On November 7, the highly anticipated New York Derby tipped off at the Brooklyn Nets' home arena, the Barclays Center.
Heading into the new season, the Nets had assembled a star-studded roster in hopes of challenging the New York Knicks for control of the city's basketball spotlight.
To strengthen their championship aspirations, Brooklyn hired franchise legend Jason Kidd as head coach immediately after his retirement. Kidd had once guided the Nets to back-to-back NBA Finals appearances, and the organization hoped he could recapture some of that magic from the sidelines.
Lin Yi had no problem with the first half of Garnett's statement. Kidd had once been one of the greatest point guards in NBA history.
The second half, however...
Lin Yi could not help thinking Garnett was giving his new coach far too much credit.
Valuable experience?
What experience?
Experience in spending nearly two decades chasing a championship, only to retire without ever getting one?
Pierce and Garnett had at least reached the mountaintop. Kidd, for all his brilliance as a player, had never won it all.
Or was Garnett talking about Kidd's experience handling off-court drama?
Before the opening introductions, another man's confidence had already taken a hit. Nets owner Mikhail Prokhorov sat courtside, quietly questioning everything. For all his wealth and ambition, he still struggled to understand the American sports market.
His reasons for buying the Nets had always extended beyond basketball. After all, Roman Abramovich had purchased Chelsea and successfully established himself among Britain's elite.
Unfortunately, comparisons only made the reality harsher.
Rather than competing with the Knicks for New York's attention, it might have been easier to build an NBA dynasty. The so-called "highly anticipated showdown" had become an event where nearly everyone had come to watch one team.
The New York Knicks.
More specifically, Lin Yi.
Looking around the packed arena, some Knicks players even joked that Barclays Center felt like a brand new Madison Square Garden.
Back to the game.
Brooklyn's starting lineup featured Deron Williams, Joe Johnson, Paul Pierce, Kevin Garnett, and Brook Lopez.
On paper, it looked terrifying.
If this lineup had existed five years earlier, it might have conquered the league.
Unfortunately, basketball was played in the present.
The roster had plenty of experience but very little remaining athleticism. Against younger, faster opponents willing to push the pace, the Nets could not keep up.
By this point in the season, Brooklyn sat awkwardly in eighth place in the Eastern Conference.
Meanwhile, the Knicks remained comfortably atop the standings despite losing Chris Paul to injury.
Time had been especially cruel to Garnett.
Playing only 26 minutes per game, the former MVP averaged just 6.5 points and 6.6 rebounds. His greatest contributions now came through emotion rather than production. Every chest pound, roar, and fist pump gave the team a temporary morale boost and energized the home crowd far more than the box score.
Without Paul Pierce occasionally reminding everyone why he was called The Truth, the Nets might have believed Boston had committed the greatest robbery in franchise history.
To assemble this aging super team, Brooklyn had mortgaged nearly every valuable draft asset for the next several years.
In Lin Yi's memories, this trade would eventually become one of the greatest gifts the Nets ever gave the Celtics, laying the foundation for Boston's future resurgence.
Deron Williams was no better.
Persistent injuries kept him in and out of the lineup, and the former All-NBA guard had originally hoped to rebuild his confidence by finally getting the better of Chris Paul.
Instead, Paul was sidelined for the season.
Deron could only sigh.
Who was he supposed to measure himself against now?
Brook Lopez had avoided a season-ending injury, but against Lin Yi, that distinction hardly mattered.
Joe Johnson had also come to a depressing realization. He had left Atlanta searching for teammates who could carry him to a championship. Instead, he had somehow become the one carrying everyone else.
Kirilenko, acquired after leaving San Antonio, was another shadow of his former self.
Lingering injuries and declining athleticism had taken their toll. The man nicknamed AK-47 had become anything but reliable. Unlike the rifle he was named after, this AK-47 jammed far too often.
Ironically, Brooklyn's most consistent player had been the endlessly energetic Mason Plumlee.
Plumlee would eventually earn a spot on Team USA. His overall talent was fairly ordinary, but one thing separated him from everyone else.
His energy never seemed to run out.
Whether he was on the court or sitting on the bench, he approached every moment with the enthusiasm of a rookie fighting for his career.
A stronger version of Robert Sacre, Lin Yi thought.
In short, there was only one opponent the Nets desperately wanted to avoid.
The New York Knicks.
Every time Lin Yi stepped to the free-throw line, chants of "MVP! MVP!" echoed throughout Barclays Center.
The sound rolled through the arena like thunder.
No matter how many times Garnett pounded his chest or roared at the crowd, he could not drown it out.
The Knicks gave Brooklyn no opportunity to believe.
Shaun Livingston, after reinventing himself, used his size and patience to bully Deron Williams on both ends of the floor.
Neither Garnett nor Brook Lopez wanted the exhausting task of guarding Lin Yi for extended stretches, leaving Kirilenko to draw the assignment.
The proud Russian battled hard, but there was little he could do.
His fading athleticism simply could not keep up.
By the end of the night, Kirilenko had unwillingly become the latest victim in Lin Yi's highlight reel.
Lin Yi erupted for 51 points.
Joe Johnson tried everything he could to keep Brooklyn within striking distance, but as the deficit continued to grow, even Iso Joe ran out of opportunities to play hero.
When the game was no longer within reach, he simply walked back to the bench, sat beside Garnett, and the two veterans resigned themselves to discussing which Brooklyn nightclub had the better nightlife after the final buzzer.
131-95.
Playing in what felt like a second home at Barclays Center, the New York Knicks dismantled the Brooklyn Nets by 36 points.
After the final buzzer, the Knicks players casually exchanged greetings with arena staff, laughing and chatting as though they had just finished another game at Madison Square Garden.
Watching from courtside, Nets owner Mikhail Prokhorov nearly questioned whether he had bought the wrong franchise.
Where was the home court advantage?
Where was the intimidating atmosphere?
Where was the fan culture I had invested billions in trying to build?
The answer was simple.
Against the New York Knicks, the Nets were still the kid sitting at the adults' table.
Jason Kidd understood that reality better than anyone.
As a player, he had led the Nets to consecutive NBA Finals and experienced firsthand the pride, arrogance, and stubborn loyalty of New York basketball fans.
To most New Yorkers, there had only ever been one NBA team.
The Knicks.
The Nets merely happened to play in the same city.
If the Los Angeles Clippers were the Lakers' unwanted neighbor, then the Nets were the souvenir cup you received after buying a ticket to a Knicks game.
. . .
On November 11, Lin Yi's scorching start to the season continued.
The Knicks welcomed the Portland Trail Blazers. Portland had become a dangerous team after assembling its explosive young backcourt.
Damian Lillard and rookie CJ McCollum possessed enough firepower to erupt at any moment.
Lin Yi never underestimated them. He knew exactly how terrifying the Trail Blazers could become once both guards found their rhythm.
The solution was simple.
Make sure they found a different kind of rhythm.
One player forcing difficult shots could still be manageable. Lillard usually attempted only fifteen to twenty shots a night.
But if both guards decided to embrace the Kobe mentality and keep firing regardless of the results...
The game was already over.
Other teams might fear Portland's hot shooting.
Lin Yi welcomed it.
Young players should learn from Kobe.
Who wanted to become one of those freakishly efficient shooters?
A true perimeter scorer should possess Kobe's fearless mentality.
If I make it, I become the hero.
If I miss it, my teammates can grab the rebound.
As the saying goes:
"When you're young, don't fear the clang."
"You'll only regret not taking enough shots when you're older."
Inspired by that imaginary philosophy, Lillard and McCollum fired away without hesitation.
The result?
They unintentionally helped Lin Yi produce a monstrous 30-point, 30-rebound performance.
As missed jumpers continued to rain off the rim, every Knicks forward suddenly transformed into Steven Adams.
Forget boxing out.
Just hunt rebounds.
By the fourth quarter, the Knicks' frontcourt no longer looked like a group of basketball players.
They looked like a demolition crew cleaning up construction debris. Every missed jumper was another piece of rubble.
Tonight, the Trail Blazers came to play basketball, and the Knicks came to clean up the aftermath.
. . .
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