December.
Amway Arena, Orlando
The Magic were sitting fourth in the Eastern Conference, still a respectable force, though the sheen of their Finals run had long faded. Before tip-off, Lin Yi made it a point to snap a photo with Vince Carter. Among the once-dominant Shooting Guards era, Iverson had retired, McGrady's Pistons chapter had already dimmed, and Kobe—well, Kobe was still doing his thing in L.A., occasional hiccups and all. Carter, however, was the last one standing from that group.
The Magic remained dangerous, but Lin Yi knew they were no longer a championship-caliber unit. If history stayed on track, this season would be the one where Orlando shipped Carter off in a deal for Jason Richardson, and they'd even bring in Gilbert Arenas for reinforcements. Dwight Howard's offense had always dictated the real ceiling for these Magic teams—or lack thereof in certain situations.
When the game slowed to a half-court grind, you couldn't count on Dwight's offense to bail you out. Too inconsistent, too predictable. And with Jameer Nelson, Rashard Lewis, and Hedo Türkoğlu all past their peaks, a rebuild seemed inevitable.
From a management perspective, Lin Yi thought Orlando's problems went back years. Signing Rashard Lewis to that infamous $100+ million deal had crippled their flexibility. It was like handing over your credit card for a lavish dinner, only to realize later you'd paid double for the dessert and didn't even get the main course. Ten years ago, they'd had options—and somehow managed to choose the worst one available.
...
On the broadcast, Yu Jia's voice came through on CCTV:
"Tonight, the Knicks are starting Billups. Director Zhang, how do you see this move?"
Zhang chuckled before replying. "Chauncey Billups is a big-game player. If the Knicks are bringing him in, they're making it clear—they're gunning for a deep playoff run."
...
Starting Lineups:
Knicks:
Tyson Chandler
Lin Yi
Danilo Gallinari
Wilson Chandler
Chauncey Billups.
Magic:
Dwight Howard
Hedo Türkoğlu
Rashard Lewis
Vince Carter
Jameer Nelson.
At center court, Lin Yi and Howard squared up for the opening tip. Ever since Lin Yi had shifted to playing power forward, Howard had been a little friendlier toward him—chatty even.
Lin Yi smiled inwardly. Howard's boyish confidence was almost endearing, but Lin knew the All-Star voting was around the corner. With Chinese fans in his corner, he figured Shaq could probably get voted in just for showing up. Superman was in for a surprise if he thought the fan vote would be his uncontested domain.
The ref tossed the ball up—higher than Lin Yi liked—and Howard won the tip. The Magic's first possession was a classic Nelson–Howard pick-and-roll. Billups fought through the screen early, and the now-slower Nelson couldn't shake him. Unable to muscle past, Nelson lobbed it toward Dwight, only for Tyson Chandler to stretch out and intercept it clean.
Howard never liked facing Chandler. Chandler's length and persistence made post-ups a chore, and the physical battles always left him more frustrated than successful.
The Knicks didn't push the break—both Stan Van Gundy and Mike D'Antoni had an eye for defensive discipline tonight. Still, Lin Yi came up to set a high screen for Billups. Nelson tried to crowd him, but Lewis ended up switching onto Lin Yi far too late. Billups, calm as ever, stepped into the open space.
Splash.
3–0 Knicks.
"The thing about Billups," Yu Jia remarked, "is that his shooting form rarely wavers."
Zhang nodded. "And Lin Yi's screens make those shots look effortless. That one was textbook."
Billups and Lin Yi shared a high-five as the Magic brought it back down. This time, Howard called for the ball in the low post. Carter fed him, but Tyson Chandler held his ground. Dwight spun to his left, launched a rushed hook… and it barely dropped.
On the sidelines, Shaquille O'Neal—always one to keep things light—covered his face and laughed.
On the very next possession, Lin Yi decided to give Howard a little demonstration. Billups swung it his way, and Lin Yi went to work on Lewis—quick spin, tight pivot, and then a feint that drew Howard over for help. In mid-air, Lin Yi shifted, avoiding the block, and hammered it home with his off-hand.
Bang!
The backboard rattled, and even a few Magic fans had to nod in appreciation.
5–2.
On the sideline, Shaquille O'Neal rose to his feet, clapping as he shook his head in mock disbelief. Lin Yi's last move had been a thing of beauty, even cheeky—but undeniably effective.
"Man… who even teaches this kid that kind of move?" Shaq chuckled to no one in particular.
The Magic came right back down, stubbornly sticking to the game plan—dump it into Dwight Howard on the block. This time, Tyson Chandler was ready. He bodied up, kept his feet, and forced Howard into a pair of hesitant shuffles before the ref blew the whistle for a travel.
Howard threw his arms out in frustration, looking to the official for an explanation.
Lin Yi, hands on his hips, could only shake his head slightly. Such crazy athletic gifts, he thought, but he still makes it harder than it needs to be.
Howard's defensive instincts were elite. But on offense, against the right defender, they didn't always translate.
On the Knicks' next possession, Lin Yi decided to give D12 a live tutorial. After receiving the ball at the elbow, he took a deliberate step, froze Howard with a subtle shoulder fake, and glided to the rim in what looked like an impossibly smooth, almost extended layup.
Lin Yi's four-step gather—learned from James Harden during summer workouts—was just within the boundaries of what NBA refs tended to let slide. If the mechanics stayed consistent, the whistle rarely came.
Howard, however, wasn't convinced. He gestured animatedly at the nearest referee.
"Wait, wait—how is that not a travel? If I did that, you'd call it in a heartbeat!"
The ref barely glanced at him, muttering something along the lines of, "I didn't see a travel." The big screen replay didn't change his mind either.
Back on the broadcast, Yu Jia chimed in:
"That's Lin Yi's fourth point of the night, and you can already see how much more comfortable he looks with Billups running the point."
Zhang replied with a nod. "Exactly. Billups understands spacing, and he knows how to create lanes for Lin Yi to work with."
The Amway Arena crowd had grown noticeably quieter. The Magic's perimeter shooting had been one of their strong points this season, but tonight, their offense was stalling badly. Lin Yi and Tyson Chandler didn't even need constant help to contain Howard—Lin's length alone was enough to disrupt his rhythm.
Meanwhile, Gallinari, often criticized for his defense, was glued to Rashard Lewis, denying him the open catch-and-shoot looks he thrived on. Stan Van Gundy paced the sideline with his arms crossed, already looking uneasy. If this kept up, he might have to burn a timeout far earlier than he'd like.
On the next Magic possession, Nelson looked unsure whether to force another post-up. That split second of hesitation was all Billups needed—he jumped the passing lane, picked off the ball cleanly, and instantly pushed it upcourt.
Wilson Chandler was already streaking ahead. Billups hit him in stride, and Chandler rose for a thunderous tomahawk jam.
9–2, Knicks.
Two minutes into the game, Van Gundy finally signaled for a timeout, shaking his head as his players trotted toward the bench. The Knicks, on the road, had just punched first.