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在上週分享了 Project Zero 的願景、使命與核心價值初稿後，我開始嘗試勾勒出這個計劃的路線圖。

說真的，一團混亂。有些想法看起來合理，有些還停留在模糊的直覺裡。內心深處，我其實還是不知道下一步該怎麼走。

但我知道，不能一直停在原地。

所以我把這份還很粗糙的構想，傳給了松井教練——那位曾經擔任日本B3球團金澤武士團助理教練、最早啟發我這個瘋狂想法的人。

我本來期待他給我一些建議，可能指出哪裡可以優化。

但他卻只說了一句話：

「最重要的是主場所在地（hometown）。」

不是商業模式、不是招募規劃、也不是行銷策略。

「你必須選一個你熱愛的地方，也要是一個當地人會愛上的地方。如果沒有歸屬，那一切就不會真正開始。」

這一句話，讓我重新思考一切。

沒錢怎麼撐？日本小球隊的真實故事

當然，我還是會擔心現實問題。雖然有人對這個計劃感興趣，也有人說想幫忙，但最後，不管是做行銷、跑行政、規劃營運的人，他們都值得被合理對待。

所以我問松井教練：「那日本的小球隊，剛開始的時候是怎麼辦到的？沒錢怎麼撐？」

他毫不猶豫地回答：「多數 B3 球隊會有企業母公司支持。但很多球隊在剛起步時，只會付薪水給洋將。其他人都是義工或者是領著最低薪水。三重、品川的球隊早期都靠大學生實習生維持運作。大家就是這樣撐下來的。」

不是因為有捷徑，而是因為沒有其他選擇。

這讓我起了好奇心，我開始自己查資料、研究案例。

我發現了一些讓我意外的事：鹿兒島、金澤、山口、香川這些 B3 球隊，沒有龐大的預算，沒有完美的制度，大多數也不是從順風順水開始的。但他們都有一個共同點——他們先選定了一個主場城市，然後與在地建立深度連結。

從志工變成球團經理

有一個案例，我印象特別深刻。

在東京聯合籃球俱樂部（TUBC），有一位職員叫做神田康太（Kota Kanda）。他一開始，只是來當活動志工。沒職稱、沒報酬，只是來幫忙。

之後，他變成了實習生。而現在，他是球隊的贊助夥伴經理（Partnership Manager）。

不是靠履歷打天下，而是因為他從一開始就相信這個計劃，並且在最混亂、最沒把握的時候，仍然選擇留下。

這種故事，我們不常聽見。但也許，這才是真正建立球隊的方式——不是靠資源、不是靠公式，而是靠相信，以及一起成長的過程。

我們的主場，該選在哪裡？

這種模式，在馬來西亞有可能實現嗎？

我們還沒有主場，沒有球員，沒有資金，也沒有全職的工作人員。但我們擁有也許更重要的東西：一個值得探索的問題、一股正在成形的動能，還有一些願意相信、願意開始的人。

現在我想問問你：

如果真的要成立這支球隊，你覺得哪一個城市、哪一個社區，最適合作為我們的主場？

是你成長的地方嗎？是你覺得被忽略、但潛力十足的地方？還是，一個你願意為它吶喊、為它加油的地方？

更具體地說：你心中的理想主場需要具備什麼條件？如果是你的家鄉，你覺得當地社區會如何回應這樣的計劃？

我們不急著定案，但我知道，答案會慢慢浮現。

因為主場，不是選出來的，是一起走出來的。

我真的不知道這樣的模式在馬來西亞行不行得通。

但我覺得值得一試。

就像幾年前訪問「黑人」陳建州時他說過的一句話：「Never try, never know.」

是的，不試，怎麼會知道？

— Jordan

🇬🇧 ENGLISH VERSION

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You Must First Choose a Hometown

After sharing Project Zero's vision, mission, and core values last week, I started trying to sketch out a roadmap for this project.

Honestly, it was a mess. Some ideas seemed reasonable, others were still stuck in vague intuition. Deep down, I still didn't know what the next step should be.

But I knew I couldn't keep standing still.

So I sent this rough draft to Coach Matsui—the former assistant coach of Japan's B3 team Kanazawa Samuraiz who first inspired this crazy idea.

I expected him to give me some advice, maybe point out areas for improvement.

But he only said one thing:

"The most important thing is the hometown."

Not the business model, not the recruitment plan, not the marketing strategy.

"You must choose a place you love, and a place the locals will fall in love with. Without belonging, nothing will truly begin."

That one sentence made me rethink everything.

How Do You Survive Without Money? Real Stories from Japanese Teams

Of course, I still worry about practical issues. While people are interested in this project and some say they want to help, ultimately, whether they're doing marketing, administration, or operations planning, they all deserve to be treated fairly.

So I asked Coach Matsui: "How did Japan's small teams manage in the beginning? How did they survive without money?"

He answered without hesitation: "Most B3 teams have corporate parent companies supporting them. But many teams, when they started, only paid salaries to foreign players. Everyone else was a volunteer or with minimum salary. Teams in Mie and Shinagawa relied on university student interns to keep operations running in the early days. That's how everyone made it through."

Not because there were shortcuts, but because there were no other options.

This sparked my curiosity, and I started researching cases myself.

I discovered something surprising: teams like Kagoshima, Kanazawa, Yamaguchi, and Kagawa in B3 didn't have massive budgets, perfect systems, or smooth starts. But they all had one thing in common—they first chose a home city, then built deep connections with the local community.

From Volunteer to Manager

One case particularly impressed me.

At Tokyo United Basketball Club (TUBC), there's a staff member named Kota Kanda. He started as just an event volunteer. No title, no pay, just helping out.

Later, he became an intern. And now, he's the team's Partnership Manager.

Not through his resume, but because he believed in this project from the beginning and chose to stay during the most chaotic, uncertain times.

We don't often hear these stories. But maybe this is how teams are really built—not through resources or formulas, but through belief and the process of growing together.

Where Should Our Home Be?

Could this model work in Malaysia?

We don't have a home court, players, funding, or full-time staff yet. But we have something perhaps more important: a question worth exploring, momentum that's taking shape, and some people willing to believe and begin.

Now I want to ask you:

If we really establish this team, which city or community do you think would be most suitable as our home court?

Is it where you grew up? A place you feel is overlooked but full of potential? Or somewhere you'd be willing to cheer for, to support?

More specifically: What conditions do you think an ideal home court should have? If it were your hometown, how do you think the local community would respond to such a project?

We're not rushing to decide, but I know the answer will gradually emerge.

Because a home court isn't chosen—it's built together.

I really don't know if this model will work in Malaysia.

But I think it's worth trying.

Just like what "Blackie" Chen Chien-chou said when I interviewed him a few years ago: "Never try, never know."

Yes, how will we know if we don't even try?

— Jordan