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Chapter 268: Knicks vs Cavaliers 2
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 15:30:27 +0000 UTCWith 7:13 left in the first quarter, the Cavaliers called a timeout.
"Byron, we can't let the Knicks keep rolling like this," assistant coach Presley said to Byron Scott, leaning in. "We need to clamp down on Lin. Now."
The game had barely crossed the five-minute mark, yet Lin Yi had already dished out 5 assists. The Knicks, playing on the road, were already up by 19 points. At this pace, Presley worried they could hit 50 before the quarter ended.
Scott, usually stubborn, surprised his staff. "Alright. Let's try it. Make it tough on him," he said, nodding at Presley's suggestion.
"It’s fun to watch Lin play," said Kenny Smith on the broadcast. "He makes everyone around him better. In the latest players’ poll, Lin ranked fifth among the toughest guys to guard."
"If they’d asked about bigs, he might be number one," Barkley added with a chuckle.
And Barkley had a point. Guards and wings didn’t know what it was like to deal with Lin’s combination of height, footwork, and vision.
Even during Knicks practices, O’Neal had once refused to guard Lin one-on-one.
Coming out of the timeout, the Knicks were the first to make a sub. Stephenson checked in for Livingston. They had possession.
Lin looked up and noticed something strange. The Cavs weren’t doubling him anymore—just trying to defend straight up. Alright then.
Time to switch gears.
Lin waved off the screen and drove into the paint. He elevated smoothly and laid it in with both hands. The move was simple, graceful, and left the Cleveland crowd momentarily stunned.
Coach Scott wasn’t pleased. Lin had just scored his first field goal of the night, but that wasn’t the problem. Hickson’s defense on him was subpar.
"Ryan!" Scott called out. Hollins stood up.
Hollins had a reputation—and not the good kind. He once elbowed a vet out of a game, nearly cracked Dragic’s ribs in a scuffle, and was only still in the league because his size came with a side of menace.
When Jamison drew a foul and hit two free throws, Ryan Hollins checked in.
From the moment they lined up, Hollins was in Lin’s space. Tugs on the jersey, leaning on his knee, pushing off the ball. Subtle, dirty, intentional.
The Knicks saw it. They were ready to storm the court, but Lin Yi? Still calm.
He didn’t retaliate. Just asked for the ball.
Time to teach a lesson.
Hollins crouched low, arms wide, eyes locked on Lin’s midsection. But Lin had other plans.
He faked left. Hollins bit.
Spin move.
Right-hand dribble, behind the back, crossover.
Hollins twisted around, trying to keep up, but his foot slipped. He stumbled—nearly rolled his ankle.
Lin was already gone.
"Lin Yi broke him like a toy," Barkley shouted from the TNT studio.
The spell had been cast.
Lin soared past the defense and flipped in a soft layup. By the time he turned around, Hollins was still on the floor.
The ref blew the whistle. Play stopped. Hollins had to be helped off, limping toward the locker room.
The fans roared.
The slow-motion replay showed everything—Hollins grabbing, pulling, pushing. And then Lin, calm as ever, turned it all into a highlight reel.
Shaq, watching, nodded in approval. "I like that, not as powerful as me, but still dominant. That’s how you shut someone down."
The Knicks' bench was alive.
"He’s cold, man," Ewing Jr. muttered. "Dude’s stone cold."
...
Back in the locker room, Hollins sat on the treatment table, wincing as the team physio checked his ankle.
On the wall-mounted TV, the game continued.
He watched in silence, jaw tight, as Lin Yi dropped another smooth jumper over Hickson.
A staff wandered by, phone in hand. “Yo, Ryan… you’re trending.”
Hollins squinted. “What?”
“Man, you got clipped hard. It’s all over Twitter. People are calling it the ‘Ankle-Breaker Baptism.’”
“…You serious?”
The staff nodded, holding up the screen. “Thousands of clicks. Already.”
Hollins groaned. He wanted to be angry. But mostly, he just felt embarrassed.
...
On the court, Lin Yi was heating up.
The Knicks’ offense shifted into cruise control—swing passes, off-ball screens, and Lin’s command at the helm. Every possession ran through him, and the Cavaliers looked lost.
After a high pick from Chandler, Lin faked the drive, then stepped back from 30 feet.
Hickson lunged, too late.
Swish.
The net barely moved.
The arena erupted—not just the Knicks fans in the crowd, but even some Cleveland locals, stunned by the audacity.
“Stop it!” Kenny Smith said. “This isn’t fair.”
“That’s from way downtown,” Barkley added. “You might as well guard him from the parking lot.”
Coach Scott slammed his clipboard down and barked for another timeout.
He shot a glare at his assistant. “Presley, this was your idea, right?”
Presley held his hands up. “You said try something different…”
Scott shook his head and sighed. “Next time, remind me to ignore you.”
As the broadcast cut to commercial, Lin strolled back to the bench, high-fiving teammates along the way. D’Antoni clapped him on the back.
“You’re feelin’ it?”
Lin nodded. “They’re giving me space. I’ll take it.”
