Brooks, the young Thunder coach that many fans already suspected would one day be considered their biggest liability, signaled to Durant barely a few minutes into the first quarter.
The Thunder's ga plan for Lin Yi was straightforward: if Ibaka couldn't hold his own against him in single coverage, then Durant would step in.
Durant's assignnt was to use his length and quicker footwork to disrupt Lin Yi's touches and keep him uncomfortable. On top of that, having faced the Knicks in the first round, the Thunder had decided on a familiar gamble—leave Tony Allen wide open, which allowed Sefolosha to slide over and trap Lin whenever needed.
It was basically a recycled sche from the Knicks' first eting with Oklahoma City. Brooks believed it was clever enough to contain Lin Yi.
And, at first glance, he seed right. Lin wasn't getting into rhythm. Brooks, grinning on the sideline, looked as if he had finally solved the puzzle.
But he had forgotten one critical detail.
The Knicks had depth.
When Sefolosha stripped Lin on a baseline drive and Brooks was still savoring his little triumph, D'Antoni made a quick adjustnt—Tony Allen out, Shane Battier in.
Brooks froze.
The Knicks' ssage was clear: "You think we only have one defensive stopper? We've got a whole rotation of them."
Sure, Battier couldn't guard Durant as effectively one-on-one, but that wasn't the point. The Knicks could just flip the script: leave Sefolosha free, trap Durant instead. They didn't need to stick to Tony Allen.
Brooks assud the Knicks' only chance of slowing Durant was Allen. He hadn't realized they didn't need to shut Durant down at all to win this series.
On the floor, Sefolosha, still without clear guidance from Brooks, committed to doubling Lin again. Lin barely hesitated. A slick, no-look pass zipped into Battier's hands on the periter.
Bang on the ring.
Swish.
Three points.
10–5. Tiout, Thunder. Brooks was rattled.
Kenny Smith cut in on comntary:
"The Thunder misjudged this badly. The Knicks are absolutely deadly from deep this season. You can't recklessly trap Lin when his teammates are this accurate. That's why he rarely sees these hard doubles—because you pay for it imdiately."
It felt like the Thunder had pulled out their best-prepared trick card, only to watch it get shredded in seconds. Like a gar lining up a perfect ambush, only to get knocked out by an unexpected counter.
On the Knicks' bench, Lin Yi chuckled, "The Thunder are reacting way too slowly. The Heat would've adjusted already."
That was partly thanks to how often the Knicks had faced Miami. The Thunder just didn't have that sa sharpness in real ti.
D'Antoni, ever the teacher, turned to Atkinson with a question.
"Kenny, say you're Brooks. How would you play it?"
Kenny thought for a mont.
"I'd put Harden out there earlier. More scoring options. With our shooters, you can't just hope Lin gets cold. Jas can balance it. If their defense holds up, they should just try to trade buckets with us. Best chance is to win with firepower."
D'Antoni nodded, giving him a small pat on the shoulder. Ken was learning.
Still curious, D'Antoni then posed the sa question to Lin Yi.
"Alright, Lin, what would you do?"
Lin didn't hesitate:
"I'd bench Perkins and slide Kevin to the four. Make it a direct matchup with . Run more pick-and-rolls for Durant to inflate his numbers. Play Russ and Jas together, shift the offensive hub, and really lean into transition. Even use Maynor to push the tempo. If Jeff Green were still here, they could even run Durant at the five and just play all-out pace. That's probably their only shot to actually beat us in a scoring duel."
D'Antoni arched an eyebrow. "But Durant can't handle the interior battle, can he?"
Lin shrugged. "Not really. But that's not the point. At least then, they'd match our tempo. Otherwise, they're just walking into our trap."
The logic was sound. Instead of grinding against New York's suffocating defense, the Thunder's real hope was to flip the ga into chaos, where their raw athleticism could shine.
Because if the ga slowed into a possession-by-possession grind, the Knicks were simply too disciplined, too sharp, and too deep.
Future teams like the Warriors would eventually embrace that sa rhythm-heavy philosophy—spacing the floor, ramping up the pace, shooting their way into cobacks.
And as for Ibaka and Perkins? They weren't scaring anyone into thinking the Knicks couldn't score.
So the Thunder's best chance wasn't in restraint. It was in unleashing everything, even if it ant risking collapse.
Better to gamble it all than to fade quietly.
..
Brooks ca out of the tiout looking as if he'd been staring at a wall of numbers he couldn't make sense of. He didn't have an answer, so he did the only thing he could in that mont: walked over to his two stars, patted Durant and Westbrook on the shoulders, and muttered with forced conviction,
"Co on, guys. Let's push through."
It wasn't a strategy so much as hope.
On the bench, Harden leaned back, stroking his beard. It felt like Lin and Curry were pulling ahead of him.
No, no… maybe I'm just imagining it, Harden told himself. Didn't I use to get the better of Lin and Curry back in college?
But the doubt lingered. Harden was never soone you could accuse of being lazy. He had put in the hours, the sweat, the late nights in the gym. That drive was part of what would one day turn him into an MVP, a scorer who would rattle off nearly 2,000 points season after season. People sotis confused his smoothness with softness, but Harden was anything but soft. He just liked to bait fouls.
Back on the floor, Durant's hot hand kept the Thunder afloat in the first quarter. Without him, Oklahoma City might've been buried early. The problem, though, was structural. The Thunder loved their isolation plays — perhaps too much. Durant could hit shots over anyone, and Westbrook could bulldoze his way to the rim, but beyond that? There wasn't enough variety. Not enough reliable shooting. Harden's brilliance was still more spark than furnace, and the rest of the roster couldn't stretch the floor.
By contrast, the Knicks weren't about to let the ga get dragged into late-stage heroics. They knew better than to gamble everything on whether a young Durant or Westbrook could steal it in the final minutes. By the end of the opening period, New York had built an eight-point cushion, leading 33–25.
…
Second quarter.
D'Antoni rolled out a new unit: Shaquille O'Neal anchoring the paint, Wilson Chandler, Lance Stephenson, Lou Williams, and the veteran Marbury orchestrating.
The Thunder countered with Durant and Harden alongside their bench pieces, giving Westbrook a breather. But even with KD on the floor, the Knicks held firm.
O'Neal was used sparingly these days, yet in this system, he didn't need to sprint up and down every possession. His role resembled what Andrew Bogut would later provide for the Warriors — a big body to set hard screens, protect the paint, and steady the halfcourt sets. For the few minutes he played, Shaq's limited mobility wasn't much of an issue.
And then ca Lou Williams' heat check.
Lou caught fire in a way that only Lou could. Twice, he launched heavily contested jumpers after being smothered; twice, the ball splashed through anyway. Then a third ti, fading away with Durant's hand in his face. Nothing but net.
By season averages, Lou was posting a modest 12.9 points per ga, but this year his efficiency had spiked. Nearly 48% from the field — unheard of for him — and a steady 37.6% from deep, despite his tendency to let fly from questionable spots.
The secret? The Knicks had figured out how to manage him. When Lou was feeling it, they let him cook. When he wasn't, they reined him in without hesitation. No wasted possessions. And with Marbury — a version reborn after his soul search, as the New York dia jokingly called it — steering the offense, the pecking order was clear. Marbury wasn't going to feed Lou just because he waved for the ball. The system ca first.
Stephenson, anwhile, was settling into his rookie year better than expected. He wasn't the chaotic, erratic guard he'd once been for Indiana. Here, he had just enough leash to use his dribble and take pressure off the primary ball-handlers, without overextending.
For the Thunder, though, it was déjà vu. Brooks leaned heavily on Durant and Westbrook in tight monts, a habit that would define his tenure. Every possession seed to lean on one of them, creating magic out of nothing. Harden could help, sure, but he was still in developnt.
Later, when Durant joined the Warriors, he'd admit he'd never played basketball so effortlessly in his life. That wasn't just him flattering his new team after crossing enemy lines. It was the truth. In Oklahoma City, every night was a grind, every basket felt like a war.
The roster was simply too shallow, the spacing too cramped. GM Sam Presti was brilliant, but he wasn't a reincarnator like Lin Yi — he couldn't anticipate every wrinkle in the ga's evolution. The most update n0vels are published on NoveI(F)ire
Lin Yi, watching from the bench, found himself almost eager for Oklahoma City to make it past Dallas. A final eting with the Thunder sounded perfect.
Because the Knicks' iron-willed, suffocating defense thrived against exactly this kind of young, talented but raw team.
To Lin Yi, the Thunder weren't a nightmare matchup. They were a gift.
...
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