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Chapter 206: Bill George's Big Break
🕑 Added 2025-06-30 15:28:50 +0000 UTCSometimes, doing too much can get you into trouble.
Case in point: Lin Yi.
Faced with a situation he couldn’t solve alone, he turned to the only place that might understand—
The 2009 NBA Draft Group Chat.
Lin Yi:
“Guys, I need help. Three girls asked me to teach them basketball—same day, same time. What do I do?”
Curry:
“…”
Flynn:
“…”
Harden:
“…”
DeRozan:
“…”
Lin Yi:
“Before anyone asks—yes, they’re all them. Scarlett Johansson, Taylor Swift… and a film student I knew back in L.A.”
A moment of silence.
Lin could practically hear everyone collectively facepalming through the screen.
Oddly enough, Harden hadn’t responded.
Lin tapped into his DMs.
Lin Yi:
“Yo, bro, you there? Need a quick tip.”
No response.
He sent another message.
Then checked his messages again.
Blocked?
“What the—”
Grabbing his phone, Lin hit FaceTime.
Harden answered after a moment with his screen black, holding his nose.
“Uh, sorry, this is James Soften, not Harden. He’s out right now.”
“…Really?”
“Yep. Anything I can help you with?”
Lin squinted. “You really think I can’t hear you holding your nose?”
Harden tried not to laugh—and failed.
Lin just shook his head. “Next time we play OKC, don’t act surprised if Chandler guards you like a linebacker.”
...
The Next Morning
It was the Knicks’ off-day, but Lin Yi’s home court was already booked.
Elizabeth Olsen arrived first—no surprise there. She’d been over a few times, already knew the way. Fifteen minutes later, Taylor Swift and Scarlett Johansson pulled up.
Taylor was wearing a Knicks jersey Lin had given her, paired with shorts despite the winter chill.
“I swear you’re gonna catch a cold,” Lin said, handing her a hoodie.
She grinned. “Not before I cross you up. Summer invite still stands, by the way.”
Scarlett showed up in another Knicks jersey, though Lin was certain it had never looked like that when he wore it.
Even Elizabeth paused, suddenly re-evaluating her outfit. Not that she backed down.
“Lin, I brought the dog,” she said, holding up a leash. “Thought we could warm up with a walk later.”
Scarlett stretched. “Can we start with layups?”
Taylor tossed her hair back. “I want a one-on-one tutorial. Just a casual game… to get a feel for it.”
Lin Yi blinked. I survived Boston’s full-court press. I can survive this.
“Alright,” he said with a smile. “Let’s start with ball-handling.”
Inside, chaos masquerading as a basketball lesson ensued.
...
Just outside the villa, a lone figure crouched behind a hedge.
Bill George, local paparazzo and a man who’d staked out Lin Yi’s house for months.
Summer turned to fall. Fall to winter. Twenty reporters had once stood with him, hopeful, hungry.
Now?
Only Bill remained.
All the others had given up, bored by footage of Lin Yi shooting free throws and running solo drills for hours on end.
But today?
Bill adjusted his lens, heart pounding.
Three women. One basketball court. And Lin Yi.
He grinned.
“This… is it.”
Is there something wrong with this guy?
You're an NBA star, Lin Yi.
Can't you give the media anything juicy?
That was the collective frustration of the entertainment reporters stationed outside his house. They waited day and night, hoping for scandal, for gossip, for something. And yet…
Every night, just when they were dozing off, they’d hear sounds—soft thumps, rhythmic squeaks, the occasional grunt.
They’d get excited. Maybe, just maybe, Lin Yi was finally entertaining a guest. A model, maybe. A late-night rendezvous.
They'd ready their cameras, peek over fences…
Only to find Lin Yi at 4 a.m.—on the court, running drills, drenched in sweat, launching three after three.
Shooting.
Basketballs.
Every FUCKING single time!
As the weeks passed, the crowd of reporters dwindled. What began with twenty hopefuls turned into ten, then five.
In the end, only Bill George remained.
A stubborn man with cheap jeans, an outdated lens, and a firm belief: Lin Yi has to slip up sometime.
Even if his jeans hadn’t been washed in days. Even if he now gave off the subtle aroma of old coffee and stress. He refused to leave.
And today?
Today was the payoff.
Bill wiped his eyes. He almost cried. “They said Lin was single… and look at this! I got it!”
Through his telephoto lens, he captured the moment clearly:
Scarlett Johansson, mid-jump, holding a basketball, while Lin Yi lifted her so she could dunk.
A picture-perfect shot.
Bill's jaw dropped. “No way... is that really Scarlett Johansson in a Knicks jersey?!”
Click.
Then he spotted another familiar face—Taylor Swift.
Wearing shorts, a sleeveless jersey, and a smile.
Click.
Then Lin Yi stepped behind her, adjusting her shooting form.
Click.
“Lucky bastard!” Bill muttered under his breath, snapping photos like a madman. “It should have been ME!”
Then he saw another pretty girl, jogging up with a basketball in the other.
Click. Click. Click.
...
One day later.
Manhattan, New York
The Oklahoma City Thunder had just arrived at the team hotel, and Russell Westbrook was already bouncing with energy.
“Man, New York’s insane! OKC feels like a village compared to this.”
Durant nodded, distracted. He wasn’t sightseeing. Tomorrow was a rematch. Knicks vs. Thunder. Lin vs. KD. This time, he had a point to prove.
He’d already told the team: Give me the ball. I’m going-
But before Durant could continue his thoughts, James Harden walked in, grinning, holding up a newspaper.
“Big news! Look at this, Kev,” Harden said.
Durant took the paper, flipped to the front, and saw the headline:
LIN’S LOVE TRIANGLE? KNICKS STAR CAUGHT WITH SWIFT, SCARLETT, AND OLSEN.
Below it:
Scarlett in midair, Taylor mid-laugh, Lin behind them both.
Durant gave a dry chuckle. “James, we are friends and teammates, right?"
Harden blinked. “...Yeah.”
"Good, gonna need your A-game tomorrow."
“Russ.”
Westbrook took the paper next—and immediately froze.
“Yo. Nah. This is war.”
...
Back in New York, MSG tunnel—
Lin Yi was cornered by reporters when heading for training.
“Lin, care to explain the photos?”
“I was just teaching them how to shoot,” Lin said, holding his hands up.
A few reporters raised eyebrows.
“…In full contact?” one muttered.
Lin stayed cool. “The hugs? That’s body alignment. Core balance. Shooting posture.”
“Oh really?” someone scoffed. “Posture on the court or—?”
“Look,” Lin said, sighing. “I’m a good guy. A serious athlete. You have to believe me.”
The tunnel burst into laughter.
What he didn't know was that by the next morning, the photos would go viral, memes would explode, and the Thunder… would be furious.
And somewhere, behind the photos…
Bill George finally smiled.
