Chapter 2300: Chatting Requires Skill

"I don't understand basketball."

Zhao Fusheng faced Cohen's question and said frankly.

"Ah?"

The Warriors general manager beside Cohen was taken aback.

Tan Kaixuan, standing by, looked helpless. Couldn't this guy Zhao Fusheng just tell a lie?

Although he didn't know why Cohen asked that, it was clear from the information that the old man had owned the Warriors for nearly twenty years.

Though a businessman, he was surely the kind who loved basketball.

In that case, if Zhao Fusheng said he liked basketball, Cohen might agree to sell the team to the two of them.

But Zhao Fusheng's single sentence had killed the conversation.

Cohen, however, was very calm and laughed upon hearing this.

"Zhao, you are truly an honest man."

After laughing a few times, Cohen said to Zhao Fusheng, "I've never seen anyone as honest as you. They all tell me how much they love basketball, even how much they love the Warriors."

Zhao Fusheng waved his hand, showing a serious expression: "Mr. Cohen, I really don't understand basketball. Of course, I know the NBA. Mr. David Stern's greatest achievement back then was letting many young people in China learn about American professional basketball on TV. I know Jordan, Kobe Bryant, O'Neal, oh, and I know LeBron James."

Shrugging, Zhao Fusheng laughed: "As for the Warriors, to be honest, what I know is just what Mr. Tan here wrote in the materials he gave me."

"That's normal."

Just as Tan Kaixuan thought Cohen would stand up and leave in a huff, he nodded instead.

"Yes, the Warriors really aren't famous in the league."

A bitter smile appeared on Cohen's aged face: "Mr. Zhao, you're right."

He wasn't a fool.

A seasoned veteran like him couldn't be fooled by a few sweet words.

He knew exactly what was what.

As Zhao Fusheng said, the Warriors weren't a powerhouse like the Lakers or Bulls; they'd never had a top superstar like Jordan, O'Neal, or Kobe.

In his hands, to put it bluntly, the Golden State Warriors were just a weak team in the league.

Even if they occasionally made the playoffs, they were swept in the first round.

In that case, if Zhao Fusheng talked about loving the Warriors or basketball, Cohen would probably tear him apart.

He just didn't have the energy to manage the team anymore; he wasn't yet blind or senile.

Tan Kaixuan was dumbfounded.

Holy crap!

What's going on?

They were getting along well?

Shouldn't you, Cohen, put on a capitalist face and demand an exorbitant price?

What's with this kindly old grandpa act?

Tan Kaixuan felt his brain couldn't keep up.

Zhao Fusheng chuckled and looked at Cohen, saying, "Mr. Cohen, what do you think is the most important thing for an owner to do for a team?"

"Well..."

Cohen frowned but didn't speak immediately.

He seemed to be pondering Zhao Fusheng's words.

In fact, not only Cohen but also Tan Kaixuan, after hearing Zhao Fusheng's question, didn't speak right away but frowned, lost in thought.

After a long while, Cohen laughed: "Young man, I think you've got it wrong. I'm the one selling the Warriors. After that, I won't be the owner anymore. That's a question for you to consider."

Old fox!

Zhao Fusheng cursed inwardly.

He had to admit, the old man was too shrewd!

But he had to concede that the man indeed had his merits.

Come to think of it, after all, the old man was the owner of a team and a successful businessman.

If he couldn't even see that, it would be too embarrassing.

With that in mind, Zhao Fusheng said calmly, "Mr. Cohen, I think we might be able to reach a consensus."

"Consensus?"

Cohen looked at Zhao Fusheng with some surprise.

Zhao Fusheng nodded: "Yes. For me, I prefer a hands-off approach."

Then he smiled: "I've seen the materials. You originally planned to invite Jerry West as the team's general manager, right?"

"Yes."

Cohen nodded: "But unfortunately, he didn't seem very interested in joining the Warriors."

"Heh, I think all reasons for lack of interest boil down to not enough money."

Zhao Fusheng smiled: "Perhaps we could offer Mr. Jerry West some shares; then he might be willing to join the Warriors' management."

"And then?"

Cohen looked at Zhao Fusheng curiously.

Clearly, he hoped Zhao Fusheng would tell him how he would run the club if he bought the Warriors.

"Mr. Cohen, I'm not a professional team manager."

Facing Cohen's confusion, Zhao Fusheng laughed heartily and said calmly, "For me, buying the team and handing it over to a professional management team led by Jerry West to operate—the rest has nothing to do with me."

He paused and shrugged: "I only provide the money. As for who to buy, that's the head coach and general manager's business. Of course, if the person is too expensive, I might hesitate, but that's all."

Cohen was stunned!

He stared at Zhao Fusheng in shock.

He felt a bit dizzy.

What did this Chinese man want to do?

He could tell that Zhao Fusheng really had no interest in how to run the Warriors.

But that didn't stop him from treating the Golden State Warriors as a business.

Exactly!

Cohen could clearly sense that Zhao Fusheng was managing the team like a company.

He was the major shareholder, hiring a qualified professional manager and then ignoring the company's specific operations, only interfering at board meetings.

On that point alone, it seemed somewhat absurd.

But from the team's perspective, having such an owner wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

"Maybe you're right."

Cohen was silent for a moment, then laughed.

He didn't fully agree with Zhao Fusheng's words, but he could tell Zhao Fusheng was telling the truth.

In other words, this young Chinese man hadn't lied to him; he really intended to adopt that management model for the Golden State Warriors.

"Thanks for the compliment."

Zhao Fusheng smiled. He wasn't surprised that his words had that effect.

No matter how seriously Cohen spoke, it couldn't change the fact that he planned to sell the team.

It was like someone writing a diary: no matter how beautiful the prose or how twisty the content, once their true intentions were exposed, they were bound to be seen through.

Of course, Zhao Fusheng was definitely not hinting at anyone.

Definitely not.