
The Many-Worlds Theory of quantum mechanics states that any action that has more than one possible result produces a split in the universe, producing a whole new reality that coexists with all the others.
In early 2003, the Seattle SuperSonics were at a crossroads. Unbeknownst to anyone outside a select few, Howard Schultz and the Basketball Club of Seattle were deep in negotiations with a new potential owner for the franchise. In one reality, the negotiations fell through on a cold, stormy Seattle night, playing a role in the ultimate death of the franchise a few short years later.
In another reality, events unfolded differently … and the course of NBA history was forever changed.
January 7th, 2003
He checked his watch and stared back at his boss, unsure what the deal could be. He’d been asked by him to drive him to Key Arena on this night, of all nights, when Seattle’s weather was being less than kind. It was unusual but he kept his mouth shut; after all, he was just the personal assistant. He got paid really well
not to ask questions but this seemed wrong somehow.
“Joey, how old were you during the Finals run?” the older man asked, his eyes bright with energy. He stood up and began to move, something he did frequently, and made grand gestures with his hands. “I’ve never seen such inspired play … the city rocked like it hadn’t rocked for a long, long time.”
Joey Gustavo, his dark hair still a bit wet and matted from the all the rain outside, nodded. “It was really something, Mr. Ballmer.”
Steve Ballmer shot him a thousand-megawatt smile. “Damn straight it was.”
The moment lasted for mere seconds before the doors to the conference room burst open and the cool face of a man greeted them both. The man shot a look of mistrust and derision at Joey before locking eyes with Ballmer. “We agreed to bring no one else in on this.”
Ballmer face remained stretched into a smile, though there didn’t seem to be much warmth behind it. “Howard, good to see you too.”
It was then that Joey realized who he was looking at: Howard Schultz, the owner of the Sonics. The guy who had issues with the Glove, Gary Payton. The guy a lot of Seattle was losing faith in fast.
Schultz ignored the smile and the words. “I’m not making a deal with him in here.”
Ballmer cast a glance back at Joey and then shrugged at Schultz. “I trust him; I wouldn’t have given him the position otherwise. We’re here to negotiate, not hatch some top-secret plan.”
Schultz’s face scrunched up and he looked like he was going to bolt. He took a half-turn to the door before letting out an audible sigh. Shoulders slumping a little, he turned back around and walked to the conference room table. The large, circular glass table took up a lot of space in the room and made everything seem smaller.
Well, everything but Schultz and Ballmer. The two tycoons seemed to loom over Joey. Schultz took out a thick envelope from his pristine, black coat -- which didn’t look that wet at all -- and set it on the table. He tapped on it twice with his right index finger. “Those are the final papers, everything we agreed to.”
Ballmer walked over, sat down, and opened the envelope. He started scanning through the papers, slowly at first and then picking up speed as he went. After he got done with the last page, he shot out of his chair and looked like an eager child about to get taken to the park. “It’s perfect.” He shot Schultz a sly look. “Albeit, I think your people added a few million to the final price.”
Schultz rubbed his forehead, looking more uncomfortable with every passing second. “I want this over with. This entire thing has been a headache …” He stared at the papers and then shook his head. “Steve --”
Before he could finish the words, Ballmer had a pen in his hand and was quickly signing the papers. It took him only a minute before he was done. He emphatically set the pen on the table and slid it towards Schultz. “Come on, Howard. Don’t back out on me now.”
Schultz looked down at the papers and then back at Ballmer, before finally picking up the pen and signing. He took longer and he looked less than thrilled, but when it was done, it was done. He set the pen down and then took a deep breath. “It’s yours.” He sounded relieved.
Ballmer nodded and Schultz gathered up the papers, putting them back in the envelope. He extended his hand and Ballmer shook it excitedly. “We should go out and celebrate,” Ballmer suggested.
Schultz shook his head. “I have other plans. I’ll get these papers to the league office in the morning … the sale will have to be approved, of course, but with the amount you paid I think they’ll be little issue.” He took a long glance at the window outside, where the storm was letting up, and nodded once. “I’ll see you around.” With that, Schultz left the conference room.
Joey sat there for a long moment before working up the courage to ask, “What was all that about, sir?”
Ballmer’s chest puffed out and he stood tall. “I just bought the Seattle SuperSonics.”
Joey’s mouth hung open. Ballmer had done
what? “But … you …” He couldn’t believe it. His boss was now the owner of the SuperSonics, Seattle’s lone championship winning franchise … it was incredible. Not only was it incredible, it was also unbelievable. “Sir, Schultz just bought the team!” Joey found himself saying despite how happy he was -- not only for the fact he was now working under the owner of the Sonics, but also for the fact that Schultz no longer owned the team. Joey had always been more of a Folgers man than a Starbucks one.
Ballmer grinned broadly. “Two years ago. His investment hasn’t paid off since.” Ballmer looked like he was about to burst and began to pace around the table, his arms moving almost as fast as his legs. “They lost money, more than they thought they would, and the city doesn’t want to deal with them.”
Joey had been following the news for months on this, much like everyone else he knew. The Sonics ownership wanted a new arena or funds to update Key Arena again; the city wasn’t going to budge. Time and time again Schultz had brought up the need for a new arena, but he wasn’t getting anywhere. Things were beginning to look ominous. “But, sir, how in the hell did you convince Schultz to sell?” Schultz was a lifelong basketball fan, a billionaire egomaniac. Selling the Sonics was the biggest admission of failure in the man’s life.
Ballmer stopped for a moment and shrugged. “I gave him four-hundred million dollars; that’s a substantial profit and a business win, no matter how you look at it.” Almost as soon as Ballmer switched into business mode did he switch back into the excited fan-state. “Joey, we’re on the cusp of something great here … I can feel it. I wanted this, something my family can call their own, a legacy for me, my children, and their grandchildren.” He stopped his pacing and stared outside the window, out into Seattle. “Think of it: we’re both on the ground floor of something grand.”
Joey stared out the window to and stood from his seat. “Both?” he asked even though he didn’t want to. He was a nobody. A nothing. He had landed this job out of pity or mercy, he wasn’t sure which. He had graduated four years ago with a degree in computer science and analytics. It wasn’t from a big school -- it was actually quite small -- and it hadn’t impressed any of the tech companies.
It was only by fate or luck Ballmer chose him as his personal assistant, someone young who could keep up with him. Ballmer burned out on assistants like Dan Snyder burned out on quarterbacks. Or head coaches. But, fresh out of college, Joey had been chosen as Ballmer’s guy.
That was four years ago. Now he was 26, making a decent pay, but seemingly stuck being Ballmer’s personal assistant for life. He worked for him and he technically worked for Microsoft, yes, but he had no real experience doing anything of note. In his mind, he was a disappointment.
But everything he ever thought about himself and about his job the last four years went out the window a moment ago.
Ballmer turned around with a sly look in his eyes. “Joey, you’ve been loyal to me for four years running. You’re the longest tenured personal assistant I’ve ever had.” He walked over to the table and placed his hands on it, his excitement tampered down into something Joey had rarely seen: somberness. “You’ve done everything I’ve asked of you, never once complaining, always tackling projects assigned with your best. It’s time you be rewarded for that.”
Joey felt his throat go dry. “Rewarded, sir?”
Ballmer nodded once. “I’m cleaning house. The team needs to be reassessed … this year is over for the Sonics, even I can see that. We need to start planning for next year. I’m hiring a new GM and I’m going to see to it that you get a spot in his staff … you’re going to be working for this team and for me.” A small smile played at his lips. “You’re a fast learner, Joey. There hasn’t been a project I’ve assigned to you that you haven’t excelled in. Your untapped potential is just itching to get out, to be unleashed … finding you the place to do that has been tough. You haven’t been my personal assistant all these years because you’re poor at your job; just the opposite, you’re too damned
good. Anything I threw at it you adapted to pretty fast.”
Head swimming with compliments and the sale of the team and his life, Joey could only nod, his face vacant.
Ballmer went on, unaware or uncaring of Joey’s stunned silence. “You need a challenge; something that’ll make you rise to the occasion and tap into the greatness I know you have.” He repeatedly tapped his index finger into his chest, over and over. “You have heart, passion, but you don’t show it on anything I assign you … you do show it when the Sonics play.”
The Sonics. Images of Payton to Kemp flashed in his mind, George Karl pacing the sidelines and shaking his head, the celebration when the team made it back to the Finals for the first time in nearly two decades … “Sir, I … I don’t know what to say.”
Ballmer walked around the table and heartily slapped Joey on the back. “You say ‘YES’! You’re passionate about basketball, Joey. I hear you cheer for the Sonics when they’re playing on TV, I see you take down notes during the game, I’ve heard legendary stories from your fellow staff members -- past and present -- about how you launch into analytical tangents on the team when they lose.”
Joey’s face flushed. He was bad about the Sonics, everyone knew that … he couldn’t stop talking about them when he started. It was one of the reasons why everyone at the office came to him after big games; if they needed someone to break down why the Sonics won or loss, he was their man. “I … I didn’t realize it was that well known, sir.”
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of; in fact, be proud of it. Too many people go through life drowning in dullness, unwilling to let their passions show for fear of rejection.” He slapped him heartily on the back again. “You don’t hide your colors; the green and gold are part of you.”
Joey took a deep breath. “Sir, it’s too much to ask of you. I’m not qualified to be anything in an NBA organization … I’m a fan, a dedicated fan but still a fan.”
“We’re all fans,” Ballmer countered. “I’m one too. Look at me!” He stepped back and threw out his arms wide. “I just bought the SuperSonics for four-hundred million dollars! I’m a fan who paid
twice as much as the last guy who bought the team
and I’m not done spending money. Key Arena has to grow, it has to be able to compete with the rest of the NBA … and it will, because I’ll finance it. All of it if I have to.” He clapped his hands loudly against the sides of his legs. “I’d feel a lot better putting that money in if I had someone I trusted working in the organization; someone I could grow with.”
Joey felt lightheaded and he pulled out a chair from the conference table, collapsing into it. “Grow with?”
“I’m an owner now. But I’ve never owned a basketball team before, so, like anything else new, I’m going to have to grow into it. Learn. Adjust. Excel.” He pointed a big finger at Joey. “You have an advantage over me; you’re young. You can adjust faster, adapt quicker. You already know a lot about this team and that was
before you were even offered a job with it!” He pounded his fist on the table. “Don’t shrink away from this opportunity because you think it’s too much! If you show your heart,” he said again as he tapped his chest once more, “then you can do
anything.” He held out his hand, the implication clear.
Joey took a big breath and stood from his chair. Four years he’d been working under Steve Ballmer and never once had he been offered a promotion. Never once had he been cited for doing anything wrong. He had never asked why he was passed over, why he was still doing the same thing he was doing as a 22-year-old punk out of college.
He had always wondered why Ballmer had passed him up and now he knew.
“If you want passion …” Joey licked his lips and took Ballmer’s hand, gripping it as hard as he could. “You got it.”
Ballmer laughed loudly and shook his hand back,
hard. “That’s it! All right, we’re going out to celebrate and talk strategy.” He hurriedly parted from Joey and headed to the door, his legs running almost. “There’s a lot to do and a lot to plan for.” He stopped at the doorway and turned to Joey, a gleam in his eye. “Congratulations Mr. Gustavo: you’ve just become my first hire.”