Exactly. Why think that we can trade an allstar level player and get a star player in return? How ridiculous!
Griffin: All right. Where is the Draft pick? The battle of wits has begun. It ends when you decide and we both drink, and find out who is right... and who is dead.
Cronin: But it's so simple. All I have to do is divine from what I know of you: are you the sort of man who would put the pock into his own goblet or his enemy's? Now, a clever man would put the pick into his own goblet, because he would know that only a great fool would reach for what he was given. I am not a great fool, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But you must have known I was not a great fool, you would have counted on it, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Griffin: You've made your decision then?
Cronin: Not remotely. Because pick contingencies come from out of your dark closet, as everyone knows, and your closet is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are used to having people not trust them, as you are not trusted by me, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you.
Griffin: Truly, you have a dizzying intellect.
Cronin: Wait till I get going! Now, where was I?
Griffin: Australia.
Cronin: Yes, Australia. And you must have suspected I would have known the contingencies protections, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.
Griffin: You're just stalling now.
Cronin: You'd like to think that, wouldn't you? You've beaten my Nurkic, which means you're exceptionally strong, so you could've put the poison in your own goblet, trusting on your strength to save you, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of you. But, you've also bested my Fernandez in the past, which means you must have studied, and in studying you must have learned that man is mortal, so you would have put the poison as far from yourself as possible, so I can clearly not choose the wine in front of me.