The taste of venison really is something special—at least that's how it felt for the Knicks, who carved up the Bucks again in Game 2.
This time, Brandon Jennings tried to adjust, and the loss wasn't squarely on his shoulders. His shot was still ice-cold—just 4-for-14 from the field—but he dished out seven assists and kept Milwaukee from getting completely blown off the floor. The final margin was a mere thirty points, which, for the Bucks, almost counted as progress.
"The gap between these two teams is huge," Charles Barkley said on the broadcast, shaking his head. "It's only a matter of time before New York sweeps them."
Elsewhere in the East, things were far less predictable. The Atlanta Hawks surprised everyone by stealing a game from Miami. Josh Smith was in full flight—highlight dunks, chasedown blocks—and under Joe Johnson's steady hand, the Hawks tied the series at one apiece.
The LeBron chatter lit up immediately. Fans were already spinning new jokes online:
"Bron, time to turn it up for the playoffs!"
They teased him about Chris Bosh's rebounding, claiming Miami needed someone—anyone—to take the load off. Lin Yi scrolled through the comments and couldn't help but laugh. The creativity of LeBron's critics was something to behold; the digs landed without a trace of obvious malice.
Truth was, the Heat weren't invincible. The Hawks matched up well, and their physical style made life tough for Miami's stars. Lin found himself feeling a little sympathy for James—but the longer that series dragged on, the better for the Knicks.
By April 23, the series shifted to Milwaukee—same story. The Knicks cruised to a 3–0 lead, and the Bucks' faithful who packed the arena could only tip their caps. In today's NBA, small-market miracles are rare.
Jennings finally put together something respectable—4-for-10 shooting, 10 points, five assists, a long-awaited crack at 40 percent from the field. It still wasn't enough.
Two nights later, New York finished the job. A clean sweep.
After Game 4, the Bucks exhaled, beaten but not broken. Earning a playoff berth had been a grind, and running into the Knicks felt like hitting a brick wall. Some players joked it was like showing up to a gunfight with a pocketknife.
Lin barely broke a sweat, averaging just 28 minutes a night. New York's shooters were so hot they often had games wrapped up by halftime. His series numbers—27.5 points, 10.4 rebounds, 5.1 assists, 2.4 blocks—actually trailed his regular-season averages.
"If Jennings hadn't helped pad my rebounding totals with all those misses," Lin said with a grin, "I might not have cracked double digits on the glass."
Back in New York, coach Mike D'Antoni scheduled daily scrimmages to keep everyone sharp. Around the league, the picture grew even rosier for the Knicks. Their potential Eastern Conference challengers were slogging through grueling series: Heat and Hawks locked 2–2, Celtics and Magic also 2–2. The Bulls led the Sixers 3–1, though Andre Iguodala promised to drag it back to Philly.
Out West, the drama was even wilder. Memphis held a 3–1 edge on San Antonio, and FedExForum was buzzing like never before. The veteran Spurs suddenly looked mortal. Tim Duncan fought alone in the paint, and coach Gregg Popovich knew changes were coming.
The Lakers and Rockets were trading blows, too. Houston fans still cherished memories of Yao Ming battling L.A. back in '09, and this time he was logging 28 minutes a night despite the injuries. Even post-surgery, Yao schooled Andrew Bynum whenever they matched up. Kobe Bryant, never Bynum's biggest fan, once lobbied to trade the young center for Jason Kidd—an idea the front office shot down. Lin chuckled to himself: if Kobe ever went through the Dwight Howard saga a few years early, he and Shaq might have reconciled overnight.
That series was tied 2–2, and Lakers coach Phil Jackson quietly worried about Kobe's nagging injuries.
Dallas led New Orleans 3–1. Chris Paul had stolen one game almost single-handedly, but couldn't bridge the talent gap and was already eyeing a move next season.
Meanwhile, the Thunder were up 3–1 on Portland and looked ready to punch their ticket to the next round.
For the Knicks, it all added up to a perfect first act: a dominant sweep, extra rest, and rivals wearing themselves out.
...
On April 29, the Knicks finally learned who they'd face next. After a bruising, six-game slugfest with the Magic, the Boston Celtics emerged on top, 4–2.
Elsewhere in the East, the Heat and Hawks were headed for a dramatic Game 7, keeping Miami fans nervously checking scores. Chicago handled business early, knocking out the 76ers in five.
Out West, the picture was just as eventful: the Lakers outlasted Houston 4–2, Dallas eased past New Orleans 4–1, the Thunder dispatched Portland 4–1, and Memphis stunned everyone by completing toppling the Spurs 4–2.
For New York, the narrative practically wrote itself. Last year, the Celtics sent the Knicks packing in the Eastern semis. This time, the tables turned—home-court advantage belonged to the Knicks. Game 1 would tip off on May 1, while the Celtics would stumble in with barely a day's rest.
The Knicks? They'd been resting for a full week. Advantage: New York.
…
After Houston's exit, Yao Ming and Yi Jianlian made their way to New York, both in good spirits. Yao was especially composed. Pushing the Lakers to six games felt like a victory in itself.
"Coach Adelman swears if I'd played thirty-eight minutes a night, we'd have knocked them out," Yao said with a chuckle as he joined Lin Yi for dinner in a quiet Midtown restaurant. "I told him, if I play that much, there won't be a next round. Gotta look after the knees."
Health, as always, came first.
Yao had reason to smile. Seventy games played in the 2010–11 season, 13.7 points and 7.7 rebounds a night. He'd passed the 10,000-point milestone and, more importantly, bought himself extra years in the league. Pushing harder might have undone all of it.
"By the way," Yao added, raising his teacup, "the league hands out the major awards on the second. Lin, you're basically the face of Chinese basketball now."
Lin shook his head. "Brother Ming, you're the trailblazer. Without you, guys like me don't even get this shot."
It wasn't false modesty. Lin knew Yao's impact went far beyond the court. One day, Yao would run the Chinese Basketball Association and push through reforms that many thought impossible. Without his example, would Yi Jianlian have been free to leave Guangdong? Would prospects like Zhou Qi ever reach the NBA?
Yi Jianlian nodded in agreement. "Whatever happens, I hope you take this all the way to the Eastern Conference Finals."
The three of them clinked porcelain cups of tea—no wine necessary—sharing a quiet moment of respect.
May 1 arrived, and Madison Square Garden hummed with anticipation. The Knicks, rested and ready, took the floor against the old rivals from Boston.
It was time to show Doc Rivers and the Celtics a cold, hard truth: this year's Knicks were nothing like the team they bounced last spring.