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Chapter 141: Magic vs Knicks
🕑 Added 2025-05-23 11:10:58 +0000 UTCThe Knicks were finally home after a brutal road stretch. Twelve wins and four losses so far have them sitting in third place in the East behind the Magic, Hawks, and Celtics.
Magic coach Stan Van Gundy had already been moaning about how packed their schedule. They had played a game more than the Knicks but was neither here or there since the Knicks had come of a brutal set of games in the West. So yeah, imagine the nightmare New York was dealing with.
After back-to-backs like this, Lin Yi had thoughts—plenty of them.
Still, sweeping that three-game West Coast trip had fired up the Knicks fanbase. Hope was contagious. Knicks fans were out here talking titles already.
...
November 29, 2009
Madison Square Garden, New York.
“Tonight’s matchup between Dwight and Lin—Charles, who you got?” Kenny Smith grinned, still trying to redeem himself after that donkey comment.
Barkley wasn’t biting. “Haha, nice try, Kenny. You’re not suckering me into another bet. I think the Magic got the edge tonight. But my boy is a wild card.”
...
It was an NFL off-day, so Giants quarterback Eli Manning pulled up courtside to support Lin again.
Elizabeth Olsen was here too—this time flying solo, no girlfriends or sisters in tow.
Spike Lee? Already dancing on the sidelines. The Knicks were scoring, the vibes were good, and New York’s most animated fan was loving it.
But just before the game, a different kind of energy hit the news.
Charles Oakley, Knicks legend, stirred the pot in an interview, claiming that Lin Yi was wasting his talent, claiming a real center should be living in the low post. And apparently, Oakley thought Lin’s defense was soft. If this were back in his day, Lin wouldn’t even make the cut.
Classic bitter old-head energy.
Honestly, Oakley probably just wanted people to remember him. Happens a lot—retired stars trying to stay relevant by throwing shade at the new blood. Happens to the best of them, and in a few years, it’d be happening to the Warriors too.
The NBA’s always preached respect your elders, but let’s be real: old stars don’t earn more than the young guns anymore, and some just can’t handle that.
But Lin? He wasn’t sweating it. If you couldn’t take a little criticism from the legends, how were you gonna survive the league?
Dolan, though? He was pissed.
Sure, Oakley was a Knicks hero. But throwing mud at the team after you retire? Nah.
And Lin Yi? He was more than just buckets—he brought money, buzz, and pride back to the Garden. New Yorkers weren’t just watching the Knicks; they were talking about the Knicks again. That hadn't happened in years.
Low-post game? Fans didn’t want to see that. They wanted to watch Lin Yi cook.
“Wasting his talent?” Dolan probably wanted to throw Oakley out of the building himself.
And defense? That’s on the league. Stern’s job, not Dolan’s. Let’s not pretend fans buy tickets to watch lockdown defense anyway.
Lin half-joked that Dolan might already be preparing to ban Oakley from MSG. But honestly? Not Lin’s problem. Let them duke it out.
...
“Hey, think Lin keeps his perfect jump ball streak alive tonight?” Kenny asked, grinning at the broadcast desk.
Barkley shrugged. “Tough one.”
As a Lin fan, he knew trying to out jump Superman was a tall order.
...
Starting lineups:
Knicks:
Lin Yi
David Lee
Gallinari
Wilson Chandler
Tony Douglas
Magic:
Dwight Howard
Hedo Turkoglu
Rashard Lewis
Vince Carter
Jameer Nelson
The Knicks were the league’s most trigger-happy team from three, averaging 34 attempts per game. The Magic weren’t far behind with 28.
And while New York had the volume, Orlando had the accuracy.
The Magic ran everything through Dwight in the paint. Turkoglu played point-forward, running sets and setting up the shooters. Nelson and Turkoglu loved running pick-and-rolls, and despite Van Gundy’s reputation as a defensive coach, this Magic squad could score.
Both teams had a plan tonight: no Lin-on-Dwight, no Dwight-on-Lin.
David Lee got the thankless job of guarding Howard.
Lee wasn’t huge, but he was sturdy. Good enough to lean on Dwight and at least slow him down.
New York wasn’t doubling, either. They’d learned from Cleveland’s mistakes in last year’s East Finals. The Cavs kept sending help at Dwight, and it backfired. The shooters got hot, and the Magic torched them.
That series was Dwight’s coronation.
And yeah—he didn’t win three straight DPOYs by accident. During this era, he was a nightmare to deal with.
Lin Yi knew this wouldn’t be easy.
..
Tip-off was quick. And for the first time all season, Lin Yi lost.
Howard flashed a grin.
Sure, jump balls have some luck baked in—depends on the toss, the angle, the height—but this one was textbook. The ref didn’t get much lift on it, and Dwight’s bounce was just too fast.
First blood: Magic.
And Dwight? Yeah, he was feeling himself a little.
The Knicks reset fast, though. Lin slapped hands with David Lee, cracked a half-smile. No big deal.
“Damn,” Tony Douglas muttered as they set up on defense. “That’s the first one you’ve missed, huh?”
“Yeah,” Lin said, still watching Dwight. “Guess he wanted it more.”
To be fair, jump balls always had a bit of randomness to them—it depends on how the ref tosses it. This time? Meh toss. Howard was just quicker off the ground.
Orlando came out aggressive. Nelson pushed the pace, Lewis orchestrated from the wing, and Howard started bullying his way into the post.
Howard posted up, back to the basket. David Lee braced himself, digging in, not backing down an inch.
Rashard Lewis lobbed it in.
Howard caught it clean, took a hard dribble, spun—and launched this wild, discus-style hook.
Clang!
Ball kissed the front iron. Ugly miss.
David Lee had done his job, even if it wasn’t pretty.
Lin Yi snatched the rebound and immediately pushed—eyes up, pace fast. The Knicks wanted to run. But the Magic weren’t slow either. They were already collapsing back into their defensive shell. Lin chuckled.
The Magic’s system was simple—one guy guards the paint (Howard), the other four stretch the floor and dare you to test them. It was designed to shut down teams who have playmakers pushing for dimes like the Knicks. And right now, it was Lewis matched up with Lin Yi.
Lewis had earned his $100 million payday a few years back, with solid two-way seasons. But lately? Kinda coasting.
Still, Van Gundy didn’t need Lewis to lock Lin down. He just needed him to wear him out.
Lin stood just outside the arc, eyeing the defense.
Quick shake of the shoulders.
Lewis bit.
Lin blew past him like he wasn’t there.
Howard rotated over—fast, as always.
But Lin didn’t challenge him head-on. Mid-air, he twisted, switched hands, and flicked his now becoming signature move, behind-the-back pass to David Lee, who had crept into the soft spot at the free-throw line.
Swish.
0-2, Knicks.
Lin jogged back with a grin.
If Lin had gone solo on that one, it might’ve ended ugly.
Howard was annoyed. Lin had dodged the contest, but in the post-game headlines, you just knew the media would hype it up like Lin outsmarted him.
“Man avoids me, and he’s the one getting praised?” Howard muttered under his breath as he ran back.
That didn’t sit right.
Back on offense, the Magic made it a point—feed Dwight. Vince Carter skipped the iso and tossed it straight into the post.
Howard caught it, faked left, spun right—another hook.
Not today.
SMACK!
Lin Yi met him at the apex and swatted it clean out of bounds.
MSG erupted.
“LIN! YI! LIN! YI!”
Brutal block.
Howard’s spin moves were hard to read—credit to him—but if you held your ground and guessed right? You had a shot.
That was the Knicks’ plan all along: let David Lee bang bodies with Dwight, and give Lin the chance to time up the swat.
New York wasn’t just playing for Lin Yi—they were playing with him.
Howard looked stunned. Frustrated. Maybe even a little embarrassed.
“If I’d just taken one more step in…” he grumbled, knowing that one might end up on SportsCenter.
To Lin, though? No big deal.
Man’s in his head too much, he thought.
The truth? One block doesn’t make you the better player. Lin knew that. Back when Yao faced Shaq the first time, he blocked him right out of the gate—but that didn’t make Yao the better center of the two.
Howard was still elite. Still a nightly double-double machine. People would say he fell off later in his career, but Lin didn’t buy it.
Howard didn’t get worse.
The game just changed.
It wasn’t about who you used to be. It was about how long you could keep up.
