Basketball System: Hate Makes Me Unstoppable

When Han Sen returned from his vacation, David Griffin quickly paid him a visit.

During their initial discussions, Han had emphasized one thing: draft picks.

Given how difficult it was to attract top-tier free agents to Cleveland, their best hope for building a contender was nailing their draft selections. Especially now, since three of their next five first-round picks were shipped to Memphis in the deal to acquire Han, those remaining picks were even more precious.

Griffin's visit had a clear purpose — he wanted Han's input on trade options.

The Cavaliers' trade assets were limited, and without touching their draft capital, the available upgrades weren't exactly impressive.

Han knew that. But even with those constraints, when Griffin laid out the list of potential trade targets, one name left Han a little stunned.

JaVale McGee.

Yep, the same JaVale McGee that Han remembered as "Shaqtin' a Fool's" most frequent guest.

McGee had been a starter early in his career with the Wizards but had since slid to a bench role in Denver, where injuries significantly reduced his playing time over the past two seasons.

Denver had signed him to a 4-year, $44 million deal in 2012, and he still had about a season and a half left on that contract.

The trade was simple — Andrea Bargnani for McGee. Salary-matching was perfect, and Cleveland could even snag a protected first-round pick from Denver in the deal.

Han immediately passed.

Sure, McGee had the size, length, and athleticism that made him an ideal small-ball center for this era. But his basketball IQ? That wasn't just low; it was catastrophically low.

If JR Smith looked like a wild card at times, McGee was a full-on glitch in the system. Bringing in McGee would turn the Cavaliers into a juvenile detention center rather than a serious contender.

Han wasn't interested in playing the role of warden.

Next on the list was Timofey Mozgov.

Denver had drafted Jusuf Nurkic, who was showing promise, making both McGee and Mozgov expendable.

Mozgov had one and a half years left on his contract at a much more reasonable price — around $10 million over two years, with the second year being a team option.

His numbers? 8.5 points, 7.8 rebounds, and 1.2 blocks per game — solid, dependable, and capable of protecting the rim.

But there was a catch.

The Nuggets wanted two protected first-round picks.

Han recalled that in "history," the Cavaliers actually did acquire Mozgov at this very trade deadline.

Mozgov's strengths were obvious:

- Excellent shot-blocker.

- Explosive around the rim.

- Strong in traditional defensive schemes.

But his weaknesses?

- Lateral quickness was a disaster.

- Useless on switches.

- Couldn't guard out to the perimeter, which was essential in today's evolving NBA.

In short, Mozgov was a regular-season big who might be unplayable in critical playoff games when teams relentlessly exploit defensive mismatches.

Han shook his head.

If they could swap Spencer Hawes for Mozgov? Sure.

But two first-round picks? Not worth it.

Han went through the rest of the list, and frankly, most of the names weren't exciting.

Big men who could truly make an impact in today's game were rare. The league was moving away from traditional centers, and anyone who could thrive in the modern era wasn't going to be easy to acquire.

But then, one name made Han stop in his tracks.

Kevin Garnett.

Wait… what?

KG was 39 years old, averaging 7.5 points and 6.8 rebounds on a tanking Celtics team. His shooting percentage had plummeted to 45.5%, and his best days were clearly behind him.

Also, Han knew that Garnett had a no-trade clause in his contract.

Then it hit him — KG went back to Minnesota this year.

He was traded back to the Timberwolves to finish his career where it all began, a sentimental move to close the circle.

Would Garnett waive his no-trade clause to come to Cleveland of all places?

Not a chance.

Han chuckled. Honestly, there was a better shot at Kevin Durant wanting to join the Cavs.

Still, the idea made Han smile. If he somehow convinced KG to join Cleveland, the narrative would be wild.

Imagine the headlines: "Han Sen Forms a Big Three with KG!"

Garnett wouldn't even need to contribute much on the court. His mere presence would spark a media frenzy.

And if Han leaned into the whole "superteam" villain role, his hater points would skyrocket.

"Let's keep an eye on KG," Han told Griffin. "If he doesn't waive his no-trade clause, we might be able to get him after a buyout."

...

Time flew by, and before anyone realized it, the trade deadline was here.

And boy, did it start with a bang.

Miami Heat acquired the Dragic brothers from Phoenix in a blockbuster deal!

The Heat sent two future first-round picks and a package of players to the Suns in exchange for Goran and Zoran Dragic.

Wait… what?

Was Pat Riley playing 2K?

With this trade, the Heat's new starting five looked scary:

Dragic, Wade, Durant, Deng, and Gasol.

It was clear — the Heat were going all in.

But there was a catch. The two first-round picks they sent to Phoenix?

2017 (two years from now). 2021 (six years from now).

Both were unprotected.

There was a lot riding on this.

Why?

Kevin Durant's contract expired in 2016.

If Miami didn't win it all by then, Durant might leave.

And if Durant left, those picks would become extremely valuable — a potential lottery goldmine for Phoenix.

The Suns weren't just giving Dragic away for nothing. They were making a calculated bet that Miami could implode in the near future.

In fact, Dragic had already made it clear he wanted out. The Suns had three starting-caliber point guards — Dragic, Eric Bledsoe, and Isaiah Thomas — which created chaos in the locker room.

The team's decision to go with a dual point guard system led to frustrations across the board.

Last season, Dragic averaged 20.3 points and 5.9 assists. Now, his numbers had dipped, and he wasn't happy about it.

The Suns realized they couldn't keep him happy and cashed in while they could.

The Heat were gambling big. Pat Riley knew that if Miami didn't win a championship in the next two seasons, Kevin Durant would be gone.

Whether the recent loss to the Cavaliers before the All-Star break played a role in this aggressive trade was anyone's guess.

But one thing was certain — the Heat's roster was now terrifying. Their starting five of Dragic, Wade, Durant, Deng, and Gasol, combined with a bench rotation of Chalmers, Sefolosha, and Vucevic, was enough to make any playoff opponent despair.

As the trade deadline approached, teams across the league started making their moves.

The Thunder sent Reggie Jackson to the Pistons in a three-team deal and landed Enes Kanter from the Jazz to bolster their frontcourt.

The Lakers, desperate to fill the void left by Varejao's season-ending injury, gave up two protected future first-round picks and some minor assets to acquire Timofey Mozgov from the Nuggets.

Meanwhile, the Celtics, continuing their rebuild, traded the Grizzlies' first-round pick they had previously acquired, along with some minor pieces, to the Suns for Isaiah Thomas.

The Suns, having shipped out both Dragic and Thomas, promptly acquired Brandon Knight in another three-team deal.

At this point, it was obvious why Dragic wanted out of Phoenix — the team's front office had no clue what they were doing. They had just offloaded two starting-caliber point guards and immediately traded for another.

Honestly, sometimes NBA general managers made you wonder if JR Smith was secretly running their front offices.

In that same three-team trade, the 76ers sent Michael Carter-Williams to the Bucks in exchange for a future first-round pick.

Once upon a time, MCW's debut had shocked the league.

His first NBA game stat line: 22 points, 7 rebounds, 12 assists, and 9 steals — just shy of a quadruple-double.

During his first week in the league, he averaged 20.7 points, 9 assists, and 4.3 steals, leading the Sixers to a 3-0 start and becoming the second rookie since Shaquille O'Neal to win Player of the Week honors.

Back then, fans said he was living up to his name, like the protagonist of a cheat-mode sports novel.

Though his performance dipped after that hot start, MCW still averaged 16.7 points, 6.2 rebounds, and 6.3 assists in his rookie season, winning Rookie of the Year.

And now? He was traded in just his second season.

For the Bucks, acquiring MCW was like adding a turbo boost to their young core.

But Han knew the truth.

MCW, like Mozgov, was born in the wrong era.

His defense and playmaking were solid, but his lack of shooting was a fatal flaw in the small-ball era. Without a reliable jumper, point guards like him would struggle to stay relevant.

As time would prove, Ben Simmons would become the most vivid example of this issue.

Finally, as the trade deadline came to a close, the Cavaliers and Celtics struck a deal.

The Cavs sent Andrea Bargnani to Boston in exchange for…

Kevin Garnett.

KG was really coming to Cleveland!

Han didn't have time to figure out how the trade happened or why Garnett waived his no-trade clause. He grabbed his 58 burner accounts and immediately started spreading the "superteam" narrative on social media.

He even threw in a comparison to Shaquille O'Neal's stint with the Cavs to spice things up.

Who cared about 37 versus 39 years old or All-NBA credentials? Those were just details to be ignored.

As Han expected, the narrative exploded online.

Especially from LeBron fans.

For years, they had been searching for proof that Han was just as guilty of forming superteams. And now, they had it.

From the Heat's big move to the Cavs' headline-grabbing acquisition, this trade deadline was insane.

In fact, 41 players were traded, making it the busiest trade deadline in NBA history.

It felt like the aftermath of Jordan's first retirement, with GMs across the league desperately chasing a championship after the Grizzlies' dynasty crumbled.

Two days after the deadline, during a Cavaliers practice session, Tyronn Lue strolled into the gym, laughing and chatting with Kevin Garnett at his side.

No one knew how Lue had pulled this off — he and KG had never been teammates.

But there he was, guiding KG straight toward Han Sen.

When they met, Garnett greeted Han with a handshake and shoulder bump.

"Welcome to Cleveland Village." Han welcomed him with humor.

Sure, Han was curious why KG came, but that wasn't the focus right now. The important thing was — he was here.

Even if Garnett wasn't the "Big Ticket" anymore, his experience could be invaluable to a young, playoff-inexperienced Cavaliers squad.

As far as past grudges went, if KG didn't care, Han wasn't going to, either.

After their chat, Garnett made his way around, greeting the rest of the team.

KG's legacy still commanded respect. Even if his best days were behind him, his reputation as one of the fiercest competitors was well known.

Lue originally just wanted KG to introduce himself and get acquainted, but things quickly took a different turn.

KG stripped off his warm-up gear.

"I'm not here to coast."

He interrupted Lue mid-sentence and made his intentions clear.

After a quick warm-up, Garnett joined the team's full-court scrimmage.

What surprised Han was how seamlessly KG fit into the "four-out, one-in" system.

Despite never playing in this modern offensive style, KG's high basketball IQ was on full display.

People used to say Garnett was the smartest big man in the league, capable of playing all five positions.

While that might have been an exaggeration, it was clear KG still had a keen understanding of spacing and positioning.

But what shocked Han more than KG's court smarts was his attitude.

KG's trash talk didn't stop for a second.

Han had played against KG before and knew his mouth never stopped, but this was next-level intensity.

What was supposed to be a regular practice suddenly felt like a playoff game.

By the time practice ended, most of the players who had initially welcomed KG were now avoiding him.

Even Cunningham couldn't help but complain to Han.

"Man, David brought us a cranky old dad."

In American slang, "old dad" referred to someone grumpy and overbearing.

Han simply patted Cunningham on the shoulder without saying much.

KG wasn't pretending.

No one would intentionally piss off their new teammates on Day One.

The only logical explanation?

That's just who KG was.

Was that a bad thing?

Han didn't think so.

In fact, it reminded him of the role he played back in Memphis.

Sometimes, every team needs a villain to push them harder.

-End of Chapter-