Madison Square Garden was electric. Courtside, Elizabeth Olsen—dressed in a crisp white Knicks jersey made just for her—wiped at her eyes.
Lin Yi really did work like nobody else. He had the talent, sure, but it was the humility that got her. Even with the spotlight squarely on him, he never made it just about himself.
She wanted nothing more than to rush over and embrace and shower him with …
What am I thinking? She blushed from her thoughts.
..
Center court, the players strode toward the opening tip after the Garden's over-the-top pregame ceremony.
LeBron James felt an unexpected twinge of regret but shook it off.
Some of that, he knew, was in his own camp. Looking back, people would probably say he rushed the whole Decision thing. Cleveland had its own kind of leverage. One ring there—just one—would have meant as much as a dynasty anywhere else. The city had never had that moment.
Fans love a tragic hero, in the States, in China, or any part of the world. Imagine the story: keep grinding in Cleveland, maybe fall short a few times, then finally break through.
The Cavs' front office would've bent over backwards to build around him, and the league would have treated him like royalty. Then, late in his career, he could move to a bigger market for family reasons, and Cleveland would have thanked him for everything, just like Minnesota did for Garnett.
The problem was that LeBron didn't want to be just a legend, but the best. He was chasing after the No.23.
Here in 2011, James was the NBA's top villain, and tonight the Knicks' unity only sharpened that edge.
Pat Riley hadn't seen this coming. The Knicks had orchestrated a show so grand that any neutral fan watching would find it hard not to pull for New York. From staffers to celebrities, everyone who'd ever suffered a playoff heartbreak in this arena seemed to be back to cheer the team on.
.
On the Knicks bench, Stephon Marbury suddenly produced a bundle of chopsticks from somewhere.
Channeling his inner coach, He held one up. "One chopstick snaps with barely a twist," he said, breaking it cleanly for effect. "But a bunch together? No chance."
Shaquille O'Neal raised an eyebrow, grabbed the whole bundle, and—crack—split them like twigs.
Marbury stared, deadpan. "…Thanks for proving my point, Shaq."
.
The Heat opened with their usual star-studded five:
Chris Bosh
LeBron James
Mike Miller
Dwyane Wade
Mario Chalmers.
The Knicks countered with their own colorful lineup—nicknames and all:
Tyson Chandler
Lin Yi
Danilo Gallinari
Danny Green
Chauncey Billups
Green had been on a steady climb all postseason, and his floor spacing made life easier for Lin Yi. When Green was out there, Lin's scoring efficiency spiked.
Tip-off was hardly a contest. Lin rose and easily out-jumped Bosh.
Man, that neck, Lin thought. Bosh could give a cobra lessons.
He went right at the Miami big man on the opening possession, powering into a hard post-up that ended with a smooth hook. It looked like a highlight move, but Lin knew it was just footwork and leverage—skills he'd refined all season. Strength was one thing; mastering it was another.
Bucket.
Down at the other end, Bosh tried to answer and felt Lin's chest press against him like a wall. Just as he gathered to shoot, referee Joey Crawford's whistle cut through the Garden.
Offensive foul.
It's the kind of call that could go either way in a playoff scrum, but Bosh had used his hands, and tonight the whistle didn't favor him.
The Knicks fed Lin again on the next trip. Another low-post set, another bruising back-down. Bosh slid, Lin spun, and kissed a soft bank off the glass. Second two points for New York.
"Lin Yi sets the tone early," said CCTV's Yu Jia on the broadcast. "In the playoffs, his post-game is the Knicks' main weapon."
Zhang chuckled. "Bosh can't hold him. Let's see if Miami sends LeBron to help like last time."
The Heat went right to James on their second possession. Gallinari, long and sturdy, stalled him. LeBron tried a quick power move, then switched to a step-back jumper.
Clang.
Front rim.
Lin vacuumed up the rebound and took off in transition.
Mario Chalmers, remembering Pat Riley's pregame instructions—don't give Lin anything easy—stepped in and wrapped him up midair.
The whistle shrieked. Crawford immediately signaled a flagrant-1.
The Garden erupted.
Commissioner David Stern, watching from a suite, frowned. Chicago fans had already accused Miami of crossing the line in the previous round. Playoff basketball was physical, sure, but Stern loathed anything that reeked of intent to injure.
Lin dusted himself off, smiling as he walked to the line. Tyson Chandler moved in to confront Chalmers, but Lin gently pulled him back.
Elizabeth Olsen clasped her hands at courtside, heart racing.
Even Knicks legends on the sideline were fired up. Charles Oakley, never one to hand out compliments, nodded in approval.
The replay ran again and again on the broadcast. Social media lit up.
You've got your Big Three and still need to mug the guy?
James and Wade exchanged frustrated looks. They hadn't told Chalmers to do that, but the crowd wasn't about to split hairs.
On the Miami bench, Riley shot off a quick text to Erik Spoelstra: Tell the guys—control yourselves. We don't need a riot.
Lin sank both free throws, unfazed. Pain was temporary. The message, though, was permanent: the Knicks weren't backing down.
After Chalmers' early flagrant, every possession felt like it might spark another confrontation.
Each time tempers started to flare, Lin Yi stepped between the two teams, his calm presence cooling things down before words or elbows could fly. Even the Heat players knew they'd crossed a line with that first takedown.
Referee Joey Crawford watched Lin with a quiet nod of approval.
Stern's choice of poster boy, it seemed, was proving reliable.
During a timeout, Erik Spoelstra read a terse text from Pat Riley and immediately reminded his players to keep their composure. Heads nodded all around—until assistant coach Ron Scolari added, "Turn the defense up a notch."
The players looked at each other.
Control your fouls but crank up the pressure?
Easier said than done.
Lin, meanwhile, wanted every hard foul aimed at him alone. His teammates didn't have his size or his knack for staying in one piece. The Knicks weren't just protecting tonight's lead; they were protecting their run at the Finals. And in the court of public opinion, New York already held the high ground.
Even Charles Oakley, never shy about confrontation, gave Lin a thumbs-up.
Inside, Lin couldn't help a wry thought: The boys really are enthusiastic.
Once New York steadied itself, the game tilted decisively their way. Stern exhaled in his suite. If he'd worried about a brawl, Lin's self-control had just saved the league from a nightmare.
Down on the court, even LeBron took notice.
Between possessions, he slapped his own cheeks and muttered, "Stay calm. Stay calm."
Riley had spent the week stoking Miami's dislike for the Knicks, but it's hard to hate someone who refuses to take the bait. Even Chalmers, guilty of the flagrant, now felt a pang of regret.
By the end of the first quarter, the Knicks led 18–24. It wasn't a blowout, but they'd kept both James and Wade from finding a rhythm, and that was half the battle.
Mike D'Antoni opened the second with a rugged group—O'Neal, Lin, Battier, Stephenson, and a newly cleared Shaun Livingston. The defense stayed tight, and when Miami resorted to a hack-a-Shaq strategy, O'Neal calmly sank both free throws, flashing a grin toward the bench.
"Not tonight," he said, pumping a fist.
With Lin resting on his scoring, and started to facilitate. Livingston hit a silky turnaround to keep the scoreboard ticking.
By halftime, the Knicks had stretched the lead to 38-52. Miami's three-point plan was sputtering, every miss feeding New York's fast break.
The Heat's legs started to go in the third. Their playoff road had been heavier, and it showed. Lin sensed it and attacked relentlessly.
When he scored his 30th point with a twisting drive, Madison Square Garden rose as one, chanting, "M-V-P! M-V-P!"
Elizabeth Olsen watched from courtside, chin resting on her hand, eyes wide. Lin looked untouchable—poised, powerful.
Early in the fourth, Riley signaled Spoelstra to pull the plug. The gap was too wide, the Knicks too composed. Protecting the team's morale mattered more than chasing a lost game.
Lin closed with 34 points, a calm at the center of the storm.
The Jumbotron read 76-105.
After high-fives and hugs with his teammates, Lin made the rounds of the celebrity row.
"You were ice out there," Yao Ming said, shaking his head.
"They were gunning for you. Glad you're in one piece," Steph Curry added with a grin.
Lin patted Curry on the shoulder. "One down," he said quietly. "Take the next one, and we've got them where we want them."
...
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