Chapter 10: New Contract
"David, any advice?" Jordan asked as he sat in the car after dealing with the media.
"Michael, the Bulls got four games against the Knicks this season. You know what that means," his agent, David Falk, said.
"I get it. Beat the Knicks, shut down that rookie, and show everybody he's just a flash in the pan. But our first game against them ain't till January 21 next year. That's too damn long," Jordan said, frustration in his voice.
"Right now, we just gotta keep the media off your back. Other than that, not much else we can do," Falk admitted with a shrug.
---
On the evening of the 8th, Zhao Dong rolled up with his squad at the Clippers' home court, Memorial Arena, right near the University of Southern California.
Before the game, he was already pissed. The system didn't give him a task for the night. Guess not every game came with a mission, and that shit was starting to annoy him.
That night, Zhao Dong played 25 minutes, dropping 15 points, 6 boards, 2 dimes, 2 steals, 2 blocks, 2 turnovers, and 4 fouls.
As a rookie, he wasn't getting the rock much. Had to scrap for offensive rebounds or catch fast breaks just to put up numbers. Van Gundy's offense was still all about Ewing, who mostly looked for Alan Houston, their go-to scorer. Houston and Ewing were options one and two. Larry Johnson was the third guy, Oakley the fourth.
Even though Zhao Dong was filling in for Larry in the starting lineup, he wasn't even sniffing that third-option role. The team wasn't feeding him, and he hadn't earned that respect yet.
He straight-up rejected Ernie Grunfeld's contract offer because it was some bullshit. Guys like John Wallace and McCarty had contracts like that, and they weren't doing half of what he was. For Zhao Dong, it wasn't just about the money—it was about respect. He needed a contract that meant he was part of the team's plans, something that'd get him more minutes and let him develop his game.
Without that? His whole game plan for this season—and prepping for Ewing's injury next season—was gonna be a wrap.
---
With a 4-1 record, the Knicks flew to Vancouver on the 9th to take on the Grizzlies.
The Grizzlies? Man, they were straight-up trash. Still fresh off their expansion season, they finished dead last the year before. Even with the No. 3 pick, Shareef Abdur-Rahim, they were weak as hell.
Once again, no system task for Zhao Dong. Same story, same struggles. Played about the same minutes, got about the same looks—or lack thereof.
---
Back at the hotel after the game, Knicks GM Ernie Grunfeld pulled up on Coach Van Gundy to talk about Zhao Dong's role.
"Jeff, where do you see him fitting in?" Ernie Grunfeld asked, sounding serious.
Van Gundy thought for a sec before answering, "Once Larry's back, I'll use Zhao as his backup. He'll also be Oakley's first sub. Long-term, I see him competing with John Starks for the sixth-man spot."
Ernie nodded. Made sense. Larry Johnson was gonna reclaim his starting spot once healthy. Knicks had thrown a bag at him, and even though his back was messed up, they couldn't just bench him. That'd be a waste of money.
"What do you think about Zhao Dong's potential?" Ernie asked.
Van Gundy didn't sugarcoat it. "Short-term, kid's solid. Long-term? It ain't sold yet."
Ernie raised an eyebrow. "You thinking of giving him a big contract?"
Van Gundy chuckled. "I'm tempted. But let's wait and see. No need to rush. Let him prove it first."
Ernie Grunfeld wasn't just looking at Zhao Dong's game, though. The Knicks were about to go through some big changes. James Dolan was in talks to take over the team, and Grant knew his job could be on the line with new management.
Earlier that year, he had brought in Larry Johnson and turned down a trade that could've swapped Ewing for Shaq. Now? Shit was up in the air. If things were changing anyway, he figured, might as well take another gamble. It wasn't his money on the line—so why not?
---
Morning of the 11th, the Knicks hopped on their private jet back to New York. Zhao Dong's ten-day contract had officially expired, and you could cut the tension with a knife.
As the plane cruised, Ernie slid into the seat next to Zhao Dong, who was already on edge. He knew what this moment meant.
If the Knicks handed him a real contract, it wasn't just about the money. It meant more minutes, more shots, a bigger role. This was his shot to really get in the mix.
Ernie was betting on Zhao Dong's hunger. The kid was willing to bet on himself, and Ernie figured—why not? If Zhao kept showing out, this could pay off big.
For a rookie, it ain't just about "potential." You needed minutes, touches, and the right opportunities. That's how you make a name for yourself. If they just threw him a basic-ass contract, that meant they weren't really feeling him. And if they didn't believe in him, breaking through would be way harder.
"Zhao, how do you see yourself on this team?" Ernie asked, holding off on the contract talk—for now.
Zhao Dong paused. He wanted to say something crazy like, I'm gonna be the face of this franchise. But he didn't wanna spook Ernie.
After a beat, he smirked and said, "I wanna be like Jordan—then bust his ass."
Ernie's jaw damn near dropped. He stared at Zhao Dong like, Did this dude just say that?
Realizing he might've gone a little too far, Zhao Dong quickly added, "Look, extend my ten-day. Give me more minutes, more shots, and I'll prove I'm worth it. After that, you decide."
Ernie just chuckled. He already knew teams were circling Zhao Dong. Even Pat Riley was asking about him. If he dragged his feet, some other team was gonna snatch him up.
Ernie pulled out a contract and slid it over. "Take a look. It's close to what the top five picks are getting. Just a little less than Camby or Iverson."
Zhao Dong's heart started racing. Top five money? His eyes lit up as he unfolded the contract.
The numbers were clean—3+1 deal worth $10.5 million. First year: $1.9M. Second year: $2.25M. Third year: $2.85M. Fourth year: $3.5M (team option).
This was it. A real contract. Proof he belonged. It was like flipping off all the teams that passed on him in the draft.
"Alright, Mr. Ernie," Zhao Dong said, grinning, "Once we land in New York and I get an agent, we can wrap this up."
"Good. Knew you'd be happy with it," Ernie said, smiling back.
This was his call. He didn't check with nobody. If it backfired? That was on him. But in his mind, this was a smart bet. Four years, no second-round pick needed? Hell yeah.
After wrapping things up with Zhao Dong, Ernie walked up to Van Gundy, who was sitting up front.
"Jeff, let's talk about Zhao Dong's role," Ernie said, grinning.
Now that he'd locked Zhao Dong in, he was ready to make it work. More minutes, more shots, and a real role in the team's plans.
"You really giving him a big contract?" Van Gundy asked, surprised.
Ernie nodded. "Yeah. He's the future. Unlike Larry, Zhao Dong's got that dog in him."
Van Gundy studied him. He got the message. Ernie was asking him to prioritize Zhao Dong over Johnson—despite Larry's fat-ass contract.
"I need time to evaluate both," Van Gundy finally said. "Whoever's more efficient gets the minutes."
Ernie nodded. Fair enough. If Zhao Dong outperformed Larry in efficiency, he'd get the playing time.
Funny how things worked. Ernie had spent big money on Larry Johnson, and now? He was already looking to push him aside for Zhao Dong.
But to Ernie, the future came first. And Zhao Dong? He was the future.
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