When Blake Dolan turned on his computer and searched for photos of Billy Donovan, he was stunned for a moment.
Black Dolan was sure he had seen this middle-aged man with an expressionless face.
A few seconds later, he smiled. When he was about ten years old, his father, James Dolan, took him to the Madison Square Garden Arena to watch a Knicks game. If I remember correctly, there was not much information about this.
Billy Donovan, who had a low profile, was a Knicks player at that time.
"Things are getting more and more interesting. Is this considered a quarrel between the Knicks?" Blake Dolan said to himself while looking at the photos on the screen.
…
Just as Blake Dolan was analyzing the University of Florida's tactics while chewing a cigarette and looking at the screen, his cell phone rang again. He pressed the connect button, and his father's exaggerated laughter came from the other end of the phone:
"Hey! Blake! We all watched the game you directed! It was wonderful! Now, all the sports magazines are reporting on you! It makes me happy to see this!"
"Hello, Dad, thank you for your greetings, but I don't think you would call me if you have nothing to do. Especially at this time, there is absolutely nothing else in your brain except things related to interests." Blackmore
Lan said.
"You're describing your dad as a mouse with only eyes for cheese, Black! That's disrespectful to me!" James Dolan said, his voice rising a bit.
"Okay, you are a capitalist with a warm smile on your face but a cold heart. How about this?" Even without having to guess, Black Dolan knew that his father must be sitting behind a huge desk with a mouthful of food in his mouth.
Smoking a cigar, signing some document and making a phone call to himself.
"This is a good description. Capitalists are all like this. I mean, no, it was Nancy who said, wait a minute, Ronnie!" James Dolan motioned to Blake Dolan to wait a moment, and then called his assistant's name: "Give it to Si
That guy Cotraden is on the phone. If that bastard ever lets me see a fan send me a damn insulting email again, I will send him back to his hometown in Salt Lake City!"
A few seconds later, James Dolan continued to talk to the phone: "It was Nancy who suggested to me, why not let Blake Jr. coach the Knicks? You did a great job and put your Tiger team into the national championship. God knows
There are only a few teams from more than a thousand universities that can achieve such an honor, what do you think?"
"I don't think it's a good job. I've only been a temporary coach for a few months and found out that it's a tiring job. I have to solve all the problems myself, and at the same time I have to keep my grades from falling, otherwise I won't be able to do it.
Getting a degree is like this for a Princeton college team. I think the Knicks club should be more cumbersome than here. I would still prefer to be a psychiatrist after graduation, find an apartment, hire a beautiful assistant, and work in the Knicks club.
On a warm afternoon, drinking coffee, sitting in the office to receive mental patients who are trying to save themselves, and in my free time, I can chat with my assistant about stories of common interest to us," Black Dolan said.
"Oh my God, I knew it, I knew you were going to say this. I should have disagreed with you going to West Point to study some damn psychology. You should have gone to business school at Harvard or Yale and joined their fraternity or skeletons.
Organizations such as the Association opened up new channels for the family in college. In fact, did you know that becoming a coach or manager of the Knicks is not as tiring as you think? You can leave trivial matters to assistants or other people, or even
Training can also be left to a full-time trainer. You only need to lead the players to victory. And you can also assign yourself a beautiful assistant and use your working time to have in-depth exchanges with her. As a dad,
I won’t dock your salary.” James Dolan said on the other end of the phone….
"Okay, before you talk about me, what did you do at that time? You went to Los Angeles with a broken guitar on your back, hoping to find a company to release your ugly psychedelic rock records. Why didn't you think of doing it for your family at that time?
Open up new channels? Or, do you think that when New York fans loudly call James Dolan a pig, they also add that his son is also a pig? Don't even think about it, I don't want to be the target of the fans to vent their anger.
"Blake Dolan held the phone between his shoulder and head, and made himself a cup of coffee.
"I knew you wouldn't listen to my instructions. How long will it take for you to get that damn psychology degree?" James Dolan asked.
"Soon. Normally, I think it would take two months." Black Dolan thought for a moment and said.
"Then what?"
"Then I'll become a psychiatrist in New York."
"Shit! I will remember to help you promote it. There are too many people on Wall Street who need to see a psychiatrist. Goodbye, son, I shouldn't have made this call!" James Dolan complained.
"Goodbye!" Blake Dolan hung up the phone, took a sip of coffee, and continued to look at the monitor.
…
"This young man surprised me, and even made my arrangements useless. I was so busy!" Billy Donovan said to the team's assistant coach Kate Withers in his office.
"You must have thought how this guy could do what I did, leading the team to the national championship at such a young age. You must have thought so, right, Billy?" Kate Withers said with a smile.
"No, never." Billy Donovan looked at Kate Withers and said, but soon he retreated under Kate's eyes and said with a smile:
"Okay, I admit, I have thought about it this way. He is too young and looks younger than me. I was 30 years old when I coached the University of Florida, but this guy is only 28 years old now."
"And the tactical veteran who played against Michigan State looked more difficult to deal with than you did in 1999? He actually led those kids to break Tom Izzo's horns." Kate Withers seemed to be deliberately teasing.
Billy Donovan, continued.
"Hey Kate! If you're just here to tell me lame jokes, you've accomplished your goal, you've pissed me off!" Billy Donovan said.
"No, actually I found something new. Some Princeton fans recorded preseason games with their own handheld devices. You can watch the two I brought and we can continue the conversation."
With that said, Kate Withers placed the two CDs on Billy Donovan's table.
Billy Donovan immediately put the CD into the player, and then sat in front of the screen. The shaking and rough picture did not affect him, and the noisy cheers could not interfere with his hearing. It was for the Wake Forest University and Princeton Tigers.
Game video.
It wasn't until the video of the entire game ended that Billy Donovan turned his head and found that his old friend was staring at him. Billy Donovan said:
"It's not surprising that Tom Izzo lost. If we hadn't seen this preseason video, maybe even we would have been murdered by that young man."
"Murder?" Kate Withers repeated the word, questioningly.
