Chapter Thirty: Everyone Is Jealous

On the 18th, Reebok announced its partnership with He Xinghui.

Immediately, the sports world was in an uproar.

Even the entertainment industry was affected.

There was no helping it—these past few days, He Xinghui had been the center of attention; even signing an endorsement was enough to make headlines.

Moreover, this time he signed a sneaker deal.

What surprised everyone was that He Xinghui hadn't signed with Nike or Adidas.

Of course, that was a minor detail.

The real shock lay in the contract amount: seven years, ninety-five million dollars. Many people wondered if they were seeing things, perhaps adding an extra zero by mistake.

For context, Chris Paul, the most outstanding rookie of this class, has a Nike contract worth only four years and 2.4 million.

Kobe Bryant's contract is just six years, 48 million.

By prowess and fame, He Xinghui could not yet be compared to Kobe.

"Reebok has lost its mind—its management must have been possessed by some mysterious Eastern magic."

"Reebok is wrecking the market, breaking the rules of the game."

"Give it a year, and Reebok will regret this decision."

Famous commentators instantly jumped in to critique Reebok's move, and without exception, all were pessimistic.

They admitted He Xinghui had considerable commercial value, but certainly not enough to surpass LeBron James.

Reebok's official explanation was that they were confident He Xinghui would become a superstar in the league.

"He is absolutely worth this price. Which rookie can replicate the 'McGrady Moment'? Which rookie can average eighteen points in less than twenty-five minutes of playing time? Which rookie can transform a team, leading them to consecutive victories over strong opponents..."

"Undoubtedly, He will become a superstar. We firmly believe in this partnership..."

Reebok's Laurence delivered a set of official statements, but few bought into it.

Seven years, ninety-five million—those not privy to the details were shocked.

In truth, the executives at Nike and Adidas weren't surprised at all; they were merely cursing Laurence for being so cunning.

On the surface, Reebok offered the highest sum, but getting that money would be the hardest—indeed, it was practically a contractual trap.

Carlos at Adidas believed He Xinghui signed with Reebok out of arrogant confidence, thinking he could achieve all those honors.

His guess was half right.

Regardless of whether the contract was reasonable, He Xinghui’s popularity soared even higher.

News headlines were as sensational as possible—even when some media knew about the incentive clauses, they deliberately concealed them.

After all, once the incentive clauses were revealed, the contract would no longer seem so outrageous.

And things that aren’t outrageous fail to spark curiosity.

Thus, headlines read:

"Five games in and already the league's number one—He."

"Sky-high contract: the last pick rookie signs a seven-year, $95 million deal, surpassing the Little Emperor."

"A rookie with average stats—how can he earn more than Kobe or Iverson?"

...

"Fuck."

Los Angeles, in the visiting locker room, Chris Paul tore the newspaper into uneven halves.

Next, they would be facing the Clippers. Paul, unable to resist, glanced at the sports news, which reported He Xinghui’s sky-high endorsement deal.

Paul felt unsettled.

He wasn't jealous that He Xinghui’s contract was bigger—but that it was so much bigger.

One was an average annual value of $13.6 million, the other $600,000. Paul was just a fraction of He Xinghui’s total—anyone would be annoyed.

Paul was slightly better off; he believed he’d eventually get a big contract himself.

But Mason, the dunk king, whose prospects were bleak and whose temper was worse, had already twisted with jealousy.

He had won the dunk contest and was once popular for his explosive style.

But he never got a big contract; his inefficiency left him wandering the league, with little success.

Now, seeing a rookie sign such a huge deal, he was almost ready to turn dark.

"The times have changed," PJ Brown sighed.

He was a player from the class of ’92; back then, for a contract worth tens or hundreds of thousands, they had to fight tooth and nail, wrestling each other on the court.

Moreover, even working hard for Miami at a paltry salary, once his form slipped, he was immediately traded away to the Hornets.

But now, that kid from the Clippers could earn a $13.6 million annual endorsement just by talking.

Comparisons are infuriating.

"Let’s crush them and vent," David West smiled.

If a company wanted to throw money at He Xinghui, there was nothing they could do.

All they could do was try to embarrass He Xinghui on the court, to win some pride.

"Good idea," JR Smith agreed.

Because of a sky-high endorsement, He Xinghui had become the league's public enemy.

Not just players from other teams—even He Xinghui’s own teammates, upon hearing the news, couldn’t help but sound a bit envious.

Clippers locker room.

"Oh God, why wasn’t I born Chinese?" Mobley looked up and sighed, at this moment yearning to be Chinese.

With his fifteen points per game, if only he had Chinese nationality, he’d have a shot at the All-Star game, a shot at a big contract.

Unfortunately, he was American.

In America, his stats only earned him a mid-level salary—endorsements were out of the question.

"He, how do you get Chinese citizenship?" Chris Kaman asked.

Although changing nationality might be seen as betraying his country, but $95 million! With that much, he’d sell not just his country but the whole planet if aliens offered it.

"Chris, don’t even think about it. As far as I know, Chinese citizenship is the hardest to obtain in the world," Brand quipped.

"Don’t worry, everyone. Bread will come sooner or later. As long as we play exciting games, domestic broadcasters will air more Clippers games, and then everyone will become famous," He Xinghui said.

Compared to players on other teams, those on the Clippers and Rockets could certainly benefit.

Players who know how to leverage this advantage often unlock some commercial value.

"Exactly, some Rocket players have gotten endorsements because of it," Mobley saw hope.

With the astronomical endorsement contract, He Xinghui’s status in the team soared, nearly equal to Brand.

No one dared show off in front of He Xinghui anymore.

With Ricky Davis’s example before them, players now understood that those who can get such contracts would inevitably become the team’s core.

Unless planning to be traded away, there was no point in posturing before the future core.

Now, with the Clippers performing well and their exposure skyrocketing, Los Angeles being a major city, most players had no desire to leave.

As for Brand, he was still the team leader for now.

As for the future, Brand hadn’t thought that far ahead.