On December 25th, inside the bright lights of the Staples Center, the much-anticipated Christmas clash finally arrived.
Lakers versus Knicks. Kobe versus Lin Yi. Prime time.
. . .
Thousands of miles away, in a men's dorm at Beijing Media University, freshman Zhang Xiaowei leaned back in his chair and grinned after a few quick keyboard commands.
"Done."
His roommate glanced over. "Xiaowei, you've got a Tencent Sports membership. Why are you jumping through hoops to watch a Taiwanese stream?"
Zhang Xiaowei shook his head with the air of someone who had seen too much. "Da Xu, you don't get it. I want a different perspective and view of the game. And my English isn't good enough for TNT. Last time, I barely understood a word. Plus, the Taiwanese commentary is really good. Want to watch?"
That did it.
Within minutes, the whole dorm had gathered around his screen.
"Hello everyone, welcome to Future Sports. I'm commentator Xiao An, joined today by Mr. Xu Jinzhe."
A thick Taiwanese accent filled the room as the broadcast cut to the Lakers cheerleaders warming up the crowd in Los Angeles.
"Good afternoon, everyone," Xu Jinzhe added calmly.
On screen, Kobe Bryant was exchanging greetings with Lin Yi.
"Mr. Xu," Xiao An asked eagerly, "what are your expectations for this Christmas game?"
"This matchup is packed with stars," Xu replied. "The Lakers were jokingly called the F4 by fans, though they struggled early this season. Recently, they've put together a win streak, and many American media outlets still consider them championship contenders."
"And the Knicks," he continued, "are clearly different this year. Their ambitions are obvious. Lin Yi has evolved again. He's more aggressive, more decisive in the paint. He bullies his way in the post when needed or can fire a three."
Xiao An nodded. "Speaking of evolution, earlier this season against Houston, Lin Yi made thirteen three-pointers in a single game. After that, some American outlets even called him the greatest shooter of this generation. A bit premature or an honest take?"
"It was an extraordinary performance," Xu said. " Currently, it is hard to say with one hundred percent certainty, but picking him as your number one also won't be frowned upon. He is that good. "
"Alright then," Xiao An said brightly. "Let's see what kind of sparks we get between The Mamba and The Showtime. "
Back in the dorm, one roommate groaned. "These guys are unbearable. They are acting like LeBron doesn't even exist. Give The King Lin's height, and the NBA is done."
Zhang Xiaowei only smiled. As a veteran Lin Yi supporter, he had no problem with the praise.
…
Inside the arena, the starting lineups flashed across the big screen.
Knicks:
Tyson
Morris
Lin Yi
Danny Green
Paul.
Lakers:
Howard
Gasol
Artest
Kobe
Nash.
Dwight Howard was still grinning, bouncing lightly at center court.
Before tipoff, while the coaching staffs were discussing adjustments, Howard had even put on a Santa hat and wandered near the Knicks' huddle, pretending to be subtle.
Lin Yi watched from a distance and thought, you might as well walk straight over.
The Knicks and Lakers were among the few teams without mascots. Howard, with the hat over his head, looked less like Santa and more like a confused extra from a holiday commercial.
He loved entertaining the crowd. That much was genuine. But the league was not sentimental. Personality alone could not carry you forever.
At center court, Lin Yi did not hesitate.
The ball went up.
With one smooth extension of his long arm, Lin Yi tapped it cleanly back to Paul.
"Business as usual." Xiao An said. "Lin gets the jump ball. Knicks possession."
Xu responded. "The mental warfare begins. Howard lost more jump balls to Lin than anybody else since Lin came to the NBA."
The Knicks' first possession was deliberate. Instead of spreading the floor, they cleared the right side and fed Lin Yi in the low post. Only Danny Green remained on the weak side.
Howard quickly switched onto him and waved off help.
He clapped his hands. "No help. I got this."
Howard crouched low.
Lin Yi caught the entry pass, turned his back, and leaned.
Bang.
Lin Yi had added weight over the summer. He was not built like Yao Ming in his prime, but against Dwight Howard, he did not need to be.
The key was balance. Howard's upper body strength was undeniable. His bench press numbers were famous. But post-play is not a weight room competition. It is footwork, leverage, and lower-body stability.
If bench press alone decided games, strongmen would dominate the NBA. These players are called freak athletes because everything works together: strength, timing, and coordination.
Bang.
Lin Yi leaned in again. This time, Howard gave half a step. It was small, but in the post, half a step is space.
Lin Yi extended his right arm as if he were about to hook the ball toward the middle.
Howard's eyes lit up.
Finally.
He rose to contest, already imagining the block, the roar, the chest pound at center court. His signature volleyball spike.
But the moment he left the floor, Lin Yi moved.
His pivot foot stayed planted. The ball was pulled back in one smooth motion. His body rotated the other way, light on his feet.
A clean Dream Shake.
The move that Hakeem Olajuwon had patiently tried to teach Howard years ago.
At the Staples Center, the visiting team's first real attack drew a wave of noise from the home crowd.
Two points.
Lin Yi landed and glanced at the booing home crowd.
Scoreboard: 2–0.
"Dream Shake! Lin's skillset is scary." Xiao An shouted on the Taiwanese stream.
Xu Jinzhe chuckled. "That's tough. Howard's been in the league a long time. You rarely see him handled like that in the low post."
Back on the floor, Howard demanded the ball on the next possession. He went straight into the post against Tyson Chandler, looking to answer.
Kobe Bryant drifted to the weak side at a 45-degree angle, hands ready. Ron Artest hesitated, then swung it to Kobe instead of forcing it inside.
The Lakers reset and fed Howard again.
He powered into Chandler. The first bump cleared space. He turned stiffly and released a wide, looping hook.
It bounced off the rim.
He got the offensive rebound and attacked again, determined to assert himself.
He spun, lifted the ball.
A shadow covered him.
Lin Yi met it in midair.
Clean block.
The ball ricocheted forward, and Lin Yi grabbed it in stride.
No reset. No hesitation.
He pushed the break himself.
Steve Nash tried to angle him toward the sideline, but Lin Yi's shoulder dipped, and Nash was brushed aside. It was not malicious, just pure momentum.
Two more points.
4–0.
On the Taiwanese broadcast, Xiao An was almost out of breath. "That's dominance! Lin Yi just told Howard the paint belongs to him tonight."
Xu Jinzhe laughed softly. "Christmas games always bring intensity. Lin Yi looks locked in. It looks like it's going to be a long night for Superman."
In the dorm back in Beijing, someone muttered, "They're really laying it on thick."
Zhang Xiaowei thought to himself.
Lin likes them thick.