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Chapter 350: Mavericks vs Knicks End
🕑 Added 2025-09-20 14:26:40 +0000 UTCMavericks head coach Rick Carlisle had no interest in turning a late-season matchup with the Knicks into a war of attrition.
For him, the real fuel is the playoffs; that’s when you empty the tank.
So when the third quarter had barely settled, Carlisle made his call. Dirk Nowitzki was summoned to the bench.
Dirk didn’t argue. He gave a small nod, a trace of reluctance flickering across his face, but he understood the logic. At this stage of his career, he knew the bigger picture mattered more than a single night’s box score. Carlisle wasn’t worried about the headlines or the social-media chatter that would follow. Let the fans grumble—he’d rather take the heat than burn out his franchise cornerstone before April.
Even if Dallas had stolen the win, the Spurs still held the higher seed. Better to save their legs than chase a hollow victory.
Mike D’Antoni, spotting Carlisle’s white flag, followed suit. The Knicks were already stretching the lead, so he slowly rotated out his own stars, Lin Yi among them.
Final horn: Mavericks 107, Knicks 119. A statement win that halted New York’s brief two-game skid and kept them perched atop the league standings.
The stat sheet still sparkled.
Nowitzki: 30 points, 7 boards, 2 assists in 29 minutes.
Lin Yi: 32 points, 12 rebounds, 5 dimes in 33.
The Garden crowd loved it, though many left wishing they’d seen a full-on duel between the two marquee scorers.
The victory brought welcome news in the locker room. Danilo Gallinari—sidetracked for weeks by a rib-cartilage fracture—was officially day-to-day. One green light from the medical staff and he’d slide back into the rotation.
Shaun Livingston’s recovery was ahead of schedule as well, easing any worry that veteran guard Stephon Marbury might eat into his minutes.
Marbury laughed off the idea. “When the team’s goals come first,” he said with a shrug, “personal stuff doesn’t matter.”
Owner James Dolan marked the moment with a team dinner. Even he seemed a little dazed by the season’s trajectory: a roster that had been flirting with luxury-tax panic back in October now leading the entire NBA.
Across the table, general manager Donnie Walsh chatted easily with Marbury, both men grinning like they’d survived a long storm. Walsh, who might collect a second straight Executive of the Year award, knew how rare it was to be praised while barely needing to lift a finger.
“You take the bows when you can,” he joked quietly, “and if the flak comes later, well, that’s the job.”
Lin Yi caught up with his old friend Javier Stanford, who had been buried in draft research based on Lin’s scouting tips. Stanford trusted Lin’s eye implicitly—recent picks had already proved him right.
Before the night ended, Dolan pulled a few executives aside. “For a player like Lin,” he said, half tipsy, half grinning, “I’d pay fifty million a year if that’s what it takes.”
The front-office staff exchanged knowing looks. They’d seen this before: the quieter Dolan kept his excitement, the bigger the splash when it finally broke loose.
He left them with simple marching orders for the stretch run: protect the brand, manage the PR, and give the players everything they need.
“Logistics, support, whatever it takes,” he said. “That’s how we can help.”
The Knicks enjoyed a rare off-day on the 20th. Lin Yi stayed home and taught Tijana and Olsen how to play the Chinese card game Landlord. Their laughter echoed through the apartment as each penalty round meant a doodled mustache or a lopsided smiley face on someone’s cheek.
Sakazuki, who wandered in mid-afternoon, took one look at the scene, wagged his tail in disappointment seeing his favourite humans busy, and ducked back out to play a few rounds of Wiggles Ball, his obsession.
He watched his weighty friend, hamster, waddle across the floor. He would occasionally pass Wiggles between his paws for entertainment. He had to help his friend shed a few stones.
…
Game day arrived again on the 21st: Utah Jazz at Madison Square Garden.
The Jazz were in full rebuild. Gordon Hayward, once the poised floor general of tiny Butler University, finally had the green light to start. Scouts loved his composure and that sneaky-quick first step—rare among white forwards. Everyone remembered Butler’s near-miracle March Madness run, when Hayward’s half-court heave in the title game came within inches of dethroning Duke.
During warm-ups, Lin Yi noticed Hayward’s reaction time had jumped to gamer-level sharpness—he joked to a teammate that Hayward was an e-sports prodigy accidentally drafted into the NBA.
The two had even teamed up online once: Hayward carrying as the lethal ADC, Lin playing support, and devouring a pizza mid-match, laughing as Hayward racked up 27 kills.
The Knicks handled business, rolling past the retooling Jazz with ease.
Afterward, Hayward caught Lin near the tunnel. “Lin, you’ve got to show me some of those training tricks. I heard guys who work out with you level up fast.”
Lin grinned. “Deal. But only if you queue up with me for a few games first. Strength in numbers, right?”
Hayward laughed, already imagining the late-night scrims. For Lin, it was another win—on the court, and maybe on the server too.
...
On March 23, the Knicks wrapped up their regular season matchup against the Bulls at Chicago’s United Center, and they did it in style. Derrick Rose came in brimming with confidence after a strong showing in the previous game, but this time, Chauncey Billups was waiting with a veteran’s touch.
Billups shadowed Rose, bumping him off angles, steering him into help. Rose still attacked the lane with that explosive first step, yet his jumper betrayed him. New York never gave the Bulls room to breathe and cruised to a 119–91 win. They finished the year 3–1 against Chicago, with a clear upper hand.
For Rose, the loss stung. Chicago fans had been buzzing about a late-season surge, whispering about a revival. But Rose knew better.
Is it really a revival if you can’t beat the best and chase a title?
The Eastern Conference picture was simple: Miami and New York stood as the Bulls’ true obstacles. Chicago had managed a regular-season edge over the Heat, but the Knicks were another matter entirely.
It wasn’t that Rose lacked confidence—far from it. It was a deeper, gnawing feeling, a quiet recognition of the mountain still to climb. He figured LeBron James would understand that sensation, too.
Meanwhile, Lin Yi’s numbers kept climbing into rarefied air. After weeks of steady, efficient play, his season shooting line settled at 50.2 percent from the field, 41.7 percent from deep, and a sparkling 95.4 percent at the free-throw stripe.
That officially placed him back in the elite 180 club, and if he held those marks through the finish, he’d become only the third player—after Larry Bird and Steve Nash—to post back-to-back 180 seasons. Among active players, only Nash could claim more appearances in that statistical stratosphere.
