NBA: Journey To Become Unplayable. Chapter 435 435: A Weekend to Breathe

On the 22nd, the Mavericks—who'd decided to play it safe and rest their stars—got cooked by the Knicks at ho.

Before the ga, Knicks owner Jas Dolan had even jokingly promised that if the team scored over a hundred points and won, every fan in attendance would get a free bowl of braised beef noodles.

Mark Cuban, the Mavericks' owner, heard that and was completely lost.

"Braised beef noodles? What does that even an?" he asked one of his staff.

After soone explained the joke to him—that it was a play on the Mandarin na for the Mavericks—Cuban imdiately vowed to get the team's Chinese na changed.

In his view, Little Cow sounded way too weak. It didn't match the swagger of the English word Mavericks.

Lin Yi, overhearing the story later, almost laughed out loud. So words were truly not ant to be translated in languages.

In the end, the ga was as lopsided as the score suggested—118 to 97. The Mavericks didn't even bother pretending to fight back. The Knicks wrapped it up by the third quarter. By the fourth, both sides were basically just running out the clock.

David Stern, watching from his office, was fuming. This was supposed to be one of the marquee matchups before All-Star Weekend—a ratings magnet. And the Mavericks… decided to rest everyone?

That was a slap in the league's face.

The NBA had long been sensitive about players sitting out marquee gas. Fans paid premium prices to see the stars—so when they didn't play, the complaints rolled in fast.

A few hours later, the punishnt ca down: $250,000 fine for the Mavericks. Stern made an example out of them—a ssage to every other team: "Rest your ass and get fined, or get up and play."

But Cuban didn't flinch. He understood how the ga worked. He wasn't short on cash, and Coach Rick Carlisle knew exactly what he was doing. The veterans needed rest; without it, they'd fall apart before the playoffs even started.

Popovich and the Spurs had been fined plenty of tis for the sa thing, but everyone knew his thods worked. Thanks to his rotation strategy, Duncan and Ginobili stayed sharp for years longer than expected.

That approach—spreading out minutes, resting stars strategically—would soon beco the norm. Sure, old-school legends would grumble that the modern NBA was getting soft, but those sa guys had often paid the price with blown knees and careers that ended too soon.

There were plenty of durable n in NBA history—but far more players who'd burned out early.

So, rotations it was. That was the future.

After dismantling Dallas, the Knicks flew to Miami for a back-to-back ga on the 23rd—and this ti, they fell 97–109 to the Heat. It was their first ti failing to break 100 points all season.

With the shortened schedule, cramming 66 gas into just four months, Lin Yi was getting sick of back-to-backs.

This wasn't a video ga. Fatigue, injuries, cramped flights, bad sleep—everything piled up. No matter how good your form was, reality always found a way to bite back.

The team's red-hot montum had cooled off. The rookies were hitting their rookie wall, and the veterans just wanted to survive until the playoffs. For the Knicks—focused on developnt this season—a single loss didn't matter much.

Unfortunately, LeBron didn't see it that way.

When the Heat won at ho, he was fired up—thinking he'd closed the gap. Only if he knew that Lin and D'Antoni were already planning to ease off before the break.

Even after the loss, the Knicks were still six wins ahead of Miami.

Sotis, winning felt strangely hollow.

And just like that, the first half of the 2011–12 season was over. Lin Yi sat comfortably atop the MVP rankings, with LeBron, Durant, Wade, and Paul right behind.

LeBron's fans weren't happy. They argued that outside of that legendary 86-point ga, Lin had been mid in the clutch. They even threw ESPN's advanced stats into the mix, showing that LeBron's fourth-quarter scoring outshone Lin's.

Lin's fans, of course, clapped back imdiately.

"What can we say? Our guy can't play in the fourth quarter if the ga's already over!"

That… actually made sense. Hard to argue with that one.

...

On the 24th, Lin led his teammates to Orlando for the All-Star Weekend.

Klay, Markieff Morris, and Motiejunas were all playing in the Rookie Challenge, and the three of them were buzzing with nervous energy on the flight. Klay tried to act calm, but his constant questions gave him away. They huddled around Lin as if he were their All-Star tour guide.

This year's Rookie Challenge had a twist—20 players from the first and second years split into Team Shaq and Team Chuck, drafted by none other than Shaquille O'Neal and Charles Barkley themselves.

Shaq had even texted Lin earlier, asking, "Got any tips to win this thing?"

Lin almost laughed when he rembered how this ga went in his past life. Shaq had completely botched his draft—passing on John Wall and Kyrie Irving just to pick Jeremy Lin first.

Still, Lin decided to help the big guy out.

After all, Shaq had been reluctantly hyping him up on TNT all season. Lin didn't usually care much about outside opinions, but getting daily praise from one of the all-ti greats?

Yeah, that felt pretty damn good.

"Shaq, listen—pick John first, then Klay, and after that…" Lin Yi leaned back in his seat, phone in hand, as the team plane touched down in Orlando.

On the other end of the line, O'Neal sounded puzzled. "Wait, shouldn't I grab Blake first?"

Lin Yi almost laughed. "Blake's starting in the All-Star Ga, man. You really think he's going to go all out in the Rookie Challenge? He's just gonna jog around and smile for the caras."

O'Neal grunted. "But if I follow your plan, I won't have any bigs! What kind of team has no interior presence?"

"Who needs bigs in a Rookie Challenge?" Lin replied. "Nobody's defending anyway. Just let John run wild on the break—he's faster than anyone there. Klay and the shooters can rain threes all day. Kelly and Jeremy are solid, but not playmakers. Let Wall push the tempo, keep spacing the floor, and you'll be fine."

O'Neal was quiet for a mont, then chuckled. "You know what? I like that. You sound like you've been taking coaching notes."

Lin grinned. "Just helping you get that W, big man."

For Shaq, this wasn't just a casual ga—it was personal. Ever since Barkley had been teasing him on Inside the NBA, he'd been waiting for a chance to fire back. This Rookie Challenge was his revenge match.

"The Big Aristotle is about to educate Chuck on basketball IQ," Shaq declared proudly.

Lin could almost hear him puffing his chest through the phone.

When the call ended, Lin stretched and smiled.

"Finally," he muttered, "I can actually enjoy an All-Star Weekend for once."

No dunk contest. No three-point shootout. No skills challenge. This year, he was there just to relax—maybe grab so popcorn and enjoy the show from the sidelines.

Chris Paul, on the other hand, was in high spirits. It was his first ti starting for the Eastern Conference All-Stars, and he looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

"Hey Lin," Paul said after they landed, "you're really not going to pad your stats this ti?"

Lin blinked. "What?"

He stared at Paul, speechless. Since when did I beco the guy who pads stats?

But then he thought about it—and frowned.

Wait a second... this year's Eastern Conference All-Star lineup… wasn't he the focal point of the offense?

So that led to a new, dangerous thought.

Three straight All-Star MVPs... should I go for it?

...

Please do leave a review and powerstones, helps with the book's exposure.

Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to advanced chapters?

Visit the link:

[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30

Change @ to a