People always say that once is a coincidence, but what about twice—or even three tis?
Right in the middle of teams pushing hard in the second half of the season, Lin Yi, seemingly out of nowhere, pulled off the third quadruple-double of his career.
In the NBA, even a single triple-double is enough to make a player legendary—but Lin Yi had already raised the bar. After achieving his second quadruple-double last season, he'd beco the president of the Quadruple-Double Club. Now, he'd just rewritten the league's record books again.
New York fans are famously demanding, but Lin Yi had a rare kind of magic. Ever since he joined the Knicks, fans had developed this instinctive reflex: whenever Lin Yi does sothing incredible, the crowd erupts in praise.
On TNT, Charles Barkley couldn't help himself. "Stop arguing—this season's MVP has to be Lin! Rember what Shaq said? He's the most well-rounded, dominant center in the league. So, let's ask Shaq—Shaq, have you ever had a quadruple-double in your career?" Barkley's lips curled into that trademark smirk as he leaned toward the big man.
O'Neal said nothing.
Barkley leaned in, undeterred. "Okay, Shaq, you've been one of the league's top scorers—ever put up 81 or 86 in a ga?"
O'Neal: "…"
Barkley shook his head mockingly. "The great Shaq O'Neal…"
"Enough!" Shaq finally snapped, a mix of amusent and irritation in his voice. "Charles, don't you think I deserve so respect?"
"Charles, co on—you haven't done half the things you're talking about either." Shaq shrugged casually.
Shaq continued, "I'm not denying Lin's achievents. He's already surpassed in so ways, and he's just getting started."
Charles shot O'Neal a victorious glance after his admittance.
Kenny Smith, sitting nearby, couldn't hide his smile. "Guys, let's be honest. Lin Yi proved tonight just how complete his ga is. Even if he hadn't had that 86-point ga or the single-quarter triple-double, just averaging a triple-double this season? MVP all the way. Especially with the Knicks holding the best record in the league right now."
O'Neal finally spoke, breathless but earnest. "Averaging a triple-double is no joke. Back in Oscar Robertson's era, the league was a whole different ballga."
Shaq wasn't exactly siding with Lin Yi—his banter with Barkley was more about showmanship—but he'd noticed Barkley had been holding a grudge ever since Team Shaq steamrolled him in the All-Star ga. Any chance to jab, Barkley would take it. Last week, during a Lakers broadcast, Barkley even mocked him for being traded by Kobe. Shaq had handled it deftly: "Yeah, Kobe sent to Miami—and it got a championship ring."
Oof.
…
Back at Madison Square Garden, Lin Yi, who had sat out the entire fourth quarter, was now a magnet for photographers. Every ti the cara focused on him, the crowd roared: "MVP! MVP!"
DeRozan, on the Raptors' bench, was devastated. Losing was one thing, but being the one who gave Lin Yi four of the blocks he needed for a quadruple-double? That was humiliation on a whole new level. That last block—sealing Lin Yi's historic night—was going to haunt him on YouTube for months.
They say fa is scary, and DeRozan had no desire for this kind of fa.
anwhile, the 2009 draft class group chat lit up. Harden was first: "DeMar, you might as well change your na to The Block Giver."
Flynn, now dominating in the CBA, chid in: "I woke up to see DeRozan turned into a 'Jianbing Guozi.' You've gotta try it when you co to China—magical stuff."
Curry laughed: "DeMar, does Lin have your dirt or sothing? I can't watch you hand out blocks like that!"
Griffin, having just dropped off his dog for neutering, added: "DeMar, next ti, save a few blocks for … I swear, my defense is worse than a guard's nowadays."
DeRozan just sat there, silent.
The new guy, before even fully ascending to his throne, understood the sa kind of despair Bosh had felt. If only Toronto had one more ga against the Heat, Bosh would have patted him on the head and said, "Being the main man isn't easy."
Ever since the Vince Carter era, it certainly felt like star players in Toronto were under so kind of curse.
...
On the sa night Lin Yi dropped another quadruple-double, a very different mood settled over Miami.
At Wade's place, he leaned back on the couch and said quietly, "LeBron, don't get too hung up on the MVP talk. We've got no room to slip this season."
Jas' face — always looking a little beaten down these days — tightened with a mix of frustration and resignation. "I know, Dwyane. Forget the individual stuff. This year, we have to prove we can actually finish the job."
Wade gave his shoulder a firm pat. He had his own doubts, too. Ever since their collapse last season, he'd been asking himself whether convincing Jas to co had been the right move. Wade could feel it: LeBron wasn't playing freely anymore. He was playing with a weight on his chest.
That pressure wouldn't break a player like Jas… but it might wear him down to the point where even the King looked mortal.
Jas had already decided to reshuffle his entire managent team. He still refused to admit leaving Cleveland was a mistake, but every ti he returned there, sothing uneasy always crept in — a mix of guilt, nostalgia, and the feeling that a part of him had stayed behind.
anwhile, in Oklahoma City, Durant had quietly gone off the grid.
The Thunder were sitting atop the Western Conference, yet as the headlines exploded with praise for Lin Yi, Durant scrolled through the news only to find the rare complints about him ca from OKC's own local reporters.
And Westbrook? He'd recently turned into a full-ti Lin Yi fanboy, which only made things worse.
"Kevin, averaging a triple-double is crazy cool, right?"
"Kevin, I bet we could run the Knicks' system too. Maybe your playmaking isn't… uh… anyway, I can iso like Chris Paul."
"Kevin, try this outfit — trust , you'll steal the spotlight again…"
Durant stared at the photo Westbrook sent — a sh top straight out of a fashion experint gone rogue — and simply closed the chat. So things didn't need a response.
He didn't want to end up looking like Magic Johnson's daughter.
If this were a nightmare, Durant wished soone would shake him awake. Even the scoring title was slipping. Anthony, over in Cleveland and having fully embraced the "I'm shooting every damn ti" lifestyle, was averaging more than 28 attempts a night and had just dropped five straight 40-point gas.
lo had officially passed him on the scoring leaderboard.
Durant was miserable. He wanted to stat-pad too, but how could he? The Cavaliers were racing toward the No. 1 pick; the Thunder were fighting to stay on top of the West.
"Fine. As long as I win the championship, everything changes," Durant told himself.
Across the league, the night Lin Yi recorded the third quadruple-double of his career felt like a small earthquake. Miami was tense, Oklahoma City was frustrated, Cleveland was firing every shot into the sky…
And Lin Yi?
He had already moved on, diving headfirst into whatever his next impossible task would be.
...
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