GRANDMAESTA_30
patreon
Chapter 131: Knicks vs Lakers
🕑 Added 2025-05-18 14:10:07 +0000 UTC“Here we go! Game’s live—Lin wins the tip again,” Kenny Smith said on TNT.
That’s 14 straight jump ball wins for Lin Yi. The guy was on a streak.
Bynum, who just lost yet another jump ball, wasn’t exactly thrilled. Meanwhile, Lin Yi was already sprinting down the court—and what did he see?
The Lakers were throwing Artest on him.
“You gotta be kidding me…” Lin muttered, glancing back like he’d just spotted a bounty hunter.
Look down, stay calm.
Artest? Seriously? The guy was a walking elbow. Lin Yi thanked the basketball gods that the NBA banned WWE-style moves. Otherwise, he might’ve needed a trip to the eye clinic after the game, to see if he’d awakened the Sharingan, too much trauma.
Over on the sideline, Knicks coach Mike D’Antoni shot Phil Jackson a surprised look. This was a first. Teams had switched wings and tried a few forwards on Lin before—LeBron when they played the Cavs, Bobby Simmons once with the Nets—but never opened a game this boldly.
“That’s gutsy from L.A.,” Kenny Smith said. “Artest on Lin? That’s a weird matchup.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s a mismatch,” Barkley chimed in, “but Artest is still one of the toughest defenders in the league. I kinda like it.”
Back on the court, Tony Douglas handed the ball off to Lin Yi. Artest shuffled in front, clearly slower than his younger days. Lin didn’t hesitate—he called for the pick.
David Lee stepped up to screen, with Bynum guarding him. Artest couldn’t get around the pick and ran face-first into the wall that was Lee. That left Lin Yi wide open.
But before he could fire his shot, he was basically tackled by Artest.
Whistle!
Foul.
Artest threw up his arms, looking completely betrayed. “Come on, ref!”
Good thing the ref wasn’t Joey Crawford.
The Knicks couldn’t convert, though—Lin kicked it out to Harrington, but Pau Gasol got a hand on the shot.
Bynum snatched the board. Drew was hyped tonight.
And just like that, the Lakers ran their first possession—a textbook triangle set, with Gasol playing high.
Kobe took the first shot for L.A.
Pump. Rise. Hang. Release.
Pure art.
0-2, Lakers.
Back the other way, Lin Yi didn’t bother calling for a screen this time. He curled off-ball, caught a slick pass from Douglas at the 45-degree mark, and rose.
Staples went quiet.
Jump. Hang. Splash.
3-2. Knicks lead.
Artest stuck to him like glue, but Lin was just too long, too smooth. Artest knew he had to cut off Lin’s catches—no way he could let this guy get into rhythm.
And just like that, Kobe answered.
Dribble. Stop. Launch from deep.
Splash. 3-5.
He pointed at Lin, tapped his chest.
“Looks like we got ourselves a duel,” Kenny Smith said.
“Maybe Kobe knows Lin’s a fan,” Barkley added, with a hint of bitterness. “Trying to prove Lin's faith in him isn't wrong."
Barkley still hadn’t forgiven that game. Kobe only took three shots in the second half.
Despite Barkley’s bias, he was secretly rooting for the Knicks. Anything to take down the Lakers.
Next Knicks possession, Artest was still draped all over Lin. Douglas adjusted—he hit Gallinari instead.
SBG was feeling himself this season. He backed Kobe down in the post. Kobe played solid D, but Gallinari had height. It wasn’t pretty, but the turnaround dropped.
5-5.
On the Lakers’ bench, Phil Jackson nodded. Artest wasn’t shutting Lin down, but he was wearing him out—and that was enough. If he could just slow Lin, that might tilt things.
Lin knew what Phil was up to. He wasn’t blind to it.
He thought. Trying to tire and mentally frustrate me to go cold? We’re screwed.
Kobe with the rock, hit a crossover to a jumper.
Third shot of the night—smooth, elegant…
Clank.
Rebound: David Lee.
He pushed it up court quickly. Lin Yi took off on the break—Artest grabbed him mid-air.
Whistle. Free throws coming.
Lin glanced over. He didn't like the guy. Now? Even more so.
Artest never played clean. Elbows. Hugs. Cheap stuff.
Lin remembered Harden getting elbowed into another dimension.
Tonight? Artest was slick. He grabbed Lin right as he was landing, just enough to avoid a foul.
It wasn’t blatant, but it wasn’t clean either.
Lin sank both free throws.
7-5. Knicks back in front.
He locked eyes with D’Antoni as he jogged back. Lakers tied it up on the next play.
7-7.
Timeout, Knicks.
People said the Knicks didn’t care about road games. That they weren’t under pressure.
Yeah right. D’Antoni wanted this win badly. He just knew the Lakers were a different beast.
After grinding seasons and constant tweaking, the Lakers were finally peaking. Gasol made Jackson’s triangle sing.
The Knicks didn’t have a stopper like Tony Allen. They weren’t shutting down Kobe. Their best shot? Shrink the paint, hope the shooters missed.
Even Vujacic, the one dating Sharapova in Lin’s memory, was a threat.
D’Antoni could throw out a pseudo-zone. Maybe buy time. But none of it mattered if Lin got shut down.
This Knicks team ran on Lin. No Lin, no engine.
D’Antoni rubbed his temples.
Then Lin Yi stepped up, all limbs and calm confidence.
“Coach, I’ve got an idea.”
He looked D’Antoni straight in the eye. Game face on.
