Unlike the previous two All-Star Games, this year's felt different. With Paul and Anthony moving to the East—and Orlando hosting the event—the Eastern All-Stars were seen as the favorites before tip-off.
Besides the already-announced starters, the East's reserves were: Carmelo Anthony, Derrick Rose, Chris Bosh, Al Horford, Deron Williams, Paul Pierce, and Joe Johnson.
Horford had finally earned his All-Star spot this year. The Celtics, on the other hand, were in decline—only Pierce made the cut.
The Eastern backcourt was stacked, and in the frontcourt, Anthony had nearly overtaken LeBron in the fan voting.
For the West, the reserves were Dirk Nowitzki, Aldridge, Danilo Gallinari, Tony Parker, Marc Gasol, Kevin Love, and Kyrie Irving.
With Paul gone, Westbrook became the biggest winner—Russ would start at point guard for the West.
And since Curry was injured, Irving basically hit the jackpot.
From the looks of it, Gallinari's move to the Nuggets had paid off. The West's frontcourt was in a transitional phase, and if he'd stayed in New York, he might've missed the cut entirely.
...
On the morning of the 24th, the Eastern All-Stars gathered for a joint practice.
Since coaches can't lead consecutive All-Star teams, Erik Spoelstra was in charge of the East this year, while Scott Brooks handled the West.
But neither could match the aura of last year's D'Antoni and Popovich.
While explaining his tactics, Spoelstra stumbled over his words, visibly nervous in front of so many superstars.
Even worse, Rose and Deron weren't buying into his system. "If we're following all your plays," one of them joked, "why don't you just let LeBron run the offense himself?"
Thankfully, LeBron stepped in before things got awkward.
"Relax, guys," LeBron said with a grin. "It's the All-Star Game. We're here to have fun. Just follow the flow."
With that, LeBron grabbed the clipboard and started sketching plays. Watching from the side, Lin Yi couldn't help but think LeBron looked more like the real head coach than Spoelstra.
Not that the tactics really mattered.
Everyone knew how the game would go—find Paul, set the screen, run the pick-and-roll, and have fun with it.
When everyone wants the ball, the guy who can play off-ball becomes the most valuable.
Last night, Lin Yi had dinner with Paul while discussing the ball. He'd planned to take it easy this weekend, but suddenly felt like life needed some spark.
After all, earning an MVP for the time consecutively sounded pretty tempting.
...
While Spoelstra was still figuring out rotations, Brooks already had his team locked in.
The veterans out West were ready to let a young star take the spotlight—and since Durant wanted that role, Brooks wasn't going to stop him.
Kobe, meanwhile, wasn't really into it this year. The Lakers' season had been a mess, and it weighed on him.
With Melo gone East, Durant had become the West's go-to scorer.
And for KD, this felt like his moment. He'd led the league in scoring and finally believed the fans saw him as a true superstar—especially after racking up over a million All-Star votes.
...
After about an hour of light practice, Lin Yi and Paul headed back to the hotel.
That afternoon, O'Neal gave Lin Yi a call.
"Come down to the arena tonight," Shaq said, brimming with confidence. "You've gotta watch me destroy Barkley."
With nothing else planned, Paul decided to tag along with Lin.
...
That evening at the Amway Center, the Rookie Challenge tipped off: Team Shaq vs. Team Charles.
Following Lin Yi's suggestion, O'Neal started Wall, Klay, Paul George, Markieff Morris, and Cousins.
Barkley's starting five were Irving, Hayward, Leonard, Griffin, and Monroe.
On paper, both lineups looked solid in their primes—but right now, Shaq's team clearly had the edge.
Barkley couldn't figure it out. Shaq had somehow snatched all the players he wanted, and that just didn't sit right.
"How the hell does that big meathead suddenly know basketball?" Barkley grumbled.
The game began, and just as Lin Yi expected, Griffin coasted through it to save energy for the main event. Barkley subbed him out for Tristan Thompson not long after.
Shaq's team, meanwhile, ran the floor like madmen. Wall pushed the pace, Klay fired from deep every chance he got, and Paul George—still raw but athletic as hell—kept attacking.
Markieff Morris and Cousins filled the lanes perfectly.
Before long, Team Shaq had a 15-point lead.
Barkley, fuming, called a timeout.
Shaq just grinned at the camera, pulled out a cigar, and smirked like a man who'd already won.
Commentating solo, Kenny Smith couldn't help laughing. "Charles always said Shaq didn't know tactics—but looks like tactical Charles is getting schooled by Shaq."
It was pure chaos and completely one-sided.
Barkley, for all his basketball IQ, couldn't have predicted how the modern game would evolve—fast pace, spacing, and shooters like Klay who thrived even in an All-Star setting.
Lin Yi's advice to pick all three Knicks rookies had also paid off. Wall's passing kept everyone involved, and the Knicks trio were playing comfortably off the ball.
Irving, as always, was dazzling.
.
"Charles is having a nightmare," Lin Yi said to Paul, sitting courtside.
Paul chuckled. "Yeah, Shaq's loving this way too much."
And he was. Team Shaq's fast breaks and threes were rolling, while Team Barkley could only rely on Kyrie's isolation plays.
At one point, Shaq even danced on the sidelines during a timeout—then ran over and threw Barkley's clipboard away.
"Dam it! Shaq!" Barkley yelled, nearly losing it.
Shaq, meanwhile, looked like the happiest man alive.
And if things kept going this way, the Rookie Challenge was about to turn into a full-blown massacre.
..
.
Team Shaq absolutely crushed Barkley's squad—so badly that Charles probably started questioning his life choices.
By the second half, commentators across major networks were having a field day at Barkley's expense. Chris Webber quipped, "Looks like Chuck's coaching talent is about one-tenth of his basketball talent—and maybe one-hundredth of his TV talent."
Kenny Smith, Barkley's long-time sparring partner, added with a grin, "If we didn't know who the coaches were, you'd swear Team Shaq was coached by Auerbach, Phil Jackson, or Popovich—and Team Charles by, say, Byron Scott. I guess having a ring makes a difference."
"Poor Charles," Kenny went on, laughing. "I think this game just ended his coaching ambitions once and for all. I'm telling you, Shaq must've worn his lucky red underwear tonight—Team Shaq looks like a squad of Supermen."
Barkley, too busy drawing up plays to hear the mockery, might've burst a blood vessel if he had. Normally, he's the one doing the teasing, but tonight everyone seemed eager to return the favor.
This was no ordinary beatdown—it was a full-blown pig-slaughtering feast.
At first, Barkley was genuinely frustrated. He knew coaching wasn't easy, even if he liked to talk like it was. But as Team Shaq's dominance became undeniable, a single thought kept echoing in his head: was he getting rusty, or was that big oaf O'Neal suddenly a genius?
Then Barkley noticed something. Every timeout, Shaq grabbed the tactics board—then looked straight at Lin Yi, sitting quietly behind Team Shaq's bench.
"Damn it," Barkley muttered to himself. "You can't just bring in outside help!"
.
Back on the sidelines, Chris Paul leaned back in his seat at the Amway Center, munching popcorn. "Lin, how'd you know Team Shaq would run away with it like this?"
Lin Yi gave him a look. He obviously couldn't say, Because I'm a time traveler who knows exactly how these guys develop and how basketball evolves in the next decade.
Instead, Lin just shrugged. In truth, he'd made an educated guess—using everything he'd learned in the NBA so far and all the basketball instincts he'd honed over the years. He'd given Shaq a few tips, but even he didn't expect the team to look thisgood.
He'd simply bet on the natural evolution of basketball—spacing, speed, and shooting—and these young guys were built for that.
Klay's just a version of Bill with a maxed-out shooting stat, Lin thought. And Wall? Give him space, and he's a chef at point guard.
It was just unfortunate that Wall was too low-key for his own good. In future rankings, people would list all the great guards—then suddenly remember, "Oh right, there's John Wall too."
Paul George wasn't yet the smooth, balanced star he'd later become, but the athleticism was absurd. The guy was electric. Ironically, if PG hadn't suffered that brutal injury in the future, he might never have developed such a deadly jumper. Sometimes, players only find new skills when they're forced to.
Morris and Motiejunas were solid, versatile guys, while Cousins—the baby giant who mimicked Lin's inside-out style—was on the verge of breaking out. As long as he stayed healthy, that kid would be a nightmare matchup for anyone.
Team Shaq's offense—fast, open, unselfish—fits this generation's strengths perfectly. Lin's prediction had simply aligned with where the game was heading. Their dominance wasn't luck; it was a preview of basketball's future.
Paul leaned forward. " It is still impressive."
Lin patted him on the back. "Chris, you've got to think broader. When it comes to tactics…" He grinned jokingly. "You've still got room to grow."
Paul laughed and gave Lin a playful whack on the knee. "You're insufferable, you know that?"
Lin winced. "Man, can we stop making my knees a target? Between you and Steph, I'm going to need hazard pay."
Paul chuckled. "Alright then, Mister Genius—between Klay, George, and Wall, which of your rookies do you think has the highest ceiling?"
"Klay," Lin said without hesitation.
Paul nodded. "Yeah, I can see that. I used to think he was just a shooter, but his defence is coming along fine too."
Lin smiled knowingly. "Give him time. He's not even close to what he'll become."
Paul raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"
Lin leaned back. "Klay's going to be the gold standard for 3-and-D players. Maybe even the best."
Paul handed him the last piece of popcorn. "Bold words."
Lin took it, grinning. "I like a good gamble."
Paul nodded. "You know what, Lin? I think we're going to build something special together."
Lin smiled while returning to the game. "We will."
..
Team Shaq eventually wrapped up the game with a ridiculous 161–119 win.
After the final buzzer, O'Neal strutted over to Barkley, arms wide like a conquering hero. Barkley, pretending to offer a handshake, suddenly puts him into a rear wrist lock before transitioning into an arm bar on the court.
"Oh! That's a clean lock! Charles Barkley takes down Shaquille O'Neal in a heavyweight match!" Kenny Smith shouted from the booth, barely containing his laughter.
The crowd erupted. Even the losing players couldn't stay mad—how could they, when the whole thing turned into comedy gold? And credit to Shaq; without his cooperation, Chuck would never have pulled off that throw so cleanly.
Shaq got the win, Barkley got his revenge, and everyone left smiling. It was the perfect opening act for the Orlando All-Star Weekend.
Wall was named MVP with 23 points and 24 assists. Klay hit 12 threes, also setting a new Rookie Challenge record.
Team Shaq drilled 25 threes total—a number that once seemed absurd, but now felt like a glimpse of where basketball was heading.
The league's three-point revolution was in full swing, and the man most responsible for lighting that fuse—Lin Yi—was busy patting Klay on the head postgame.
"Klay, do you know why you didn't get the MVP tonight?" Lin asked seriously.
Klay nodded earnestly. "Because I didn't work hard enough."
Lin smiled. "No, no. Because you're not selfish enough. Remember, Kobe once said—"
Paul groaned beside them. "Oh god, here we go again."
Klay nodded seriously, soaking in every word, while Paul just shook his head.
"This kid's doomed," he muttered.
...
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