GRANDMAESTA_30
patreon
Chapter 233: NBA Eastern Conference Semifinals 3
🕑 Added 2025-07-13 15:45:51 +0000 UTCAt the end of the first half, Lin Yi—who had pretty much thrown the pass button out the window—had already taken 24 shots, hitting 10 of them, and padded his total with free throws and threes. By halftime, he’d already poured in 27 points.
Celtics head coach Doc Rivers had figured out what the Knicks were trying to do, but even knowing that, he didn’t dare mess with his rotations. Garnett had managed to hold Lin Yi to just 41.6% shooting, and in a game this tight, Rivers chose to stick with his core guys.
He didn’t trust the bench to hold the line.
Only three Celtics came off the bench in the first half—Tony Allen, Rasheed Wallace, and Glen Davis. Garnett? He sat for just two minutes. By the break, he was gassed. Arms like jelly, legs wobbly, chest burning.
His 34th birthday was just a few days away, and after a brutal first half like that, it felt like his whole body was running on fumes.
But when Rivers pulled him aside at halftime and told him, “Kevin, we need you,” Garnett didn’t hesitate.
That fire in his blood? Still burning. That edge in his game? Still sharp. Losing to the Knicks’ bold Chinese big man? Not an option.
Pierce, on the other hand, wasn’t feeling quite right. He’d spent the first half dragging through isos and sliding side-to-side, clearly not at his peak. He’d slimmed down over the summer, but there’s no dieting your way out of being 32. The second quarter saw him shoot just 1-for-5—a clear sign of the wear starting to show.
Tonight’s Knicks weren’t just playing ball. They were grinding. Running. Wearing down these veterans, stressing every aching joint, especially the knees.
Lin Yi, for one, thought Rivers was being too cautious. Sure, maybe the Celtics could squeeze out a win tonight, but what about the next game? And the one after that?
Lin was pushing through it, too—but he was young. His body bounced back faster. He was playing free. That feeling of throwing off the shackles and just going for it? Absolute rush.
Coach D’Antoni saw the opportunity and took it. With Lin logging big minutes, he made sure to rotate the others. That way, even when Lin rested—even if it was Lou Williams and the bench crew on the court—the Knicks could still run and wear Boston down.
....
The second half opened under a heavy cloud of tension inside TD Garden.
Celtics fans did their best to lift the home team, while Knicks fans and the devoted Lin fans gripped their seats, praying he’d keep up the pace from the first half.
The game stirred up nostalgia—some fans couldn’t help but remember that night when Iverson led the Sixers to steal one from the Lakers in the Finals.
Before tip-off, critics had labeled the Knicks as not ready and Lin raw. But tonight? Lin Yi was making a lot of people eat their words.
Funny thing was, Lin himself didn’t get it. He’d gone rogue, ditched the pass-first style, and fans were calling him a hero. But when he did try to be a playmaker and get teammates involved, people complained he lacked killer instinct.
Still, even without the assists, he was setting things up. According to the game plan, Lin would play just half the third quarter. That’s when the other Knicks—who’d been saving energy—would come alive.
Basketball is chess. And minutes are moves.
Lin wished he had just a bit more in the tank—he wanted to show old man Garnett what nightmare fuel looked like.
But what Lin didn’t know was that he’d already planted fear in the Celtics. His raw talent was getting under their skin.
Coach Rivers, watching from the sideline, couldn’t help but think: if LeBron stays in Cleveland, it might be the Knicks who are the bigger threat next year.
He made a mental note to talk to Ainge this summer. They needed younger, quicker bigs. Because if Lin Yi levels up again next season, Boston’s days of easy wins might be over.
...
Six minutes into the third quarter, Lin Yi had taken another eight shots, sinking five. By the time he subbed out, he’d already fired up 32 shots in total.
Once Lin hit the bench, Rivers rushed Garnett back in—hoping to stem the tide. But in doing so, he’d fallen into the trap.
Garnett sat, the Knicks went into hack mode, and Rivers was forced to sub in Perkins. That blew open the Celtics’ interior defense.
That’s when the Knicks pounced.
They started raining threes, flying in transition, and breaking down the defense with aggressive drives. Without the inside anchor, the Celtics’ perimeter D crumbled. If not for Ray Allen’s timely threes, the score could’ve gotten out of hand.
Rivers scrambled again—three minutes into the third quarter, Garnett was back on the floor. Tired. Legs shaking. But with Rivers’ words still ringing in his ears, the man pushed through the pain...
Only to get cooked by the Knicks’ sixth man, Lou Williams, who blew by him for an easy bucket.
Garnett screamed, clenched his fists—but no roar could stop the clock or turn back his aging legs.
The Knicks took over the third quarter, extending their lead to around 5–8 points.
Then, in the final two minutes, Pierce stepped up. Once a pure scorer, he’d evolved. He wasn’t as explosive, but his timing was elite.
He rattled off five straight points, dragging the Celtics back into the fight. The third quarter ended in a deadlock: 76–76.
Anyone who watched the first-round series between these teams would never have guessed the Knicks had this kind of toughness in them.
During the break, Barkley chuckled and said,
“You know, the Knicks are something else. Who would've thought they’d be throwing haymakers with the Celtics like this?”
Kenny Smith chimed in from the studio, shaking his head slightly.
“You know, that’s the thing about the Knicks. When they get blown out, people write them off—‘Same old Knicks.’ But then they hang tough with a team like Boston, and you start thinking… maybe, just maybe, they’ve got that championship DNA. They make you believe, even if it’s just an illusion sometimes.”
...
In the fourth quarter, Lin Yi checked back in. That short rest in the third had done wonders—his legs felt fresh again.
Doc Rivers had planned to finally give Garnett a breather early in the fourth, but as soon as he saw Lin heading to the scorer’s table, he sighed and turned to his veteran.
And for Garnett? That trust was everything.
Still sitting with an ice bag on his knees, he ripped it off, smacked himself on the chest three times, and barked loud enough for the whole bench to hear:
“This is our house. We’re the Celtics. Nobody takes this from us!”
The whole team looked fired up. For all the battles they’d been through—Game 7s, overtime wars, grinding series—these guys could’ve folded a long time ago. But they were still here, still fighting, still in love with the game.
Lin Yi, on the other side, felt it too. As much as he liked to crack jokes about the Celtics’ endless motivational speeches, deep down he knew: in moments like this, that kind of talk worked. It hit differently when you loved the game like they all did.
Rivers had already made up his mind. Next game, when Lin sat, Garnett would sit too. He wasn’t about to get out-coached by the Knicks’ clever rotations again. Tonight, the Celtics’ supposed depth had been worn thin, and instead of dictating the pace, they’d been forced to play the Knicks’ run-and-gun game.
Pierce stayed in to start the fourth. Ray Allen waved off the coaches when they asked if he needed a break. And Rondo? He went up to Rivers himself and said, “Coach, leave me in.”
Rivers gathered them during a timeout, looked around the huddle, and growled:
“Look up at those rafters. Seventeen banners. This is what it costs to hang one. It’s never easy—never has been. But we keep pushing through, one possession at a time, until they break before we do.”
The players nodded, fire back in their eyes as they broke the huddle.
On the Knicks’ sideline, D’Antoni was all business, laying out the adjustments in detail.
Nobody minded—because if anyone forgot, Lin would remember.
When D’Antoni finished, Lin grinned and clapped a hand on his coach’s shoulder.
“Coach, that’s it? No pep talk? Nothing to fire us up?”
D’Antoni gave him a sheepish little smile.
“You know me… that’s not my thing.”
Lin smirked, then turned to the rest of the team. He stepped into the middle of the huddle, his voice steady at first, then rising with each word:
“Alright, listen up. Look at those guys. They’ve got banners, they’ve got rings… but they’re running on fumes. Tonight, it’s not about who’s won before—it’s about who wants it more right now. We’ve been running them ragged all game. You feel it? They’re cracking. So don’t stop. Run. Every play, every rebound, every loose ball—make them feel it. Make them wish they never stepped on this court with us. Because tonight… tonight, we show everyone that the Knicks aren’t just here to play. We’re here to win.”
Gallinari piped up from the corner, deadpan:
“Ah… so being single really does give you more energy.”
Lin froze. “…What?”
The whole huddle cracked up, the tension evaporating in an instant. Lin just stood there, expressionless, his hand over his heart like Gallinari had just stabbed him.
If the ref hadn’t been whistling them back onto the court, Lin swore he’d have hit Gallinari with a Def Jam move right then and there.
Because really, Earth just wasn’t big enough for this man’s nonsense.
...
In the fourth quarter, the Knicks’ trademark inconsistency reared its head again. They clanked their way through six straight empty possessions to start the period. If not for the Celtics’ poor shooting night, the Knicks might’ve let this one slip away.
The echo of missed shots reverberated through TD Garden, the iron groaning again and again. It was as if the arena itself was mocking them: clang, clang, clang, like some sad, broken tune.
Then, at the critical moment, Lin Yi took control. He put the pass-first game away again and stepped back into the spotlight. The Celtics’ veterans were running purely on willpower by now. Green-clad fans chanted Garnett, Pierce, and Allen's names with desperation, willing them to rise again.
When Garnett saw Lin now resorting to iso ball, something sank in his chest.
Nearly 40 shots already, almost half the Knicks’ total.
But Lin didn’t care.
“I’m not here to be reasonable,” his eyes seemed to say. “I’m here to win.”
As Lin squared up again, the fans in TD Garden roared:
"DEFENCE! DEFENCE!"
The chant gave Garnett just enough to push through the pain, straighten his back, and plant his feet as Lin approached.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Lin dribbled toward him, and Garnett’s stare was locked, torch-bright. He lunged to cut him off, long legs sliding into position.
But Lin stopped on a dime, impossibly balanced for his size. Garnett’s momentum carried him just enough off-center. He scrambled to recover, refusing to give in.
Then Lin struck, the ball dancing between his hands like it was alive. Left, right, cross—faster, wider, sharper than before. It wasn’t just a move anymore; it was a performance. His crossover had evolved into something almost… cruel.
Garnett’s legs gave way, and he dropped to one knee, bracing himself with his hands. The crowd gasped, hearts breaking for their warrior. But even down, Garnett glared up at Lin, unbroken in spirit.
And still, Lin wasn’t done.
One more shift of his shoulders, one more snap of the ball, and Garnett went down again. The fans in green wailed—but they couldn’t deny the brilliance of what they were seeing.
Charles Barkley stood in the studio, silent at first, then muttered under his breath as he watched: “Man… that’s the answer. That’s the damn answer all over again.”
The sight called back memories of Iverson crossing up Tyronn Lue on the biggest stage. Barkley’s eyes glistened as he saw himself in the moment, watching history unfold, wishing he could be back at the starting line, chasing that feeling all over again.
As Lin rose for the jumper, Kenny Smith couldn’t contain himself:
“Oh my God! Lin Yi just dropped Kevin Garnett! You hear that? To everybody who said he’s no franchise player—if he’s not, then who is?”
...
Even Chinese broadcaster Yu Jia couldn’t hold back, his voice cracking with emotion:
“His form stands like a pine… he moves like lightning, and strikes like a dragon!”
And then, after a pause, Yu Jia added, solemn and proud:
“Fate whispers to the warrior: ‘You cannot withstand the storm.’ The warrior whispers back: ‘I am the storm.’”
As Lin shaped his hands for his sniper celebration, the Celtics faithful could only watch in awe, muttering in their hearts: Showtime, huh.
Lin Yi’s shot was like a dagger to the Celtics' morale.
When Pierce subbed out Garnett, he took one look at him and realized the old man was gassed.
“You good, KG?” Pierce asked, concerned.
Garnett felt like he was suffocating. It wasn’t that Lin had knocked him down or anything dramatic like that, but his legs felt like concrete.
Lin Yi had been going at Garnett all night.
And Garnett? He’d still managed to hold Lin to around 40% shooting, which said everything about how hard he was working on defense.
That’s exactly why Lin Yi didn’t hold back.
The tougher the opponent, the more respect you show by going at them with everything you've got. If the other guy's still standing, you’ve got to keep pushing—no shortcuts, no coasting.
“A true warrior,” Lin muttered to himself. He didn’t understand why people always tried to slander Garnett online. Tonight proved just how elite KG still was. But trolls gonna troll—even if they’ve never stepped on the court.
Lin Yi’s late-game dagger didn’t just hurt the Celtics emotionally—it marked the turning point. Garnett had nothing left in the tank, and if he was at his limit, the other veterans weren’t far behind.
The Knicks weren’t the slow-paced Cavaliers, either. Boston had used their trademark defense to grind the game down, but tonight, it wasn’t enough.
People said the Celtics had an eight-man rotation, but let’s be honest: take Big Baby out of the equation and they were down to seven, with someone like Nate Robinson barely logging impact minutes.
Then Lin Yi caught fire. Gallinari started hitting. Lou Williams brought instant offense. And David Lee—the always-overlooked David Lee—kept delivering quietly and efficiently.
Buzzer.
Final score at TD Garden: Knicks 105, Celtics 94.
A rare sight in the playoffs—the visitors walked away with the win.
“And just like that,” Charles exclaimed, “the Knicks steal one on the road!”
Eastern Conference Semifinals. Celtics vs. Knicks.
Series tied 1-1.
And just like that, New York had snatched back home-court advantage.
Even Coach D’Antoni was a little stunned. The plan had been to wear the Celtics down, then use home energy in Games 3 and 4 to grind it out—maybe push the series to a Game 7.
Nobody expected them to outrun Boston in their own house.
This game was nuts.
Lin Yi attempted 45 shots.
He made 20 of them, including 4-for-9 from deep and a perfect 8-for-8 at the line—final stat line: 52 points, 13 rebounds, 1 assist, 4 blocks, 1 steal.
People couldn’t help but gasp. Was Lin really trying to take 50 shots out there?
Wild.
...
D’Antoni said postgame, “If Lin doesn’t hit that tough shot over Garnett and KG doesn’t knock down that mid-range in response... we might not have pulled this one out.”
And he had a point. According to ESPN’s postgame data, from the moment Lin hit that big shot and Garnett missed the response, the Knicks went on an 11–0 run over the next four minutes.
That’s where the game flipped.
But Lin saw the bigger picture.
Even if Garnett had made that jumper, it wouldn’t have saved Boston. The real issue was that the Celtics’ veterans had hit their physical wall, and the Knicks’ supporting cast stepped up when it mattered.
Sure, Boston wasn’t at their best.
But that’s the beauty of a seven-game series—no excuses. Lin knew the Celtics would bounce back.
They had too much pride not to.
...
After the game, reporters swarmed him.
“Lin, you took 45 shots tonight. What do you say to people calling you not clutch enough?”
Lin smiled. “Kobe told me before the game—if you’re the guy, you’ve got to shoot like it. Be aggressive, be decisive. I was too passive in Game 1.”
The questions kept coming.
“You’re going back to New York with the home-court advantage. Anything to say to Knicks fans?”
Lin said with seriousness. “Death is coming.”
Then he dipped before the reporters could mob him again.
Whatever happens next, one thing’s clear—this series just got a whole lot more interesting.
