American Adventure: My Uncle is Don Quixote

In the Angus Hall, all eyes were on John Mara.

John Mara, what are you going to do?

John Mara didn’t even give him the time of day.

He slowly lifted the glass of water he’d brought with him, took a sip, and then gently tapped his fingers on the tabletop.

Howard Payne’s brow furrowed even deeper.

"Howard," John Mara finally said slowly, "I’ve seen all the data you mentioned. I’m aware of it all."

"But I still don’t understand," he said, staring at Howard. "What does this have to do with the Giants? Have we broken any rules?"

Everyone in the room fell silent.

"You see," John Mara said with a smile, spreading his hands, "since the Giants haven’t violated any regulations, then all this stuff you’re talking about—people not watching other games, declining profits for the betting industry, sponsors reducing their investments, and so on."

He looked at the crowd and said, "It’s all bullshit."

His attitude was crystal clear.

Go ahead and sue me if you have the guts.

"Besides," John Mara said, glancing at the operations director of the Giants’ rivals, the Dallas Cowboys, "I think certain weaker teams should focus on their own shortcomings instead of always plotting against others."

"Say what you mean," the Dallas Cowboys’ operations director roared, slamming his hand on the table. "Why are you staring at me?"

John Mara clicked his tongue in mock wonder. "I didn’t name any names. Why did you jump out? Or do you also think your Dallas Cowboys are a weaker team?"

"42 to 3," he said, shaking his head. "What a disgraceful score. Thankfully, even at our most shameful, the Giants never put up numbers like that. Otherwise, we’d really be nailed to a pillar of shame."

With that, he let out a cheerful laugh.

The Dallas Cowboys’ operations director’s face turned beet red, and the pimples on his face looked like they were about to pop.

The owner of the San Francisco 49ers, Jed York, who was sitting next to him, quickly pulled him back, afraid John Mara would anger him into having a stroke on the spot. That would truly make him a laughingstock.

"Haaaah..." He calmed himself. "I’m not here to dredge up the past. What’s past is past. But you can’t ignore the joint demand of eighteen teams. That represents more than half the voices in the league."

"Half," John Mara nodded. "And the other half?"

"The other half doesn’t support you either, Mr. Mara," Jed York said, crossing his arms. "They just don’t want to publicly oppose you."

He was the youngest of the 32 team owners and the only owner to personally step up and confront John Mara.

"They’re just watching from the sidelines," Jed York said. "They’re waiting for tonight’s outcome. If you can present a solution today, they’ll be at ease. If you can’t, at least six of the remaining thirteen teams will join us."

"Twenty-four teams. That’s already two-thirds," John Mara nodded, then turned to the general manager of the Kansas City Chiefs. "Brett Veach, do you have anything to say?"

Before this year’s Super Bowl, the universally acknowledged dynasty team was, in fact, the Kansas City Chiefs.

Patrick Mahomes had held the throne as the league’s number one Quarterback for many years straight.

Then Li Wei came along, drove a Mack truck right over Mahomes, and while he was at it, beat the Chiefs into the ground.

If the Dallas Cowboys were the Giants’ greatest rivals, then the Kansas City Chiefs were definitely the ones with the biggest beef with Li Wei.

The Chiefs’ pride was Li Wei’s doormat.

Brett Veach had been silent from the beginning, right until John Mara called his name.

"Mr. Mara," he said, choosing his words carefully. "Everyone here has been grinding it out in this industry for a lifetime. I’m not going to talk to you about ratings or sponsors. We don’t care about that."

He looked at John Mara. "I only care about one thing," he said. "Competitive fairness."

"Li Wei is indeed too strong," he paused. "He acts like a domineering client, and we’re like whores in a brothel. He fucks whoever he wants, however he wants."

Howard Payne’s mouth twitched.

The words were coarse, but the logic was sound. Even so, it was a bit too vulgar.

"If he wants to score 100 points in the first half, he scores 100 points. If he wants to shut you out in the second half, you don’t score a single point," Brett Veach continued. "You can call him a genius, the greatest genius in history, the yellow-skinned God, King—call him whatever you want. I’ll accept it; the whole league accepts it. But the problem isn’t that he went undefeated this season—the problem is that he’s only nineteen, and he can keep winning forever."

"This was his first year, and he was already able to control the score in the last few games of the regular season," he said, looking at the special advisor from Las Vegas. "But what about next year? The year after that?"

"When he realizes he can actually decide the outcome of any game, when he realizes he can make anyone win or lose on a whim—"

"At that point," his gaze swept over everyone in the room, "do you think anyone will still watch the NFL? Will anyone care about the games? Everyone will know the other teams can’t win. Why not just wait for the Super Bowl every year and watch Li Wei take the championship?"

"When all the young players know they’ll never win a Super Bowl, when a loyal fan knows their team will never have a chance to hoist the Lombardi Trophy," he said, "maybe there won’t be any obvious change in three or five years, because the NFL is massive. But what about ten years from now?"

Angus Hall fell silent once more.

This was the core of the eighteen teams’ fear—not that Li Wei was too strong, but the chain reaction his overwhelming strength would trigger.

One undefeated season was terrifying enough.

What if he went on a winning streak for the next ten years?

The NFL’s revenue sharing, salary cap, draft system, fan base—the entire system of competitive balance that had been maintained for 100 years—would all collapse because of one man.

The owners, coaches, and players of all 32 teams—everyone would be at the mercy of one person.

That was what truly terrified them.

"John," Howard Payne spoke up again, taking advantage of the silence. "You see, the root of the problem is clear. We aren’t trying to discredit Li Wei. We’re worried about the uncontrollable consequences of his talent."

John Mara nodded. "So, an athlete wins every game through his own talent and hard work, and you want to kick him out just because he’s disrupting the balance of the game?"

"Where’s your athletic spirit?"

He stood up, his presence so commanding that it silenced the entire table.

"You’re using these baseless accusations to presume a nineteen-year-old kid is guilty," he said, enunciating every word. "Aren’t you ashamed of yourselves?"

He paused. "If this is how you all think, then I believe we can end today’s negotiations right here. I will not accept any form of threat, nor will I accept any judgment based on assumptions about what might happen ten years from now."

"Then what do you want?"

"It’s not about what I want," John Mara said. "It’s about what you want. I should be at home having dinner right now, not arguing with a bunch of you late at night."

The first round of negotiations ended in a long silence.

「That night, at Fortress City Apartments.」

John Mara personally called Li Wei directly.

"The meeting’s over. They’re trying to use the future to pressure us," his voice was gentle and full of mirth, a complete departure from the man at the negotiating table. "They have absolutely no sincerity."

"What’s the verdict?" Li Wei asked, pausing his game.

"But the first negotiation is always just a probe," John Mara chuckled. "Judging by how things went today, there will be a second round. That’s when they’ll get serious."

"When’s the next round?" Li Wei raised an eyebrow. "The draft is coming up in mid-March."

"Exactly. So the second round should start within three to five days," John Mara said. "Otherwise, it’ll impact their strategic planning."

"Understood," Li Wei said. "Do you need me to do anything?"

"Of course," John Mara laughed heartily. "I need you there to negotiate the terms. And when the time comes, act tough."

"Got it."

Sure enough, just as John Mara predicted, not two days later, the top brass of the NFL Alliance sent invitations to both John Mara and Li Wei’s camp.

The scale of this meeting was on a whole other level compared to the last one.

"This time, the legal, accounting, and business teams will all be there," John Mara said. "I’m trying to get the meeting held at the Giants’ training facility. Home-field advantage. We won’t have to worry about security or confidentiality."

"How many people are expected?" Don Quixote asked.

"Conservatively, people from the eighteen teams, the NFL Alliance, sponsors, the betting industry, our own people—"

"Close to a hundred people," Li Wei concluded.

"Yep. You’re a global superstar now," John Mara teased. "Your career involves hundreds, even thousands of people. How does it feel?"

"My feeling is, if we can’t reach an agreement, we drag it out," Li Wei said, rubbing his chin. "I have the upper hand."

"Wrong," John Mara shook his head. "You need to feel anger, indignation. You need to have that ’On what grounds are you forcing me to retire?!’ kind of feeling. You have to fight back."

"The first meeting has to fall apart," he said. "The goal on day one isn’t to reach an agreement, but to make them think you’d rather die than yield."

"Only then, when we reluctantly make a concession on the second day," Li Wei nodded, "will they feel like they’ve won."

"Exactly," John Mara nodded. "That’s the principle."

Li Wei was beginning to understand why John Mara had been able to hold his position for decades.

...

「Three days later.」

Reporters suddenly noticed that security at the entrance to the Giants’ training facility had tripled overnight.

Four black GMC SUVs blocked the facility’s only public entrance, and all visitors without appointments were turned away.

Inside, the player training areas were also temporarily sealed off. The entire equipment staff and all the trainers were put on paid leave.

Starting at 7 a.m., a steady stream of SUVs and luxury sedans from various regions began arriving at the Giants’ training facility.

Public relations, legal, accounting, business...

The people getting out of each car carried laptops and briefcases, their expressions grim.

It was understandable, though. They were being called in to work overtime during their vacation; it would be strange if they looked happy.

After security verified their identities one by one, they all signed a 17-page non-disclosure agreement with a penalty for breach high enough to buy all of Los Angeles.

After signing, they were led into a large conference hall on the first floor of the training facility.

This hall was originally used for preseason tactical briefings but had now been converted into a negotiation room, dominated by a massive U-shaped table.

When Li Wei entered with Don Quixote and Jin Heon, Jin Heon was taken aback.

A quick glance revealed at least a hundred people dressed in black suits.

The various parties took their seats, with John Mara and Li Wei in the front row.

Howard Payne stood up. "Everyone," he said, "we have only one item on the agenda today—a proposal for adjusting the professional status of New York Giants Quarterback Li Wei."