"I have to wonder, Steve, if Larry Brown is somewhere watching this game right now," Marv Albert mused as the final minutes ticked away in the Bobcats–Knicks matchup. His voice carried that familiar mixture of intrigue and quiet amusement.
Steve Kerr chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "Speaking of Larry Brown, I remember him once saying that if he had Lin under his system, he'd turn him into a traditional, back-to-the-basket center. All low-post touches, grinding out possessions. Can you imagine Lin without those threes and dribbles?"
Marv let out a small laugh. "Impossible. My mind is drawing blanks."
"No disrespect to Larry Brown." Kerr said, adjusting into his seat, "but if he was coaching him, I'm not sure Lin would be making a splash. Not because of ability—but because he'd probably only get a few minutes of playing time."
The two shared a knowing laugh before the focus returned to the court, where the Knicks were closing out a gritty road win.
...
If Milicic could keep embracing his bruising, no-nonsense style this season, there was a chance he could cement himself as one of those veteran bigs who'd fought their way into longevity—not with flash, but with stubborn survival.
The Knicks, riding the interior strength of their duo of seven-footers, wrapped up the night with a 105–97 win. On the Bobcats' side, Milicic had logged 34 hard minutes, going 5-for-9 from the field, grabbing 4 rebounds, dishing 2 assists, and blocking 2 shots.
For New York, Lin Yi was the headline again—39 minutes, 12-for-23 shooting, 4-of-8 from beyond the arc, pouring in 34 points with 7 rebounds, 5 assists, and 2 blocks.
After the buzzer, Milicic pulled Lin Yi in for a quick hug. The look in his eyes had changed—there was confidence there. Lin couldn't help but feel genuine happiness for him.
Tijana, arm looped through her brother's, gave Lin a bright smile. Milicic ruffled her hair and said, "Lin, I'm looking forward to our next matchup in New York."
Lin said. " See you in New York then."
The moment "New York" was mentioned, Tijana's eyes lit up. She'd long dreamed of becoming a star, though her brother had always kept her far from the entertainment world. Still, she seized her chance, asking Lin for his number with a teasing smile.
...
The Knicks flew straight to Washington after the win. This road stretch would soon be followed by a rare three-day rest, then a home date with the Celtics to gear up for Christmas.
Victories were piling up, and as Michael Jordan once said, winning is a habit—once it gets into your system, it's hard to give it up.
When Lin landed, Yi Jianlian rolled up in a black Range Rover, looking every bit the Chinese press had once dubbed him. Even among tall players, his size and build were striking.
" Lin," Yi called out, "let's get some real Cantonese food."
The restaurant owner was from Yi's hometown, which meant the dishes came untouched by American adjustments—pure, authentic Cantonese flavors.
Over dinner, Lin nodded at Yi's evolved mindset on the court. He'd embraced a role-player's craft—setting strong screens, rolling hard, spacing the floor with a respectable 35% from three. With Wall feeding him easy looks, his scoring was clean, efficient, and often effortless.
And though the Wizards had Arenas back for now, Lin knew the roster shake-ups were coming.
But if Lin Yi's memory was right, that reunion wouldn't last. Arenas was essentially a ticking clock in Washington—destined to be traded to Orlando in exchange for Rashard Lewis. Both contracts were bloated, both were hard to move, and the Wizards' front office had little interest in letting Arenas mentor Wall.
Strangely enough, Yi Jianlian had become the team's third scoring option. Even stranger? The first option wasn't Wall—it was Nick Young.
Nick Young, in those days, was a walking heat check. The local media loved the idea of a Wall–Young backcourt becoming the franchise's future, talking them up as if they were the second coming of Frazier and Monroe. Lin Yi, however, wasn't buying it. Experience told him those articles were built on wishful thinking.
After all, could you count on a guy who once thought it was smart to steal the ball from his teammate on the last play of a game?
After dinner and some easy conversation about the old days, Yi Jianlian drove Lin Yi back to the hotel. The two shared a mutual respect that had been forged during the summer, when Yi had spent hours in one-on-one sessions with Lin—most of which ended with Lin dominating him.
his season, Lin still led the league with an eye-popping 35.7 points per game, and Yi understood the gap. They weren't just competitors; they were teacher and student, and, in a way, brothers.
December
Verizon Center, Washington, D.C.
The Knicks came in, handled business, and walked out with a win. Washington was in full rebuild mode, and it showed. The once-feared Agent Zero now looked more like a man on an island. When Arenas sat down on the bench, most of his teammates avoided him—save for a few rookies and role players who handed him towels without making eye contact. The Arenas era was done.
Nick Young still found a way to provide comic relief. At one point, in a clear mismatch against Lin Yi, he pulled up for a three, spun around mid-shot, and threw his hands up in celebration. The ball clanged off the rim. For a few seconds, you could almost hear the awkward silence echo in the arena.
On the Knicks bench, Shaquille O'Neal couldn't hold back a laugh.
Meanwhile, Chauncey Billups was busy making Wall's life miserable. On several possessions, he gave Wall three full steps of space, almost daring him to try.
Wall struggled. Every miss chipped away at his patience.
Then came the moment that made it personal. After the game, Lin patted Wall on the shoulder and said with a smile, "John, it's simple—just flick the wrist, and it drops right in."
Wall's jaw tightened. Of course, I know how to shoot, he thought, biting back the words.
Lin, still grinning, added, "Though honestly, if you keep shooting like that, it just means you're not desperate enough to win."
Wall stood there, blinking, fighting the urge to swing.
Something about this guy… all that size, all that talent, and he still had the nerve to get under your skin. And sure, Yi Jianlian was also from China, but there was a big difference between Yi's quiet humility and Lin's… well, Lin-ness.
....
The Knicks headed back to New York for a date with the Celtics. Boston sat third in the East, their veterans circling this matchup on the calendar. The last time these teams met, the Knicks had taken the win, and Doc Rivers knew that in a playoff series, New York's threat could rival Miami's. The Celtics' veterans understood it too—if you couldn't beat them now, you might not beat them later.
Somewhere else in the East, a pair of watchful eyes followed every Knicks box score, every highlight clip.