The Michael Finley Sweepstakes

Free agent Michael Finley's camp had a master schedule planned.

His four suitors have plenty of title potential. Last year's Final Four were all scheduled a day to court the 32-year-old this week:
Monday, Miami. Tuesday, Phoenix. Wednesday, Detroit. Thursday, San Antonio.

They went to a neutral site — Finley's hometown, Chicago (well, really, Maywood, IL, but close enough) — and told four teams to get their power points ready. It was Kobe '04 in summer '05.

Although he can't receive more than the $5 million middle-level exception next year, Finley says he really doesn't have money on his mind. Whether he's offered the veteran's minimum in Phoenix or the full mid-level exemption in Miami, pay means little difference to Finley.

Set to receive a cool $51.8 million from the Mavericks, Fin is all about getting a chip in '05-'06.

So being the sly reporter that I am, I taped a micro-microphone in the room where Finley and his suitors would be doing their buizznesss. And, boy, do you have to see this!

Below are some of the best soundbites from each day's negotiations. Enjoy!

***

Monday: Miami Heat

Agent Henry Thomas: Aight, Mike, I want you to take good consideration of these guys.
Finley: What do you mean?
Thomas: Just pay attention. The Heat reps should be here any minute now.
Finley: Good, I hope they brought food.
(Door opens. Tall, dark, team president Pat Riley strolls in followed by short, balding coach Stan Van Gundy, struggling with a large cardboard box.)
Riley: (regally) Good morning, gentlemen.
Finley: Really?
Riley: Uh, yes ... Stan, you can put that down now!
Van Gundy: Thanks, boss.
(Drops the box in front of Finley.)
Finley: Man, get away from me! You're drippin' sweat all over my J's! Plus, you smell like a hog!
Van Gundy: Mike, don't you remember me?
Finley: No.
Van Gundy: I was one of your coaches at Wisconsin.
Finley: Then what are you doing with Miami?
Thomas: What's in the box, Pat?
Riley: Good question. But I'm going to let you guess what it is first, Mike.
Finley: Shaq?
Van Gundy: Um, I'd be sweating a bit more.
Finley: Dwyane Wade?
Thomas: Also my client, but I'm sure that's not part of the contract.
Finley: Your mid-level exception?
Riley: Oh, that will definitely come, but in a much smaller package.
Finley: Well, I don't know then.
Riley: We thought you looked pretty good in red and white.
Finley: Psst, Henry, the Bulls aren't scheduled for today, are they?
Thomas: Just look, Mike.
(Riley opens the cardboard box, unveiling 20 posters of Finley wearing a Heat jersey that had been placed on poles next to American Airlines Arena.)
Finley: Damn, I do look good! What are they for?
Riley: Well, I guess they're for you.
Van Gundy: They were supposed to be street pole signs.
(Riley shoots an evil glare.)
Finley: Thanks, guys ... This'll be good for my bath towel collection.
Van Gundy: Glad to help.
Finley: Anything else?
Riley: Whatever you want.
Finley: How 'bout lunch?
(Riley eventually offers $5 million while dining at The Cheesecake Factory.)

***

Tuesday: Phoenix Suns

Thomas: Aight, Mike, day two.
Finley: Fo' sho'. Fo' sho'.
Thomas: You getting' used to this yet?
Finley: Not really, man. It's only day two.
(Door opens. Phoenix president Bryan Colangelo, managing partner Robert Sarver, coach Mike D'Antoni, Amaré Stoudemire, Shawn Marion, and Raja Bell squeeze through the narrow doorway all at once. Bell struggles with a large cardboard box.)
Thomas: Gentlemen.
Phoenix six: We want Finley! We want Finley! We want Finley! Yeeeeaaah!
Colangelo: Can I get an adlib?
Phoenix six: Yeeeeaaah!
Colangelo: Just like Jeezy.
Finley: All right, now I'm real confused.
Sarver: So why should Mike choose Phoenix over anywhere else?
Finley: What, is this a rhetorical question?
Stoudemire: Mike can play with close friend Steve Nash!
Finley: What?!
Colangelo: Okay!!
Finley: What???!!!
Colangelo: OKAY!!!!!
Marion: Mike could play a big role on a team that won 62 games last season!
Bell: And Mike's familiar with the organization and the city, as it was the Suns who originally drafted Mike out of Wisconsin back in 1995!
Sarver: All right, thanks, boys. You can step back outside now.
(Stoudemire, Marion, and Bell warily turn around and walk out door with heads low.)
Finley: So what's in the box? Posters of me in a Phoenix uniform?
Colangelo: Shoot, should've thought of that!
D'Antoni: No, Mike, actually, it's e-mail.
Finley: Man, don't take me for stupid. I know e-mail's a computer thing!
Sarver: Oh, we don't think you're stupid at all, Mike.
D'Antoni: We printed out the e-mail.
Finley: Oh, forest preservers, I see.
D'Antoni: There's such a thing called recycling, you know.
Finley: Just open the box before I kick y'all crazies out of here!
D'Antoni: All right, all right!
Finley: I don't like your accent.
(D'Antoni opens the box, revealing 5,000 fan e-mails.)
Sarver: (reading a piece of notebook paper) Just in case Mike forgot, several of the Suns have placed calls to Finley to remind him and let him know how much they want him here. But we want to take it a step further.
Colangelo: Right, we brought 5,000 emails from fans that wanted to show respected and share their favorite Michael Finley memories.
Finley: Suns fans?
Colangelo: Yeah.
Finley: Dude, I played 27 games for y'all before you dealt me! They don't know me!
Sarver: (motioning toward the door) Here, let us take you out to eat.
Finley: Wait! You expect me to read 5,000 emails? What am I supposed to do with all these?
Colangelo: Recycling!
(Colangelo eventually offers $1.1 million while dining at Park Grill.)

***

Wednesday: Detroit Pistons

Finley: Where is everyone?
(The Pistons eventually offer Dale Davis and Maurice Evans its middle-level exception.)
Finley: Henry?
Finley: It's day three, right? ... Henry?

***

Thursday: San Antonio Spurs

Finley: Where were you yesterday?
Thomas: I left a message on your phone saying that the Pistons cancelled.
Finley: Man, you know I don't have a phone!
Thomas: Since when?
Finley: Since I got that Sidekick last year.
Thomas: Whatever ... day four at the door.
Finley: Fo' sure.
Thomas: Money?
Finley: We want some more!
Thomas: Hey, we should pitch that to Ron Artest.
Finley: Definitely.
(Door slowly opens. San Antonio president John Diller and coach Gregg Popovich peak their head through a crack.)
Popovich: Whew, they're still here.
Diller: Um...
Popovich: All right, let's go in.
Finley: What's good, Pop?
Popovich: Well, three rings in seven years is a pretty good thing. Not the best, but pretty darn good.
Thomas: I think Mike meant what's up.
Popovich: Oh ... nothing, Mike.
Thomas: Haven't you heard that expression when you're coaching?
Popovich: Huh?
Thomas: Never mind.
Finley: (looking at Diller) And who are you?
Diller: Um...
Popovich: Sorry, I told him not to talk. Spurs president John Diller.
Finley: Right.
Thomas: So what do you have to offer today?
Finley: No, cardboard boxes or anything?
Popovich: Cardboard boxes?
Thomas: So you don't have anything to offer?
Popovich: Oh, we do. Just no boxes.
Finley: Damn, I was hoping for 100 pairs of Jordans.
Popovich: One, championships.
Thomas: Okay.
Popovich: Two, a low-key locker room.
Finley: No PlayStations?!
Popovich: And, three, the chance to play with Tim Duncan.
Finley: Tim Duncan, man. Does he even talk to his teammates?
Popovich: Mostly in his sleep.
Thomas: I don't even want to know.
Popovich: Honestly, Mike, we came prepared to come home empty-handed.
Finley: Man, you can go home with have my autograph.
Popovich: Figure of speech, Mike.
Finley: Oh yeah, like “shaving dry”?
Popovich: Uh, sure ... We probably should get going, but can we at least take you out to eat?
Finley: That's what I was waiting for.
(Diller eventually offers $2.5 million while dining at Portillo's.)