Chapter 237: Rockets

Words : 1166 Updated : Oct 12th, 2025

"Sir, the Rockets are yours for sixty-five million bucks." "Great job, Filson. When will the league approve it?" "Soon. The news is already out. If I may say, sir, that price isn't quite right." "Haha, Filson, I'm a Texan." "Well, that's an unbeatable reason." Filson couldn't quite understand why William White was willing to pay such a high price for a struggling team. William White wanted to tell him that the NBA was about to enter its greatest era. No sport had ever experienced such a legendary rise. This year, would the top pick be Olajuwon or Jordan? For William White, this was a delightful dilemma. "No, no, something's off, Jordan was just a third pick. Forget it, let's just throw money at it," William muttered to himself. As long as he could get these two gods, the others didn't matter. Hmm, the team needed a cleanup. They could trade these guys for draft picks. Houston fans had truly suffered enough over the years, enduring several seasons as bottom-feeders. ... "What did you say? David, are you sure?" "Haha, Tommy, our team finally has hope. My heavens, the richest man in America, he actually spent sixty million bucks!" "Idiot, what's a few million? This guy sells a hundreds of millions worth of video games in a day, and that comic, my heavens, he's probably sleeping on a pile of cash every night." "No way, he's definitely sleeping on top of your goddess every night, haha, or maybe behind her." "Screw you! I don't like Nastassja anymore, Madonna's better, she looks a bit like Monroe!" "Haha, you're killing me. Probably both of them were already bedded. You poor sucker." "I'm gonna kill you." Leaving aside these crazy fans, David Dunne, about to accept the offer from the league, looked like he was constipated. He definitely didn't want to see this money-fueled basketball trend. But looking at this tycoon's stance, it was the epitome of someone who didn't care about money. In fact, he heard rumors over the past couple of days that this guy wasn't satisfied with just the top pick; he even wanted the third pick. Throwing money around like water definitely had a reason; teams that could grab the top pick weren't worth mentioning. It wasn't just David Dunne who was unhappy -- the Chicago Bulls were also displeased. With a money-loaded guy bidding, what chance did they have for that third pick? In this era, draft picks were valuable, though not as ridiculously valuable as they would be in the future. Normally, a team's worth was about twenty million. Of course, the Los Angeles Lakers might be exceptionally expensive, and they weren't for sale. ... The Wall Street guys didn't care much; they were studying the developments of Atari and DC, trying to figure out how many stakeholders were involved. Undoubtedly, Motorola was profiting; that damn CPU was too powerful. As soon as it was made, it turned into dollars without a worry for sales. As for the government's third-party requirement, that was also their joint venture partner. They didn't know how to handle this. If they didn't do government procurement business, what could the government do? Force buying wasn't an option. As for the team purchase now, they didn't care at all. Who didn't know this was a Texan? It was merely a matter of returning with glory. A sky-high acquisition? Come on, don't misuse words. A few million is just a toy, and it doesn't seem as expensive as his other toys. Oh yes, this guy's super yacht is about a hundred million bucks. Nowadays, these things just don't compare. ... "William, congratulations!" "Haha, George, of course I'd buy my hometown team. Remember to come to the opening game." "Great, great. But this year, you're not going to miss the playoffs again, are you?" "Not necessarily. Three years is needed. I certainly have the ability to buy all the stars, but what's the point? This team is not for sale." William White indeed intended to do just that. He not only planned to provide the best medical team but also intended to build a flashy stadium. He already had a name in mind -- the White Center. As for those pesky small beetles, they had no place here. These days, William White was excited, reverting to a playboy persona. The company's management was also scared of this reckless guy. Damn, this list you're holding, we don't dare look. If you buy all of them, it's enough to build two teams. A group of league bigwigs started losing sleep, unsure if their star players could resist the temptation. A million-dollar meeting gift, they said, was for the top and third picks. Yes, the Bulls had no hope. Although it's the team that picks the players, usually, the player's intentions are decisive. Everyone thought William White was a big spender without a brain. A few years later, they would realize the costs now were insignificant, and this "Dream Team" became an everlasting NBA legend. "The first three years, I need playoffs. Within five years, I need the championship trophy. That's my demand -- can you do it?" Doug Collins sighed with relief. After seeing this brilliant move, he was at a loss for words. But championships aren't easy to come by. Fortunately, it wasn't within three years or sooner. "No problem, I can accomplish this goal." "Doug, I'll provide the best medical service and training equipment. The top and third picks hold real gold value. Besides these two, the rest are up to you. If you need to strengthen the roster, let me know -- nothing's off-limits." Faced with this imposing tycoon, Doug Collins had no words to complain. What else could you say? If they didn't make the playoffs with these conditions, he might as well retire. "Mr. White, I need time to observe." "Okay, you have all the time you need." ... A bottom-dwelling team changed completely with a new owner. Suddenly, they became highly sought after, and those arrogant advertisers rushed in like they were on steroids. Before all this, they didn't even acknowledge the Houston Rockets. "Boss, should we play an exhibition game against the Rockets?" "Get lost! It'd be 100 to 10. You might not be embarrassed, but I still have some dignity left." "You're kidding, right? They're a weak team now, aren't they?" "Jason, you don't need to play a pro team; a college team could beat us up. Forget about it." William White, as outrageous as he was, knew his limits. Asking for a signed photo was one thing, but arranging a game was ridiculous. That would be blatant humiliation. ***** https://www.patreon.com/Sayonara816.

Chapter 237: Rockets

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