In September of 2000, three guys from a tiny DVD-rental startup called Netflix flew to Dallas on a chartered jet they couldn't afford to make a pitch to the most powerful video rental chain on Earth. Reed Hastings asked Blockbuster CEO John Antioco for fifty million dollars. Antioco's mouth twitched at the corner. His general counsel told the room the dot-com hysteria was overblown. The Netflix guys flew home crestfallen. Today Netflix is worth four hundred billion dollars, and the only Blockbuster left in America is a tourist attraction in Bend, Oregon.

He almost said yes.

This week we hit Control Z on the deal that would have killed Netflix in the crib, and follow what happens when one man writes the check.

In April of 1979, the Chicago Bulls had a coin flip against the Los Angeles Lakers for the first pick in the NBA Draft. The Bulls' marketing department had run a fan vote on what to call. Heads won. Bulls GM Rod Thorn, who'd called tails his entire life, looked down at the marketing handout and said heads. The coin came up tails. The Lakers got Magic Johnson. The NBA you know was built on what came next.

He almost called tails.

This week we hit Control Z on the coin flip that built the modern NBA, and follow what happens when one man trusts his gut. Showtime, the Bulls dynasty, Phil Jackson, all of it changes.

In December of 1936, King Edward VIII signed a piece of paper that changed a thousand years of British monarchy. He gave up the throne to marry Wallis Simpson, an American divorcée his government refused to accept as queen. His brother Bertie became George VI. Bertie's daughter became Queen Elizabeth II. The House of Windsor you know exists because of what Edward signed that day.

He almost didn't sign.

This week we hit Control Z on one of the closest-run constitutional crises in British history, and follow what happens when a king who wants something more than the crown decides to keep both. The ripples reach further than you'd think.