On the night of the loss to the Suns, the noise of the Staples Center faded away. The players were heading out to the clubs to unwind, acting like nothing had happened.
Link, however, was in a sour mood and took the bus back alone.
Gazing out the window of the bus, the missed crucial three-pointer and the team's loss felt like a thorn in his side.
When he opened the apartment door, Andrew was right there to greet him.
"Link! You're back!" Andrew's face showed genuine excitement and concern.
"You played amazing! My God, you and Kobe almost took out the whole damn Suns team! I couldn't believe my eyes!"
Link forced a weak smile and tossed his heavy gym bag into the corner. "But we lost, Andrew. I missed that last shot."
"Oh, come on, man!" Andrew walked over and gave him a powerful hug.
"Listen, every great shooter has missed a clutch shot! Reggie Miller, Ray Allen, even Kobe!"
"Do you know how many air balls Kobe threw back in the day? It never stops him from taking the next one! The point is, you earned the chance, and you were willing to take the responsibility. That makes you better than 99% of the guys out there!"
Andrew handed Link a slice of pizza and grabbed one himself, speaking with his mouth full.
"Look at you! A guy on a ten-day contract stepping up to take the key shot at the buzzer! That's huge in itself! Trust me, Link, you did absolutely nothing wrong!"
Andrew's sincere comfort and unconditional support significantly eased the heavy burden of self-reproach Link felt.
"By the way, where's Amy? Is she still out?" Link remembered something and asked.
"Nah, she's still gone. I don't know what she's been up to the last couple of days. Can barely find her around here," Andrew replied.
Link thought about the letter and nodded thoughtfully.
"Andrew, I'm exhausted. I'm gonna go lay down for a bit," Link rubbed his tired eyes.
The games and training over the last few days had taken a toll on his body, but luckily the team had the day off tomorrow after the back-to-back, so he could get some much-needed rest.
"Go ahead, Link!" Andrew waved him off.
Link went to his room, lay on the bed, and was soon letting out soft snores.
He wasn't sure how much time passed, but through a hazy sleep, he thought he heard his phone ringing.
Link fumbled for his phone on the nightstand and reluctantly pressed the answer button.
"Hello?"
"Hello, is this Mr. Link?"
The voice on the other end sounded steady and professional, but unfamiliar.
"This is him," Link replied, sounding half-asleep.
"Mr. Link, I'm Roger Ayers, the Director of Player Personnel for the San Antonio Spurs."
"..."
The Spurs?!
Link's heart skipped a beat. He shot up in bed, his sleepiness vanished!
"M-Mr. Ayers, hello," Link cautiously replied, unsure of the caller's intention.
"First, I have to say that tonight's game was terrific. Your performance in the second half left a very deep impression on us."
Ayers got straight to the point, his tone sincere. "We've watched your recent game tape. Your off-ball movement and tactical understanding are exceptional."
Link was secretly astonished. The Spurs' scouting department was truly as good as advertised, tracking even a fringe player like him.
"I'll be direct, Link," Ayers continued.
"We believe your skillset is a perfect fit for Coach Popovich's system. You're smart, you don't dominate the ball, and you have great execution. That's exactly the kind of team-oriented player the Spurs need."
Then, Ayers dropped the bombshell.
"We know your ten-day contract with the Lakers is about to expire. We are formally inviting you to come to San Antonio for an in-depth meeting and workout once your contract ends."
"If everything goes well, we are prepared to offer you a one-year, minimum-salary contract worth $700,000."
$700,000!
Link felt his breathing stop. His fingers, gripping the phone, turned white from clenching too hard.
The number exploded in his mind like a thunderclap.
This wasn't just a contract; it was a chance to play for the San Antonio Spurs.
Gregg Popovich's team was known for its deep rotations and rigorous tactical system. With Link's skillset, he would thrive there.
Moreover, this was the 2005 Spurs, featuring Tim Duncan, Tony Parker, and Manu Ginobili...
Playing alongside those legends would allow his off-ball game and shooting to be used to their maximum potential.
A massive wave of elation washed over him, threatening to overwhelm his common sense.
"Mr. Ayers, I... I really appreciate the interest from the Spurs and Coach Popovich! This is truly... very unexpected."
Link's voice was filled with unconcealable excitement.
"We understand you need time to think," Ayers said, seemingly anticipating his reaction.
"San Antonio may not have the glamour of Los Angeles, but we have a winning culture and the best system for developing team-oriented players. Think it over, Link. We look forward to hearing back from you."
The call ended, leaving only the dial tone.
Link slowly lowered his phone, staring blankly into space.
"What happened, Link? You okay?" Andrew knocked on the door, having heard the sudden activity.
Link took a deep breath and opened the door. Looking at the confused Andrew, he said, word for word:
"Just now... the Spurs invited me for a workout. They promised me a one-year, $700,000 contract if things go well..."
"Holy Shit! Seven hundred grand!" Andrew leaped up, gesticulating wildly in the small living room.
"Oh my God, Link! You're gonna be rich! The Spurs! Popovich's Spurs! They're actually interested in you!"
However, after the initial euphoria, Andrew quickly calmed down, noticing the deep conflict in Link's eyes, despite the surprise.
"Wait... so, now you have to..." Andrew sat down, his expression becoming serious.
Link nodded, his gaze complicated.
He never expected to get a call from the Spurs.
The advantages of going to the Spurs were obvious: a stable contract, a premier tactical system, a harmonious team environment, and guidance from a legendary coach like Popovich.
For him right now, the Spurs were undoubtedly the ideal landing spot, a place where he could maximize his strengths and avoid internal conflict with players like Smush Parker.
Plus, the $700,000 contract represented a level of financial security that was hard to resist.
In contrast, the Lakers offered an unpleasant start, hostility from a teammate, and an uncertain future. Compared to the Spurs, it was night and day.
Moreover, a powerhouse like the Lakers is ruthless; outside of Kobe, they could cut anyone at any time.
But...
Link had an ambition deep down.
Reborn in 2005, what he desired wasn't just to be a role player on a championship team, but to become a superstar like Kobe or LeBron.
With the system backing him up, all he needed was time. Teaming up with Kobe to restore the Lakers to glory was an almost irresistible temptation.
Link sank into deep thought.