Actually, because of Lin Yi's arrival, James — who walked in with his own BGM — wasn't the unluckiest guy that night. That honor went to Howard.
Although his relationship with the Magic's front office would completely fall apart later that season, at the time, the fans in Orlando still wanted him to stay. Since the All-Star Game was being held in his city, Howard was supposed to be the home hero — the All-Star vote leader of 2012.
But Lin Yi's emergence changed everything. The ripple effect was brutal. Superman's popularity steadily declined, and every time he was outshone, the frustration deepened.
As the season went on, his effort waned, his attitude soured, and fans began to notice. The comparisons to Lin didn't help — they never do.
Before the All-Star Game, while everyone was stretching and joking around, James grinned and told him, "Hey, man, it's your home court tonight. I actually brought earplugs — don't want my eardrums blown out when they cheer for you."
Howard laughed, all confidence and pride. "You better wear them tight, bro. This is my city!"
In his mind, no matter what issues he had with management, the fans would always be behind him. He was still Superman in their hearts.
Then came the player introductions.
The Western team entered first, and as the lights dimmed, the DJ called out the starters for the East.
Howard was the first one up. Arms raised, chest out, grinning wide — he looked every bit like a king returning to his throne. The Amway Center erupted in cheers. Howard waved proudly to the stands, soaking it all in.
James, watching from the tunnel, nodded.
"Alright," he muttered. "Guess the earplugs were worth it."
But then…
"He's the King of New York… the magician who can do it all…" the DJ boomed, dragging out the last name.
"Liiiiiin Yiii!"
The entire arena exploded.
"MVP! MVP! MVP!"
The sound was deafening. Fans jumped to their feet. Even players on both benches turned their heads.
Howard froze mid-wave.
James blinked. "…Well, damn."
Barkley's voice thundered over the broadcast, laughing. "That's the crowd showing love for Lin! The guy's been putting on a show for the fans in the past two years — while others sit out the Dunk Contest, he kept showing up. This is their payback!"
Kenny Smith chimed in, "You're right, Chuck! And I can't wait for the Houston All-Star Game next year. Mark my words, Lin's gonna set Space City on fire!"
Shaq, who had seen the reports that Lin planned to join the next Dunk Contest, leaned into the mic. "Lin's the main man tonight. No question about it."
Lin, for his part, hadn't expected this kind of energy. He'd underestimated how badly fans wanted someone to revive the fun of All-Star Weekend — especially after the dunk contest disaster the night before.
Meanwhile, Howard's smile faded. His home crowd had just cheered louder for anotherman.
James couldn't help but laugh quietly. The irony stung even him — those earplugs really were for Lin.
When the introductions ended, Barkley declared, "This might be the strongest Eastern Conference All-Star lineup we've seen in years. The West's got plenty of young talent, but this East team… wow."
Paul, Wade, James, Lin Yi, and Howard started for the East. The bench? Rose, Anthony, Deron, Bosh, Joe Johnson — a loaded roster.
The West, meanwhile, had fresh faces like Gallinari, Irving, and Marc Gasol making their first appearances. Westbrook was starting alongside Durant — his first time too.
...
In California, Stephen Curry sat watching the broadcast, slumped on the couch. He'd been close to making the team that year.
Ayesha noticed his frown and put a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, don't look so down. You'll be there soon. You're the best in my book."
Curry smiled, kissed her, and stared back at the TV.
"Next year," he murmured. His usually clear eyes had turned sharp and determined — the look Lin knew well.
"If Lin pulls off another All-Star MVP tonight… that'd make three in a row," Curry whispered. No one in NBA history had ever done that.
...
The lights dimmed again. Tip-off.
Howard jumped against Yao Ming — and lost.
Lin couldn't help but grin. Yao really did have Howard's number. The Western team went straight to Yao in the post, where he calmly hit a turnaround jumper over Dwight.
2–0, West.
Kobe had actually insisted that Yao take the first shot. He knew millions of Chinese fans were watching and wanted to give them something special.
"It's called paying respect," he'd told his teammates with a face that brokered no argument.
Then came the East's first possession.
Paul brought it up, glanced up for options. He spotted Lin curling along the baseline.
Durant hesitated. He didn't want to come out too aggressively — it was an exhibition game, after all.
That half-second was all Lin needed. Paul fired a perfect pass. Lin caught it, rose, and let it fly from deep — way beyond the arc.
Swish!
All net.
"Lin Yi! A super long three to start the game for the East!" the commentator shouted.
2–3.
Just as Lin Yi opened the scoring for the East with that smooth, long-range three, he suddenly heard a familiar chime in his head.
Ding! The Limitless Range badge has been upgraded from Gold to Amethyst
The crowd at Amway Center was roaring, but Lin froze for half a heartbeat. With this upgrade, he had only one gold badge left — Rebounding Maniac. Every other major badge he'd been grinding for all season, from Olajuwon's Dream Footwork to Tough Shotmaker, had finally hit Amethyst level.
Took him long enough.
This season, Lin had been firing from deep more aggressively than anyone in the league. ESPN had the numbers: 48 attempts from beyond 30 feet, 18 makes — a wild 37.5%. Most attempts and the second-best percentage in the league.
First place? His old college roommate Curry. Twenty-four attempts, twelve makes, but with half of Lin's volume.
What helped Lin accelerate the badge progress, though, wasn't just volume. It was… a loophole. He'd initially assumed he needed to launch those absurd 30-footers for progress, but later realized that as long as he shot from just behind the line, the system counted it.
So in Knicks games, fans often saw him slide half a step back before pulling up. The line was basically lava to him.
He got so used to it that even in practice, he'd catch himself stepping half a meter behind the arc automatically. The NBA line is 7.24 meters; Lin's average attempt sat around 7.74.
And because of that range, most defensive schemes against him this season either failed outright or collapsed after a few minutes.
Lin's scoring average was down to 26.7 per game, but his three-point volume was at a personal high — 7.1 attempts a night. Teams obsessed over cutting off his drives, but he'd simply take whatever the defense surrendered. Why brute-force your way through traffic when you can casually drop a missile from the parking lot?
ESPN's shot charts painted a funny picture: for a 7-foot forward, Lin was living either at the rim or a few giant footsteps behind the three-point line. Everything in the middle had been sacrificed for badge-grinding efficiency.
Among his badges, some had immediate impact — Tough Shotmaker helped steady his pull-ups, Dream Footwork gave him crafty footwork — but LimitlessRange always felt like the odd one out. Cool glow, questionable usefulness. Most of his long bombs went in because of his touch, not the badge.
Tonight, though… tonight felt different.
With the badge now at Amethyst, something had clearly changed. Lin felt a sharpness, a clarity — something he'd always associated with Curry and Klay. Those guys weren't just accurate. They were ridiculously accurate. The type who could bury you under a storm of threes before you even realized the game had tilted.
Lin knew his own scoring tended to be stable, deliberate. Even his 86-point game was built on efficiency, not streakiness. If he ever developed that same explosive gear… half the league would be in serious trouble.
Right on cue, the system fed him the rules for the new upgrade:
"When the host's touch is 'Hot,' Limitless Range (Amethyst) has a 50% chance to activate.
When touch is 'Super Hot,' activation chance increases to 80%.
Once activated, the host enters God Mode for 1 minute (net active time). During this period, shots from 7.74 meters to the LOGO have a 100% hit rate.
Can only activate once per game."
A tiny pointer appeared on the badge icon, spinning like a carnival wheel.
Lin's touch tonight: Hot.
Fifty percent.
A coin flip.
The pointer spun… then stopped.
God Mode.
The badge lit up like a purple sun, and a timer appeared above it, ticking down. Lin's heartbeat kicked up. He didn't even have time to joke back at Yao Ming, who waved him over after scoring in the post.
Paul brought the ball up. LeBron called for it on the wing.
But Lin? He had both arms up.
Paul hesitated only a flash. Whatever Lin was cooking, he wanted in on it. He swung the ball over immediately.
Durant was guarding Lin near the All-Star midcourt logo. KD dropped into his stance, ready to give Lin a little more resistance than the typical All-Star jog.
But Lin didn't wait.
No hesitation. No jab. No setup.
He caught. Rose. Fired.
A full-moon bow drawn back and released.
Everyone's knees buckled at once.
Bang—swish!
..
From the couch back in California, Curry — who had been sulking about the All-Star snub — suddenly sat upright and threw his hands up. Ayesha gave him a look.
"Seriously? You were moping two minutes ago."
Charles Barkley ripped off his headset, practically shouting into the mic:
"LIN! YI! FROM THE LOGO!"
The arena was shaking. Paul slapped Lin on the back. Durant could only blink.
God Mode activated.
.
How wild is a pull-up three from the LOGO?
Back when Lin Yi was still just a fan, he remembered the moments that made him drop to his knees—and one of them came courtesy of Klay Thompson in Game 6 of the 2015–16 West Finals. The Warriors were on the brink, the shot clock still had double digits left, and Klay casually circled to the top of the arc… right in front of the LOGO… and let it fly over Westbrook.
No hesitation. No setup. Just shot it.
After Lin Yi knocked down his opening sniper shot tonight, the clock kept ticking, and he felt that on this All-Star stage—where range basically doesn't exist—he needed at least three of those bombs to feel satisfied.
So when Durant, still looking stunned, caught a pass from Westbrook and started his move, Lin Yi just stared at him. No defensive stance, no hands up—just a straight, unreadable stare.
Durant blinked. Was Lin Yi seriously defending with his eyes?
That split-second lapse threw Durant's steps off, but he still twisted in mid-air for a layup past Howard.
"Too ugly!"
"We want Lin!"
"Support Black Widow! Don't let Durant even get the foot wash!"
Durant: Can't I even breathe in peace today?
At Amway Center, Lin Yi's back-to-back deep threes had already blown the roof off. On the East's third possession, Chris Paul once again ignored every other superstar on the floor, because Lin Yi had just given him the universal sign for "feed me—and I'll treat you to way too much fried chicken."
Here we go again.
Locked in, loaded—Round three.
This time, none of the commentators even bothered sitting properly—they were up on their feet—because Durant finally played real defense… but Lin Yi's shot was pure nonsense.
He'd just sold a dribble fake, and Durant was convinced Lin Yi would drive. Because realistically—who keeps chucking shots this reckless? What player with actual coaching in their life thinks launching from nine meters is normal?
Brother, you're nine meters out!
You played college ball!
Where is the logic?!
Durant felt his brain overheating. He'd entered the night as the West's main man, ready to take over in Orlando—but Lin Yi firing off these playground missiles was breaking something inside him.
Lin Yi: Sorry, my school was Davidson, and my teammate Steph.
Swish.
Kenny Smith wrapped himself around Shaq, as if he needed emotional support. Shaq shook his head so hard it was a workout. In his mind, only two people on earth played with this kind of beautiful insanity: Kobe… and Lin Yi.
Both benches were on their feet. On the floor, LeBron and Wade stared at Lin Yi like he'd secretly been training as an artillery unit. These weren't normal threes—they were morale breakers, IQ drainers.
Yes, even teammates' IQs took splash damage.
Amway Center had turned into a festival.
"He really just… shot that?" LeBron muttered. He had always known Lin Yi had range, but this was a whole new dimension.
Wade looked just as stunned. Across the court, Yao Ming gave the ball to Kobe with the expression of a man questioning reality. Kobe glanced at Lin Yi and seemed to think: Yeah, that's my kind of kid. This wetness is crazy.
It was the All-Star game. Fun was the only rule.
Kobe promptly ignored Brooks' playbook and fired a long three of his own—but it clanged off the rim. Waist strength probably wasn't top-tier lately.
Under the basket, Howard boxed out Yao and was about to secure an easy rebound… until Lin Yi swooped in above him like a man possessed by Nick Young's spirit. He ripped the board away and immediately sprinted upcourt.
Howard: "..."
Brother, we're teammates.
Before the West could even organize itself, Lin Yi crossed half-court… and launched again.
Durant, retreating on defense, nearly tripped. He thought Lin Yi was just showing off at this point—and the shot was clearly off-balance. No rhythm. Should've been a brick.
Durant watched Lin Yi turn away in early celebration. Durant sneered.
Go ahead and miss. Please.
Swish.
Durant: "..."
Eastern bench: "..."
Western bench: "..."
"Oh—! Someone find my jaws in Orlando, I'm begging!"
"This is the craziest All-Star opening I've ever seen! Lin Yi has hit four straight threes—the first half a meter beyond the arc, the second from the LOGO, and the last two from at least nine meters!"
Orlando instantly forgot how disappointing the Slam Dunk Contest was. As the commentators put it:
The best always comes last. If it's not the best, it's not the ending.
Brooks still didn't call a timeout. In his mind, calling a timeout two minutes into an All-Star game would look weak. And surely Lin Yi wouldn't keep shooting like this in a real game.
To Brooks, these shots were nothing but showmanship, but Lin Yi knew better.
This wasn't showing off. This was a preview of the future.
Because with defenses getting tighter every year, the league's best shooters would need to pull from farther and farther out. By 2015–16, Curry was hitting 30-footers at around 50%. This wasn't flash—it was spacing, evolution, and inevitability.
Back on the court, Kobe rose for another pull-up three—this one normal range, but still silky.
9–12.
And with Lin Yi's infinite range buff about to expire, the East set up again. Paul delivered the pass. Even LeBron stopped asking for touches. Howard didn't even bother running inside.
Everyone just… watched.
Durant threw his full wingspan at Lin Yi. The contest was heavy, Lin Yi's form bent out of shape—but the shot still left his fingertips clean.
The arc hung in the air, and both benches braced each other so nobody jumped too hard.
Beep!
Bucket. Foul.
A super-long four-point play.
Lin Yi's final sniper round of the night.
The All-Star game wasn't even three minutes old—and Lin Yi had already broken the difficulty settings.
Lin Yi's early explosion had the entire Amway Center rubbing their eyes in disbelief.
He'd dropped 25 points in the first quarter alone. And when the horn sounded for the official timeout, even Erik Spoelstra—usually the calmest man in the room—looked completely lost.
Because how exactly do you draw up tactics for someone who has abandoned logic altogether?
Spoelstra, raised under Riley's strict, orderly basketball philosophy, kept thinking: If Lin Yi played like this in a real game, I'd…
He paused. What could he do? Bench him? Lecture him?
He couldn't do a thing.
Lin was having the time of his life out there, and Spoelstra wasn't about to yank him just to enforce the system. At the end of the day, a shot that falls is good, no matter how outrageous.
Spoelstra tugged at his hair in frustration. If he tried to stop this, he'd just give himself a migraine. For the first time, he wondered whether D'Antoni dealt with this kind of headache daily.
In reality, he didn't. D'Antoni had long complained that Lin didn't shoot enough threes—and as far as D'Antoni was concerned, if you could knock down those ridiculous bombs at above 35%, then fire away. That was the freedom his system promised.
..
During the break, Lin sat on the bench and gathered his thoughts. He genuinely hadn't expected Limitless Range to upgrade tonight—and now that it had, he realized this might've been the badge's first serious appearance in an All-Star Game.
Life has a funny sense of timing.
The system, to Lin, was just another form of talent. He never leaned on it blindly. His career wasn't built on luck.
He'd run his own data. Over the years, less than one-fifth of his deep threes were actually boosted by Unlimited Range. Most of the time, the badge was basically meditating in the background, doing nothing at all.
So Lin had always taken the same approach: if Limitless Range lit up, great. If not, he'd rely on himself.
No excuses, no self-pity. That wasn't who he was.
But now that the badge had jumped from gold to amethyst, he needed to rethink some things.
First: the trigger pattern finally made sense. Once activated, the badge gave him an insane burst for a short window—a full minute of long-range carnage. Unlike before, when the thing could stay dark for months, this felt reliable. This felt like a real weapon.
Lin Yi's verdict: five-star user experience.
If he could fully understand Hot Hand and Super Hot Hand, he could learn exactly how to flip the switch whenever he needed.
The luck factor was real, but he'd triggered it once tonight. And a question popped into his mind: if the pointer landed on the fire icon, could he still activate the badge again later in the same game?
The system never said the switch could only be primed once—only that he could use the skill once per game.
Lin loved loopholes. Harden's step-backs, LeBron's famous "extra steps"… If the rules give you space, why not use it? Someone else will.
Second: could he choose when to activate Limitless Range?
Imagine saving it for the second quarter… or the third… or the final minute of a tight game. One minute of pure time wasn't long, but it wasn't short either. With smart timing, he could get up three, maybe four bombs. Worst case, two.
Game-changing.
That's why Lin was so focused tonight. His 3 A.M. workouts were paying off, and his actual strength had grown far beyond his baseline attributes. But the ceiling was there. To break through it, he needed talent points earned through games.
Which meant any extra weapon was worth studying.
He had no intention of pretending to be noble about this. Warriors fans in the future weren't going to apologize for having too many superstars; why should he apologize for having another tool?
Winners write the rules. Losers write think pieces.
..
Back on the court, the Amway Center crowd was restless, chanting desperately for Lin to return. Paul slapped Lin's back, eyebrows raised as if to say: Ready to keep cooking?
Lin grinned. "You already know."
Spoelstra sighed, gave up on the order, and put Lin and Paul back in with six minutes left in the second quarter. He had no desire to test the fans' patience tonight. If Lin confronted him after the game, ranting about being benched, it'd be a mess.
By the time Lin checked in, the West had cut the gap to 59–64. Just as Lin predicted before tip-off: too many stars, not enough possessions.
Basketball itself was helpless—What do you want me to do? I am only one ball!
As Lin walked onto the court, he resisted the urge to pat Gallinari on the head. SBC was hustling hard as a reserve tonight and had just hit a three right before Lin checked in.
With the crowd roaring again, the Eastern All-Stars brought the ball up. Paul and Lin linked instantly, and Howard glanced skyward with a look of pure resignation. This was his home floor, yet he felt like the third wheel… If only he could sub himself out and escape being part of their nonstop highlight reel.
Howard's little tricks weren't helping either. Even when he tried to inbound to LeBron or Wade, they had already lost much of their usual ball-handling share tonight. Were they supposed to lob the ball back to Lin and then stand politely to the side?
Apparently so.
Gallinari stuck close to Lin, but the Western All-Stars were spooked. Lin's early barrage had left a shadow in everyone's mind. It was the psychological weight of seeing a ballistic missile fly over your head.
Lin blew past Gallinari with one swift step. With Gallinari crowding him too tightly, Lin accelerated like he was carrying TNT.
Marc Gasol saw him coming and instantly shifted into his brother's famous you can have it defense. No resistance, no fouls, no heroics—just survival.
"Oh ho, Lin walks in for another easy two," Kenny Smith said. "You really have to admire his feel for the game tonight."
"Smooth. Effortless. The fans definitely got their money's worth," Barkley added. "Look at the crowd—they're loving every minute of this. This is the kind of All-Star Game people always say they want."
Seeing the momentum shift, Brooks hurried Durant, Kobe, and Westbrook back into the game. Lin didn't mind—he actually respected Durant. Being guarded by LeBron and Howard tonight and still scoring 18 was no small feat.
But Durant was getting overshadowed completely. And when he checked his mentions at halftime… well, he might need a new phone.
Swish
Lin found his rhythm again. Even with Durant flailing like a mantis in front of him, Lin buried another deep three.
Durant: "…"
At that point, what was he supposed to think?
With Paul orchestrating everything smoothly, Lin's scoring switch was fully activated.
Lin Yi once again dragged the rhythm of the All-Star Game into his own orbit.
.
As the third quarter tipped off, the crowd was buzzing. The Western All-Stars came out firing from the jump—clearly, Lin Yi's 37-point first half had struck a nerve.
Nobody on the West wanted to be a background character tonight. So the moment the second half started, the pace and physicality instantly went up a level.
Sensing the shift, Lin Yi didn't force the issue. Instead, he started moving without the ball, cutting, screening, and setting up LeBron and TheFlash with crisp, showy passes.
James finally fought his way through the Western team's forest of bodies to get a tough two.
Kenny Smith, half-joking, shook his head. "LeBron's got to be smarter. He should take a page out of Lin's book—sometimes getting buckets doesn't need to be this complicated."
To him, Lin looked like the perfect teammate on the surface… but also like someone who had quietly set him up. First Lin padded his own stats, then left James to wrestle with the Western front line, and worst of all, Lin was standing on the sideline, cheering him on like the ultimate supportive teammate.
The truth was, Lin and Paul couldn't dominate the ball the whole night. If they did, the Eastern All-Stars—packed with so many high-usage players—would've imploded long before the West made a run. But now? After Lin and Paul had had their fun scoring, they were telling everyone else to attack?
Lin Yi and Paul's attitude: And what's the problem with that?
The rest of the Eastern All-Stars: "…"
.
To be fair, the game really was one of the most entertaining All-Star matchups of the past decade. Lin Yi's early fireworks and the West's high-pressure response in the second half had the building rocking.
After the third quarter, Brooks rolled out Westbrook, Kobe, Durant, Griffin, and Marc Gasol. Spoelstra, on the other hand, had to accept reality… Howard was better off staying on the bench tonight.
In the fourth, Lin Yi slid back to center—his old, familiar spot. The East's closing lineup was full of ball-dominant players: Paul, Wade, James, Anthony, and Lin Yi. If the basketball had a voice, it would probably be trembling.
It was also Anthony's first time teaming up with Lin Yi, and the experience had him thinking. Very quietly, he began resenting the Nuggets' front office. If he'd moved to New York sooner… maybe he would've been wearing a ring already.
"Lin already has thirteen rebounds tonight," Barkley noted. "He's my pick for this year's rebounding leader."
"In that case, he just needs the assists and steals titles to round it out," Kenny added.
By the fourth quarter, Lin Yi had embraced his inner Rodman—boxing out, crashing the glass, doing the gritty work. Griffin's short wingspan and Marc Gasol's ten-centimeter vertical had no chance against him.
He didn't mind the role either. Center was fun. What he didn't enjoy was defending Durant. That job fell to James, who had been working both ends all night—attacking on one side, chasing Durant on the other.
Because Durant was hitting tonight, any defensive lapse became James' fault. Social media and the TV crew immediately started circling.
Spoelstra originally wanted Lin Yi to keep guarding Durant, but Lin immediately shut that down.
To borrow a classic Arsenal meme: That's impossible.
Lin gave Spoelstra a passionate explanation about protecting the paint in a four-small lineup, and how chasing Durant outside would break the East's defensive shape.
His speech was so convincing that even James felt guilty. Lin had been ripping down rebounds all half, one of the main reasons the East was still ahead.
So James thumped his chest and declared he'd take Durant himself.
Lin Yi wanted to hug him… but seeing James dripping with sweat, he reconsidered and simply handed him a towel.
"It's on you now, LeBron. I've never watched Jordan live, but to me, you and my idol Kobe are the two greatest players in this league."
James was genuinely moved by hearing this from the current league MVP.
.
In the end, the West couldn't close the gap. Kobe wasn't hunting MVP. The West's offense leaned too heavily on Durant's mid-range jumper, and it just wasn't enough.
Westbrook, in his first All-Star Game start, got impatient. He and Kobe missed five straight shots late in the fourth, while Lin Yi kept slipping through screens for easy scores, keeping the East steady.
"Lin's incredible," Kenny Smith said. "It's just a shame the Knicks rarely need him in fourth quarters."
"Because the Knicks don't have fourth quarters!" Barkley laughed. "Kenny, we might be watching history here. Lin's already got 45 points and 17 rebounds. If he doesn't win MVP tonight, I'm filing a complaint myself."
147–136. The Eastern All-Stars closed out their third straight win, the whole arena roaring.
Most of the media put the victory at Lin Yi's feet. Ever since he became an All-Star starter, the East had beaten the West three times in a row.
But no one was happier than Commissioner Stern. After last summer's lockout, All-Star interest had dipped hard. He had been worried about the turnout and excitement.
And here came Lin Yi—an angel disguised as a 7-footer—pulling the entire show up by himself.
Stern wasn't about to ruin the moment. So on the night of the 26th, Lin Yi did something no one else had ever done.
Three straight All-Star Game MVPs.
"Give it up for Lin Yi again!"
"He's the first player in NBA history to win three in a row! Even Jordan never pulled that off," Barkley announced.
...
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