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Chapter 410: Knicks vs Grizzlies 2
🕑 Added 2025-10-20 16:00:35 +0000 UTCWhen Lin Yi dropped his 12th point of the night, Grizzlies head coach Lionel Hollins hesitated on the sideline — should he send the double?
He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head. The Lin Yi Rule was clear: don’t let Lin Yi get his teammates going.
Hollins didn’t believe Lin Yi could keep up this pace all night, not with the Grizzlies’ twin towers — Marc Gasol and Randolph— locking down the paint.
Unfortunately for him, Hollins had bet wrong.
Swish!
Another three. Lin Yi finished the first quarter with 15 points before heading to the bench. He’d taken nine shots already — if the Grizzlies hadn’t slowed the tempo to a crawl, he’d probably have taken a few more.
Klay handed him a towel. Lin Yi sat down, wiping off sweat as he watched Paul fight through a rough stretch.
CP3 finally hit a jumper over Conley — on his third try.
It wasn’t just bad luck; Conley’s defense was relentless.
Lin Yi chuckled quietly to himself. Sure, he’d joked before about wanting his teammates to get clamped so he could take over, but even he could tell the Grizzlies had come prepared tonight. They weren’t here to play nice — they were here to send a message.
It’s gonna be a grind tonight, he thought.
Marc Gasol had come a long way since last season. Lin Yi had planned to train with him over the summer but never managed to.
In the NBA, the loud, flashy defenders aren’t the real threat. The scary ones are the quiet types — the guys who just know where you’re going before you do.
Marc wasn’t chasing blocks; he was controlling space, forcing bad angles, and grabbing boards like it was clockwork.
By the end of the first quarter, the Knicks were up 24–23 — a far cry from their usual 117 points per game pace.
The Grizzlies had successfully dragged them into the mud, grinding the tempo down until only Lin Yi seemed unaffected.
In the second quarter, the Knicks rolled out a new lineup: Whiteside, Motiejūnas, Lin Yi, Klay, and Billups.
Memphis responded with Marc Gasol, Speights, Pondexter, Mayo, and Pargo.
Speights drew the short straw — guarding Lin Yi.
He had the size to hold his ground, but his feet were a step too slow. Hollins didn’t care about that. His instructions were simple: “Hit him every possession. Make him feel you.”
Speights did exactly that. Lin Yi still scored on him three straight times, but he could feel the contact — every shove, every bump. The big guy wasn’t backing down.
Marc Gasol was smart about it, too. He only came to help when Speights was still within reach. If Lin Yi completely lost him, Marc would just… look the other way.
Marc had no desire to be on the next poster.
Say what you want, but after Pau Gasol had been dunked on so many times in recent years, his highlight reel was starting to rival Duncan’s — from the wrong end.
To him, playing floor defense in the NBA wasn’t cowardice; it was strategy. You step back, you read, you survive longer.
Halfway through the second quarter, the game was still tight. Lin Yi was enjoying himself, but the Knicks couldn’t pull away.
Both teams began to bring their starters back in. Hollins kept O.J. Mayo on the floor — he needed someone who could actually stretch the defense.
Mayo still looked like a star, but at this stage, that’s all it was — the look. If not for his jumper, Hollins probably wouldn’t even keep him in the rotation.
Once Randolph checked back in, Marc finally got some breathing room.
On the Knicks’ side, D’Antoni left Motiejūnas out there. From the bench, Markieff Morris watched in disbelief — the same Motiejūnas he bullied in practice was suddenly holding his own against Randolph.
But that’s basketball. Styles make fights. Motiejūnas still had the weight to absorb contact, and since he barely jumped anyway, Randolph’s pump fakes did absolutely nothing.
Sometimes, being grounded had its advantages.
.
On the court, Lin Yi buried another three from deep. The first half wasn’t even over, and he was already sitting on 31 points.
“Lin Yi is absolutely on fire tonight! Zhang, do you think there’s a chance he breaks fifty?” Yu Jia’s voice carried both excitement and disbelief.
A triple-double was nice, sure—but this was the NBA, a scorer’s league. And who wouldn’t want to see their country’s star drop a big number on the board?
Zhang chuckled. “Honestly, I think he’s got a real shot. The Knicks haven’t pulled away yet, so Lin Yi will probably be out there until the fourth quarter.”
Fans watching at home were losing it. Tonight’s opponent was the Grizzlies—a team known for their defense. Lin Yi’s previous 60-point explosions had come against the Nets and Cavaliers, and critics had downplayed those performances as empty stats.
But if he torched the Grizzlies tonight? That’d shut everyone up.
If Lin Yi could hear their chatter, he’d probably give them a big thumbs-up.
As for the supposed mismatch or favorable matchup, Lin Yi would never admit that. His only thought right now was simple: keep scoring.
By halftime, the Knicks led 52–49. Lin Yi had 35 points to his name.
Even neutral viewers had to respect it now. That’s what leadership looked like: when teammates were in rhythm, he facilitated; when they struggled, he took over.
Unfortunately, the one person who’d see through him—Shaquille O’Neal—was commentating on another game tonight. Otherwise, Shaq would’ve said, “Step up? Nah, this kid just found a team that can’t guard him and went for the kill.”
In truth, it was Lin Yi’s teammates who were showing selflessness. They ran the floor tirelessly in the first half, no complaints at all.
That was part of Lin Yi’s charm—his sense of timing and people skills. He’d been sharing the ball a lot in recent games, so the coaches had no problem asking him to go full throttle tonight. It wasn’t selfish—it was strategy.
Lin Yi never fought battles he couldn’t win. Against a team that everyone else feared, but he didn’t? If he didn’t go all out now, was he supposed to save his misses for when he actually met Wall?
During halftime, the main concern wasn’t the scoreboard—it was Lin Yi’s stamina. January’s schedule was brutal, and D’Antoni, who had built a rotation obsession from last season, didn’t want to burn his star out.
“Coach, don’t worry. I’ve been shooting jumpers all half. Legs are fine,” Lin Yi said with a grin. He wasn’t the type to force things. His rhythm felt good, his energy management even better. He’d already made up his mind—tonight, he was going for 60.
To save energy for offense, he hadn’t crashed the glass much. Tyson Chandler had cleaned up 8 rebounds in the first half alone. Mutual benefit—that’s what Lin Yi called it.
And with Chris Paul racking up assists, there wasn’t much room for complaints about Lin Yi dominating the ball.
Of course, Lin Yi sweetened things a bit—he’d promised the team a little fried chicken treat.
He’d waited long enough for a night like this. No way he was letting it go to waste.
