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Chapter 361: NBA Eastern Conference Semifinals End
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 14:44:46 +0000 UTCThe Madison Square Garden crowd still remembered the sting of last season’s playoff exit to Boston. The Knicks were one win from the Eastern Conference Finals, yet the atmosphere carried an odd calm.
Had the fans become overconfident?
Probably. And who could blame them?
New York’s dominance this year had that effect. Against the Celtics, the Knicks barely broke a sweat.
Game 5 told the story. Lin Yi led the charge, and the Celtics’ veterans—valiant as ever—simply ran out of gas. There was no epic comeback, no dramatic fourth-quarter swing. Just a blunt reminder that time is undefeated.
By the first quarter, Lin was backing down Kevin Garnett with ease, the Big Ticket staring at the youngster’s footwork with something that looked a lot like reluctant admiration.
By the second, the Knicks’ shooters rained threes until Boston’s resistance faded.
The final score was brutal: Celtics 86, Knicks 121.
Series over, 4–1.
New York became the first team to book a ticket to the Conference Finals, now waiting for the winner of Miami versus Chicago.
Afterward, head coach Mike D’Antoni beamed. “It’s been a terrific season. Lin has brought the group together, and now it’s time to cash in on the work we’ve put in.”
Reporters surrounded Lin in the tunnel.
“Who would you rather face next, the Heat or the Bulls?” one asked.
Lin thought for a moment. “The Heat, I guess.”
“Why’s that?”
He smiled. “Because Miami is nice and warm.”
The room broke into awkward laughter. Warm…? That was it. Classic Lin.
For Boston, it felt like a true farewell. The legends—Garnett, Pierce, Allen—could still play, but the title window had closed. Lin couldn’t help noting that GM Danny Ainge had once been ruthless in trades, but not ruthless enough with this group. In years to come, he’d show no such hesitation—just ask Isaiah Thomas, shown the door the moment he talked too much.
Fortune continued to favour the Knicks. Shaun Livingston’s rehab was nearly complete, and D’Antoni planned to ease him back into minutes. Veteran guard Stephon Marbury embraced a smaller role.
“A team’s like a ship,” he said. “It only holds as much as its shortest plank. I’ll do whatever it takes to win.”
Lin loved that mindset and hoped younger teammates like Whiteside and Lance Stephenson were paying attention.
…
Friends whose seasons had ended drifted into the city to watch the run. Olson returned to find their living room a wreck after a team gathering.
“Sorry, we had a party last night,” Lin admitted, giving her an embrace with an apologetic grin.
She sighed, but couldn’t stay angry—he was still the tall, polite guy who somehow kept the chaos in check.
One notable absence was Chris Paul. Lin suspected he’d touched a nerve with a cheeky phone call moments after clinching the series.
“Chris, I’m heading to the Eastern Conference Finals!” he’d said. “Come to New York—we can get some fried chicken. It’s on me.”
The line went dead. When Lin called back, Paul’s phone was already off.
...
With the Knicks cruising into the Conference Finals early, they suddenly had what every playoff team dreams of: time.
Time to rest, time to sharpen details—definitely not, as some fans joked, time to throw a party.
All eyes turned to the other side of the bracket. Game 5 between Miami and Chicago was a grind, but LeBron James dragged the Heat across the finish line with a 30-plus triple-double. The pressure shifted squarely to the Bulls.
Watching from New York, Lin Yi shook his head.
“Thibs just won’t budge,” he muttered to an assistant coach, Herb. “The Heat are packing the paint, and he still wants Rose driving every trip. And then Boozer? Come on.”
The staff around him nodded. Even without elite shooters, Chicago had to start launching. Instead, Tom Thibodeau stuck to his trademark defense-first plan, convinced Miami’s perimeter scoring was just as shaky. The flaw, as Lin saw it, was obvious: even if you slow down James and Wade, Miami’s defensive ceiling is higher than yours.
The Knicks’ analysts agreed—everything pointed toward a showdown with the Heat.
Out West, drama unfolded as well. Kobe Bryant gamely fought through injury, but the Mavericks dismissed the Lakers 4-1. If anyone were going to slow Dallas now, it would have to be the Thunder or the ever-gritty Grizzlies. Memphis earned the nickname playoff spoiler for a reason: deliberate pace, bruising intensity, and no fear of reputations.
By May 14, New York had its answer. Back in Miami, the Heat closed out the Chicago Bulls. Derrick Rose walked off in tears, a scene that left Bulls fans gutted.
LeBron exhaled. A seven-game scare against Atlanta in Round 1, another dogfight with Chicago—this postseason had been anything but smooth for Miami. Yet there was no time to bask. He knew who waited next.
The Knicks.
They’d swept Miami 4-0 in the regular season, and while nobody believed those games told the whole story, the memory lingered. Pride demanded a response.
For Lin Yi and the Knicks, the feeling was complicated. Respect for Wade and LeBron’s brilliance, yes, but also the certainty that to prove themselves, they had to go through them.
And for the Heat, the path to a title now ran straight through Madison Square Garden.
The Eastern Conference Finals were set.
