After a light morning drizzle, New York finally cleared up around noon.
That afternoon, Lin Yi and Paul were in the backyard of Lin Yi's villa, running through a shooting session. Lin Yi caught a rebound, glanced over, and said calmly,"Chris, your knee still isn't fully right, is it? Don't force anything."
For a split second, disappointnt flickered across Paul's eyes. He quickly covered it with a relaxed smile."I know. I'll stick to feeding you the ball for now."
Lin Yi nodded and didn't press the issue.
Five days had passed since the Spurs lifted the 2011–12 championship trophy. Curry had already flown back to Oakland. The kid even sent Lin Yi a text that morning, saying he couldn't wait to et his new teammates next season.
With the seventh pick in the upcoming draft, would the Warriors still take Harrison Barnes—just like Lin Yi rembered?
Yao Ming had returned to China as well. By mid-July, he would bring the entire Chinese n's national team to Houston. Before the London Olympics, the team had parted ways with Bob Donewald, Jr on good terms, and New York assistant coach Dan would step in as head coach for the Olympic run.
Lin Yi had suggested holding the training camp in New York, but Yao Ming preferred Houston. Quieter. Easier to focus.
And he wasn't wrong. Houston was a big city, sure—but compared to New York… was there anywhere on earth louder?
Yet today, even New York felt strangely subdued.
"The draft starts in half an hour," Paul said, tossing a sports drink to Lin Yi. "You really not watching?"
Ever since that brutal Eastern Conference Finals, Paul had been quietly worried about Lin Yi. Lin Yi never said much, but the way he trained nonstop—day after day—made Paul uneasy. Guilty, even.
"I couldn't finish the series with you guys," Paul had said more than once.
Ga 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals still felt like a curse. Paul's knee twisted awkwardly. The injury wasn't catastrophic, but four weeks on the shelf might as well have been a death sentence for the Knicks.
From that point on, the team went all-in. Lin Yi beca the sole engine. His sudden leap midseason caught the Heat off guard, buying the Knicks three gas before Miami fully adjusted.
Then Spoelstra pulled the trigger—full Jordan Rules. Unlike the previous year, the Knicks were not built on defence, and the rookies cracked under the pressure. More critically, the point guard rotation collapsed. McGrady couldn't last a full ga, and Lin Yi was forced to bounce between power forward and point guard, possession after possession.
Even so, Lin Yi made Miami sweat.
In Ga 6, he dropped a ridiculous 50-plus-point triple-double and dragged the series back to New York.
That night, the entire city wanted only one thing: for Lin Yi to rest.
A young fan nad Billson, wearing Lin Yi's No. 44 jersey and the new Glory Generation sneakers, cried into a TV cara,"We don't even care about the championship… just please stay healthy."
LeBron Jas finally broke through in Ga 7. After conquering New York, he cried like a kid who'd been holding it in too long. For the past year, the Knicks had haunted him.
Charles Barkley didn't hold back after the series."These Knicks aren't losers," he said. "They can walk out with their heads up. The banner won't go up in New York this year—but in my heart, Lin Yi is number one."
Across seven gas, Lin Yi averaged 42.7 points, 18.9 rebounds, and 8.8 assists in his Glory Is'.
Klay, who struggled badly in the series, quietly threw away all his VIP cards to New York nightclubs that very night. He hired multiple trainers and made a private promise to himself: next season would be different.
McGrady lingered on the court, watching his cousin Carter disappear down the tunnel. He left without a word. The next day, he filed paperwork with the Knicks, asking for one more season—even on a non-guaranteed deal.
Not everyone could last until the end.
Out west, the aging Spurs pulled off a remarkable run. After eliminating Dallas, they took down Oklahoma City in the conference finals. Then, on the biggest stage, an overlooked kid nad Jimmy Butler announced himself to the world.
Statistically, he was still outmatched by LeBron. But possession after possession, Butler delivered—tily cuts, clutch shots, fearless defense. After seven brutal gas against New York, the Heat were running on fus.
Popovich might not have been a ti traveler, but the Spurs once again found a way. In an even-numbered year, they won it all.
They slowed Dallas to a crawl with half-court execution. Kyrie Irving, the Mavs' prized pick, was thoroughly schooled by Tony Parker. Against the Thunder—whose tiline had already shifted—they survived mphis, Fisher's miracle shot, and everything else thrown their way.
Call it luck. Call it experience. Either way, the Spurs were champions.
Jimmy Butler averaged 19.5 points, 5.1 rebounds, and 4.1 assists in the Finals—and took ho Finals MVP.
Sothing LeBron and Lin Yi couldn't achieve in their rookie season and only matched by Magic Johnson.
The unwanted child had truly found his place in San Antonio. He wasn't yet the Butler Lin Yi rembered, but within the Spurs' system, his presence grew louder by the ga—quietly, inevitably amplified.
The 2011–12 season ca to a close just like Popovich had once joked when Lin Yi visited San Antonio and walked with him along the riverfront.
"We're pretty damn good," Popovich had said back then, half-smiling.
He wasn't wrong.
Lin Yi's reputation only continued to rise—especially after that brutal, headline-grabbing series against the Heat. The way he carried the Knicks through war left a deep impression across the league.
To David Stern, it was both satisfying and deeply annoying.
Fans started claiming the league had "pulled strings behind the scenes." In reality, Stern had only restored Miami's rightful ho-court advantage. Even he hadn't expected that after Paul went down—and with every Knicks point guard essentially broken—the team could still erupt with that much force under Lin Yi's command.
There was no manipulation this year.
But that Eastern Conference Finals had, without question, crowned Lin Yi all over again.
An ESPN poll showed that more than 67 percent of Arican fans already considered him the best player in the league.
And yet—what did any of that actually an?
They didn't win the championship.
That was the only thing that mattered.
Lin Yi had also learned sothing else: no matter how overwhelming his talent was, the NBA's superstars weren't going to lie down and let him steamroll them.
Reality always lagged behind imagination. Just like last year's title run. If he truly wanted a dynasty, Lin Yi wasn't there yet—not even close.
That realization hit hard.
So after the Eastern Conference Finals ended, Lin Yi threw himself into another punishing cycle of training. If he could be more dominant. If scoring could co easier. If he could impose himself without hesitation.
He knew he couldn't rely on teammates forever. Injuries, bad luck—those things were unavoidable. To rule the league, he still needed to push himself further.
"Next year," Paul said, sitting on the court and rubbing his knee, "we co back and take it all."
Lin Yi lowered himself onto the floor beside him."Yeah. We're coming back—and we're not losing it."
Paul let out a breath."This is basketball. If the road to a dynasty doesn't beat you up a little, what's the point? And honestly, a lockout championship always cos with an asterisk anyway. Maybe it's better we didn't get it."
Lin Yi laughed."You're just salty."
A title was a title, lockout or not.
Still… Paul wasn't entirely wrong. Basketball was at its best when you kept growing through resistance.
"Chris," Lin Yi said more quietly, "we're building this together. Next season, we take it back."
At the sa mont those words left his mouth, inside Lin Yi's villa—
The TV broadcast had already switched to the 2012 NBA Draft by Elizabeth and Tijana.
Boos rained down as David Stern stepped onto the stage. He waited them out, delivered his opening remarks, then finally read from the card in his hand:
"With the first overall pick in the 2012 NBA Draft, the Cleveland Cavaliers select… the player from the University of Kentucky—"
...
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