Converse, Under Armour, Xtep, Li-Ning and the like.
Every major company tabled an offer.
Money-wise, the figures either edged past adidas or dwarfed them—but the contracts ran longer.
Or the total was lower yet the yearly average higher.
Either way, they hovered around 7 years and 80 million, leaving Jeff Augustine to weigh each brand's market clout and future potential.
Yet in truth.
Augustine knew perfectly well the only outfit that could truly rival adidas was Nike.
Let's hear Nike's bid first.
If the number's too low to consider, he'll still pit the rest against adidas.
Nike still needs time?
Not at all. Every shoe company, seeing Su Yan's stellar play backed by the colossal China market,
was burning with urgency.
Nike was, if anything, even antsier.
They'd once underestimated Yao Ming—and the China market—letting a top-tier star slip away.
Even though a Center's signature shoes are a tough sell,
Yao still earned Reebok a fortune on the sheer size of China.
This time the player is a Small Forward with a flashier game and a prettier face: Su Yan.
Nike could not afford another miss.
While the New York Knicks flew to OKC, Nike's endorsement manager called Augustine.
He cut straight to it.
He slammed a 7-year, $90 million deal on the table—matching the one LeBron had signed.
A clear message to Augustine:
Nike believes Su Yan's future pull will reach LeBron's level.
And the price tops adidas.
"Damn… they're bold!"
Augustine was startled yet, on reflection, not surprised.
If Su Yan keeps this standard, he'll soon be the flag-bearer of the small ball era.
Add the China market
and his own face that reels in fans by the million,
and surpassing LeBron down the line is entirely possible.
The fat offer surprised him a little, but mostly it narrowed the field.
Under Armour, Converse—out.
Chinese and other second-tier brands—also out; no fame, no future, no matter the cash.
Now
with Nike in the fight,
it's down to two giants: adidas vs Nike. Highest bid wins Su Yan!!!
11 a.m.
The Knicks touched down in Oklahoma City, checked into the hotel, grabbed lunch, then rested.
All the way until 5 p.m.
Fully recharged, they boarded the bus to the Ford Center, stashed their gear in the locker room.
In twos and threes
they headed for the arena cafeteria.
Su Yan, Stephen Curry, McGrady and David Lee walked in together.
Trays loaded,
they'd barely sat down
when, right next to them, the Thunder's big three arrived with their own trays.
The two groups glanced over; no one spoke.
It felt like the calm before a storm.
No grudge between us—ESPN stirred the pot.
McGrady, the veteran, shrugged it off with a grin: "ESPN loves drama; we didn't say a word.
No need for hostility."
"Exactly."
Curry nodded. "I only met Harden once at the draft; the rest I'm seeing for the first time.
Yet it feels like blood feud."
"Ha!"
David Lee chuckled. "ESPN's hype might be half the story.
The other half? adidas just gave Yan a shoe deal bigger than Kevin's—that's probably what stings."
"Not my fault,"
Su Yan said, laughing. "Am I supposed to turn down money and live in someone's shadow?"
"Damn right."
McGrady backed him. "It's Yan's talent. Kevin, if you're so great, why didn't you top LeBron's deal back then?"
"Well said!"
Curry gave a thumbs-up.
Su Yan waved it off. "Let it go. We eat; acting jumpy only makes it worse."
Don't provoke,
but don't back down either.
They'd have happily said hi—better friends than foes—
but if the other side keeps the cold shoulder, so be it.
They ate in peace.
A few minutes later—
"Whoa—"
The whole cafeteria erupted as if something huge had happened.
Whispers flew:
"Look—Salena's here!" (see paragraph comments)
"My God, the sexy bombshell Salena, in a town like OKC?
Must be here for someone special."
"This is the Thunder trio's turf—bet she came for Kevin."
"Pretty sure.
Didn't Durant once say in an interview he adores Salena, calls himself her… fan?"
"Holy sh—
A two-way crush?!"
"Oh my God—look! She's walking toward Kevin—she really is!!!"
"…"
Fans in the hall stared, slack-jawed.
Envy filled the room.
Third-year Durant, already a star, had pocketed a $70 million rookie extension and was now worth north of nine figures.
Not classically handsome, yet he carried a quirky magnetism.
Salena blazed across Hollywood screens.
They looked a perfect match.
And, truth be told, 25-year-old Salena in her prime was stunning.
Porcelain skin, legs for days.
At 5-3 she wasn't tall, but her proportions screamed supermodel: long limbs, killer curves.
Body-wise,
even Meng Meng might lose out.
Only Rebecca—or a fully-grown Marcia—could rival her.
Beyond that,
Salena radiated mature, sultry charm uniquely hers,
a spell that turned heads everywhere.
sexy bombshell—
the label fit her like a glove.
Thud-thud-thud!
Durant's heart pounded.
Hearing the buzz, watching Salena stride straight toward him, remembering his public crush,
he was certain she'd come to confess.
Joy surged.
Love, he felt, was seconds away.
Salena approached, smile dazzling.
Durant drew a deep breath, rose like a gentleman, ready to receive her words.
She walked past without a glance, kept going.
Then
she stopped in front of Su Yan, extended her hand, and purred: "Hi, Su Yan—I'm your biggest fan!!!"
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