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Chapter 390: Aiming For A Sweep
🕑 Added 2025-10-10 22:21:08 +0000 UTCIn early August, negotiations between the players’ union and the league resumed, only to collapse once again.
NBA Commissioner David Stern soon addressed the media, warning that if talks didn’t progress soon, the preseason would be officially canceled.
The tension in the league was growing by the day.
Some players began exploring options overseas, while cracks started forming inside the players’ union itself.
Some wanted to hold firm and protect every inch of their financial interests, and others felt it was better to compromise before the entire season slipped away.
…
On August 3rd, Lin Yi landed in China. The first thing he did wasn’t a press conference or a brand event—it was heading home.
His parents were in good health, smiling as always, and as usual, their biggest concern wasn’t basketball, but his well-being.
They asked about his girlfriend, Olsen, though. His mother, in particular, was clearly curious.
“When are you bringing her home?” she teased, smiling knowingly.
Lin Yi promised he would next time.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel a bit of regret. His parents had never shown much interest in life abroad—they didn’t care about the NBA lifestyle, the fame, or the money. All they cared about was whether their son was eating well and staying healthy.
He sighed inwardly. Parents were the same everywhere—quietly selfless.
He made a mental note: when his playing days were over, he’d take them traveling, just to make up for all the time he’d spent away.
Between career and family, there was never an easy balance. Behind every player’s million-dollar contract were countless sacrifices that few ever saw.
So, Lin Yi postponed his China tour by a few days, choosing instead to spend that time taking his parents on a proper trip.
…
When the first event of his China tour kicked off on August 10th, the atmosphere was electric.
Yao Ming had jokingly warned him before, “You’ve topped the Forbes China Celebrity List two years in a row, you know. Don’t be shocked when you see the crowd.”
Lin Yi had laughed at the time, but when he saw it for himself, even he was stunned.
The venue was packed wall to wall. Everywhere he looked, fans were waving signs and wearing Knicks No. 44 jerseys—some real, some knockoffs, but all filled with the same passion.
When the host handed him the mic and asked for a dunk, the building erupted.
“MVP! MVP! MVP!”
The chant thundered across the arena. The sound was so loud it startled O’Neal, Curry, and Klay standing courtside.
Even Shaq shook his head in disbelief. “Man… not even three Kobes could pull a crowd like this.”
…
Over the next few days, Lin Yi found himself not just in fan events but in the middle of a lighthearted war between Curry and Klay.
The two were inseparable but constantly bickering about one thing: shooting.
Every day, Lin Yi would catch them at it again—
“You call that a jumper?” Curry would say after hitting one in Klay’s face.
Klay fired back instantly. “You? You’re just an undersized guard with confidence issues.”
Sometimes they’d shoot for hours, taking turns trash-talking between jumpers.
The score usually ended slightly in Steph's favor, but Klay never admitted defeat.
Watching them, Lin Yi couldn’t help but smile.
The Splash Brothers, he thought to himself. Guess I broke them up before they even started.
A small pang of guilt hit him—because deep down, he knew just how special that pairing could have been in history.
…
The tour rolled on, and it was a huge success.
Chinese fans were thrilled—not just because of Lin Yi’s presence, but because O’Neal, Curry, and Klay all threw themselves into it too.
Shaq, especially, was having the time of his life. Retirement suited him. He ate everything in sight, smiled for every camera, and joked with every fan.
One afternoon, Lin Yi walked into the hotel room and immediately smelled roast duck.
“O’Neal,” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, “you’re going to eat Beijing out of business.”
Shaq grinned, unwrapping another takeaway box.
Lin Yi could only laugh. “I should just send you to Shanghai to join Kobe. At least he’ll make you run before you eat.”
(Kobe, coincidentally, was hosting his own event in Shanghai at the time.)
..
Klay, meanwhile, had been making an effort to learn some Mandarin phrases—and it worked quite well.
Fans adored him. Every time he greeted them in halting Mandarin, the crowd went wild.
For a rookie, it was a surreal experience—his first real taste of global stardom.
And Curry?
Always one of the people’s favorites. When they visited a Hope Primary School on their itinerary, he wore a huge smile while interacting with the children. He also took photos with the children.
The sight of the NBA sharpshooter surrounded by laughing kids was quietly heartwarming.
Even Lin Yi had to admit—it felt good to see basketball do that.
...
By mid-August, Tencent’s much-hyped basketball variety show, This Is Basketball, officially began filming.
Basketball fever was sweeping through China, and Tencent, sensing the opportunity, wanted to capitalize. Their goal was clear: stir up public excitement while paving the way to secure long-term NBA broadcasting rights.
The show had been Lin Yi’s idea from the start. After seeing countless sports programs overseas, he’d tossed out a few creative suggestions—ideas that Tencent’s production team quickly turned into a workable plan.
Filming wouldn’t take long. The show’s purpose was simple: discover young Chinese basketball talent, inspire more people to get active, and keep the national passion for basketball alive.
But Lin Yi had one non-negotiable condition.
Under his insistence, Tencent Sports introduced a massive student discount—70% off their regular subscription.
“Tencent’s fees are ridiculous,” Lin Yi had complained during negotiations. “I was a student once. I know how that feels.”
He wasn’t about to let the next generation of fans get priced out of the game.
…
On the show, Lin Yi teamed up with Klay, while O’Neal paired with Curry. The mentors would guide their players through one-on-one, three-on-three, and various skill challenges, eventually selecting three finalists who’d earn an invitation to Lin Yi’s personal training camp.
What Lin Yi didn’t expect was the arrival of some familiar faces—Guo Ailun, Ding Yanyuhang, and Zhou Qi all showed up to register as contestants.
The moment he saw them, Lin Yi could only stare at the sky helplessly.
“Seriously? This is supposed to be a variety show, not the national team tryouts,” he muttered.
It wasn’t exactly fair to the college and amateur players who’d signed up, but with mentors like Lin Yi and O’Neal, the temptation was too strong. Everyone wanted in.
Still, seeing the three young prospects in person sparked another thought in Lin Yi’s mind—maybe it was time to help cultivate the next generation for China’s national team.
The fans’ passion had moved him deeply since his return home. For Lin Yi, this wasn’t about fame or contracts—it was about giving something back to the people who cheered him on through everything.
And Lin Yi didn’t want any butterfly effect if there was any from his presence to change history.
To keep things on track—and to strengthen Chinese basketball—he reached out to the Basketball Association through Yao Ming, suggesting they send younger players like Guo Ailun, Ding Yanyuhang, and Zhou Qi to the upcoming Asian Championship.
The response was immediate and blunt: a firm no.
“Are you kidding?” one of the officials said. “The tournament also serves as an Olympic qualifier! What if we lose? None of us wants to be blamed for that.”
Their plan was conservative: stick with the veterans—Wang Zhizhi, Yi Jianlian, and the rest—and play it safe.
When Yao Ming heard this, he calmly set down his cup of tea and said, “Lin’s already agreed to come back for the Asian Championship.”
That single sentence changed everything.
Suddenly, the same officials who’d been so dismissive were nodding furiously.
“Right, right! The national team needs fresh blood. It’s time for a transition between generations!”
“Guo Ailun, Ding Yanyuhang, Zhou Qi—they’re all good kids. We should give them a shot!”
The turnaround was almost comical.
Lin Yi’s name carried that much weight now—NBA champion, two-time All-NBA selection, and MVP.
Bringing him back to play for China was like strapping a nuclear reactor onto the team bus.
Yao Ming couldn’t help but shake his head. He’d known exactly how this would go.
And secretly, Yao was thrilled too. With Lin on the roster, he finally had a chance to share the floor with the best teammate he could ever ask for before retirement.
…
Filming for This Is Basketball wrapped up on August 27th.
O’Neal, Curry, and Klay soon flew back to the U.S.—Shaq, excited to dive into his new life as an NBA analyst; Curry, heading off on his honeymoon with Ayesha before joining training in L.A.; and Klay, planning to train solo for a while.
Before parting, Lin Yi patted Klay on the shoulder.
“The plans have changed. Once you’re back in New York, keep working on your shooting rhythm. And don’t slack on defense,” he said with a grin.
Klay rolled his eyes but agreed with a mock salute. “Yeah, yeah, Coach Lin.”
…
On the 28th, Lin Yi brought Guo Ailun, Ding Yanyuhang, and Zhou Qi to report to the national team.
Their arrival caused quite a stir. The three had dominated This Is Basketball, completely wrecking the show’s suspense. Most of the amateur players realized just how enormous the gap was between professionals and everyone else.
The show, set to air in October with six episodes in total, didn’t need any marketing gimmicks—it was bound to be a hit.
At this point, Lin Yi could barely walk down the street without drawing a crowd. People didn’t even need to see his face; they recognized him instantly just from his height.
“So,” Lin Yi said with a confident smile as he looked toward the upcoming tournament, “let’s make this simple. The Asian Championship—we sweep it.”
