've experimented with a lot more tactical sets. The Bulls made a slick move, gotta give it to them."
Meanwhile, Wang was feeling uneasy. Zhao Dong picked up on it and patted him on the shoulder.
"It's fine," he said calmly. "Even if you end up on the Bulls, with your current skills, you'll get minutes. They're in a rebuild just like the Knicks, so there's opportunity everywhere."
"I get it, Brother Dong," Wang said, taking a deep breath.
Zhao Dong thought for a second, then added, "Stick it out for now. If it really doesn't work, just request a trade. They can't force you to stay."
"Don't worry. I can adapt." Wang nodded firmly.
Zhao Dong smiled and nodded back. Yeah, Wang in this timeline was different. He had gotten stronger and adjusted to the NBA's pace and training earlier than before. His English wasn't bad either, so getting minutes with the Bulls shouldn't be an issue.
After the draft, Zhao Dong had no more business in the States, so he started prepping for his trip back home.
At the airport, as he was about to leave, Wells came to see him off.
"You planning to play in the World Championships?" Wells asked.
"Yeah," Zhao Dong replied casually.
"Well, here's the thing—if the league actually locks out, there's a chance they won't allow players to participate in international tournaments. You thought about that?" Wells raised an eyebrow.
Zhao Dong froze for a second. That was a real possibility.
If the league shut down, any active player contracts would basically be paused. Technically, that would make players free to hoop wherever they wanted. But the reality? Players don't hold the power. If the league says "no," and you go play anyway, it could come back to bite you. Hard.
That's also why not a single NBA guy was suiting up for Team USA. Publicly, they claimed it was voluntary, but insiders knew the league didn't allow it. Nobody wanted to offend the big bosses.
"Yo, Wells," Zhao Dong suddenly said with a grin. "If the league locks out, send out a press release for me. Tell 'em I'm officially retiring."
"Uh... okay?" Wells said, looking confused and a bit helpless.
Zhao Dong chuckled.
Later, he and Lindsay flew back to China, while Wang stayed in the U.S. He went with Wells to Chicago to discuss contract terms with the Bulls.
Back in Beijing, Zhao Dong spent a couple of quiet days at home before heading to Zhao Dong Sports Company with Lindsay.
On the top floor of Tower—reserved exclusively for Zhao Dong and Lindsay—the company's general manager, Chen Jian, gave a report. The hot topic? A potential IPO.
"President Zhao, President Lin," Chen Jian began, "some executives were pushing for a U.S. listing earlier. But now the voices are louder, and practically the whole senior team is in favor of going public overseas."
Zhao Dong raised an eyebrow. "What's your take?"
He could already sense something off from Chen Jian's tone. These execs weren't just suggesting an IPO—they had already made up their minds. The real question wasn't if anymore, it was where.
Heh. These execs sure didn't see themselves as just employees anymore.
Chen Jian had clearly prepped for this. He continued, "The company's performance is strong. Sales are booming in China, Asia, and even the U.S. We've got a dominant hold on the Chinese basketball shoe market, about 50% across Asia, and a 25% slice in North America. Europe's still a weak spot though—hard to break in since it's mainly a soccer market."
He added, "Our operating funds are solid. We don't need an IPO. It's mainly about the execs' willingness."
Zhao Dong cut in, "I asked what you think."
Chen Jian paused, a little flustered. "I support listing in the U.S."
"Why?"
"To maximize returns," Chen replied quickly. "The Chinese secondary market's still immature. Listing here won't give us the same results as a U.S. IPO. And for a brand trying to go global, it makes the most sense to list in the most open and developed capital market. So yeah, I personally support the listing."
Zhao Dong leaned back and nodded slowly. He'd gotten a read on Chen Jian's stance.
Truth be told, he wasn't completely against a U.S. listing. After all, this was a sports brand—not a high-tech company sensitive to foreign capital. But he also knew that going public in the U.S. meant bringing in outside investors. And once Wall Street's in the mix, you better believe they'll start interfering.
That's something Zhao Dong couldn't accept.
Plus, the company wasn't hurting for cash. There was zero urgency to go public.
He and Lindsay had already talked it over. For now, they wouldn't go public at all. Instead, they were planning to roll out a profit-sharing and equity incentive plan—but only internally, and definitely not within the next three years.
Zhao Dong Sports had only been around for a year. Most of its success was tied to Zhao Dong's personal brand and the Silver Magic series. These so-called executives? They were already dreaming about stock options like they built the company themselves.
Ridiculous.
There was no equity incentive system in China yet, and he had no intention of being the first to cave. Someone was obviously stirring the pot behind the scenes. Which made him even more determined not to give in.
If they ever do implement an equity incentive, it's gonna be earned—not handed out for showing up.
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