With just over six minutes left in the first quarter, D'Antoni finally pulled Lin Yi off the floor for a breather.
Across the court, Cavs coach Mike Brown let out a long sigh of relief and quickly subbed out his already winded big man.
O'Neal looked like he just went twelve rounds in the ring—completely gassed. Honestly, if boxing were allowed, the Big Diesel would've thrown a few punches Lin Yi's way by now. The kid was really bullying the elderly out there.
The scoreboard read 11–19. Yup, the Knicks were in the lead, unexpectedly.
Mike Brown muttered to himself, "This isn't sustainable... we can't keep this up."
His brain was spinning now. Even LeBron was irritated during the last tiout.
...
anwhile, over in the dia row, Wu Xiaolei was practically laughing out loud. Lin Yi had been way too much fun to watch tonight. Who would've thought O'Neal could be made to look this helpless?
"Sis Xiaolei, what's going on with the Cavs?" asked Qi Jun, brows furrowed. "Aren't they supposed to be way better than the Knicks?"
"It's not that they can't win..." Wu Xiaolei replied, thinking aloud. "They might need to give up so size to keep up with the Knicks' pace."
And that's exactly what happened. First quarter ended with the Cavs down 23–30. As the second quarter kicked off, Mike Brown started making adjustnts.
Knicks rolled out their second unit: Lin Yi (still on the floor), Harrington, Gallinari, Tony Douglas, and Chris Duhon.
Cavs countered with: JJ Hickson, LeBron, Jamario Moon, Daniel Gibson, and Delonte West.
"They've gone smaller to try and keep up with Lin Yi," Wu Xiaolei noted.
Qi Jun nodded along... but sothing didn't feel right.
Lin Yi was locked in. He wasn't about to waste this hot streak.
JJ Hickson, listed at 6'9", didn't matter in Lin Yi's eyes.
Perfect. Ti to go simple: brute force, straight-up, no-frills basketball.
LeBron got a quick bucket to open the quarter—25 to 30.
Then Lin Yi walked it up, didn't even blink, and just rose in JJ Hickson's face.
JJ: "???"
Swish.
Lin Yi now had 11 points.
He nodded at Hickson. "Gotta jump higher if you want the ball."
I'm taller. I'm feeling it. I'm the Knicks' No.1 pick. This is my court. Why wouldn't I shoot?
LeBron was darting everywhere on defense, but Lin Yi just kept rising and firing.
Before the second tiout of the quarter, Lin Yi had already knocked down six mid-range jumpers, hit three of them, plus a three-ball.
18 points and counting.
LeBron was keeping the Cavs alive offensively, but Mike Brown had a serious problem—Cleveland's biggest strength wasn't showing up at all.
They prided themselves on defense. The Knicks? They weren't even trying to fight them in the paint.
Lin Yi occasionally kicked out passes for open looks, too, just to twist the knife.
"Lin Yi is looking like the Cavs' kryptonite," Wu Xiaolei sighed.
Qi Jun scratched his head. "What if LeBron just guards Lin Yi himself?"
"...Yeah," Wu Xiaolei ponderingly said. "That might be the only option left."
At 4:37 in the second quarter, it finally happened—LeBron stepped up to guard Lin Yi one-on-one for the first ti all night.
The Garden erupted.
Arican fans love this stuff—Rising star vs. Superstar, man to man, pride on the line.
Physically, LeBron could hang. He had the strength, the hops, and the footspeed.
On paper, the smart move would've been for Lin Yi to pass the ball and avoid the matchup.
But Lin Yi waved his teammates off.
"Get outta the way."
"Oh boy, here we go!" Zhang Lixin's voice jumped an octave. "One-on-one! Lin Yi vs. LeBron!"
Yu Jia scrambled to provide so analysis before Zhang said sothing outrageous.
The Knicks' players cleared out. It was like they knew this showdown was coming.
See, this wasn't just about scoring. If the Knicks wanted to win tonight, they had to drain LeBron's energy—force him to carry the offense and defend Lin Yi.
That's the real win condition.
LeBron had refused to sit after the first quarter. He knew they were in trouble early.
So now, Lin Yi wasn't just shooting because he was hot—it was psychological warfare.
Because even Superman gets tired.
Jas has always been efficient—better shooting percentages than Kobe, better decision-making. But he had fewer of those wild, high-scoring outbursts like Kobe. Why?
Because Kobe's ga conserved energy. Jas' style—drive after drive, body contact, explosion—it drains him.
Lin Yi knew it. That's why the Knicks made him run, made him work.
Tonight's plan? Run the shark off the court. Tire out the king.
Now, Lin Yi drove hard.
LeBron was right there.
Lin Yi didn't care. He threw himself into the lane, tossed up a wild shot, and let out a loud shout.
The ball missed.
But the whistle blew.
LeBron ripped out his mouth guard and stared at the ref, wide-eyed.
"Seriously? Ref, that's a flop!"
Honestly, he was right—it probably was.
But that wasn't the point.
This was Madison Square Garden. And Lin Yi? He was Stern's shiny new toy.
The ref had a tough angle. Lin's dramatic flail made it look worse than it was.
That's just smart basketball.
Lin Yi made both free throws. Knicks up 49–57.
...
By halfti, they were up 54–65.
The sa Knicks who'd been a bottom-feeder last year.
Was the world ending?
LeBron fans were in shambles:
"LeBron dropped 28 in the first half—what more do you want!?"
"His teammates are trash!"
"Mo Williams is invisible!"
"O'Neal's retired, right? Right!?"
"Free Bron! Get him help! The man's carrying the roster!"
But here's the thing—the Cavs were supposed to be the best defense in the league.
What was happening?
They looked at Lin Yi.
24 points. Not as many as Jas, but way easier buckets. And way more relaxed.
Basketball isn't a one-man ga. Lin Yi wasn't dominating LeBron one-on-one—he didn't have to.
The Knicks' ball movent flowed through him. The offense humd.
The Knicks' bench, supposedly the weakest in the league, was outscoring Cleveland.
Ga's not over though, and anything can happen…
…until Gallinari hit his fifth three.
"HOLY—Lin Yi with the assist again!"
Then Harrington splashed one.
Then Hughes.
Then an alley-oop from Lin.
Then Gallinari hit his sixth.
And just like that, Lin Yi got to rest the entire fourth quarter, chatting on the bench with teammates.
The cara zood in on LeBron and the Cavs.
Tired faces. Languid movent.
They had the stuffing beaten out of them.
Score?
73–101 heading into the fourth.
The Knicks' shooters weren't even fully synced yet. But Lin Yi could feel it—they were coming together.
Mike Brown had tried everything. He thought if they locked up Lin Yi, the Knicks would crumble.
Although Lin Yi didn't know the Cavs like Mike Brown ever did, he knew one thing: speed was their Achilles heel.
As LeBron slowed down in the third, the Knicks sped up.
That was the tipping point.
Lin Yi didn't even need to score in the second half—he had already done his job.
Thanks to the red-hot supporting cast, they crushed Cleveland 96–128.
LeBron stord off without shaking hands.
O'Neal chatted with Lin Yi briefly, but the big fella was clearly in a foul mood.
Mike Brown just spread his hands and said nothing.
...
In his office, NBA commissioner David Stern sat in silence.
This ga wasn't just a spectacle—it was a statent.
Maybe Lin was more than a cash cow.
The Knicks played fast, flashy, fun basketball—the kind that drew eyeballs.
And Stern? He was starting to wonder if this kid might be the one.
But it was too early for now.
He will observe and wait.
After all… Lin Yi wasn't just good.
He was looking box office good.
....
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