The Flash, Dwayne Wade was played like a man possessed in the first half—19 shots, 11 makes, 28 points.
And yet… the Heat were still down by 14. What the hell?
During halftime, Pat Riley stormed into the locker room like a man on fire. First thing he did? Slammed the door shut with a bang. Second? Smashed the TV with the remote. And just for good measure, he yanked off his suit and hurled one straight at the tactical board.
Every Heat player froze. Nobody dared move. They all waited, scared stiff that they'd be the next target of Riley's volcanic rage. Coach Spoelstra? Dude might as well have been invisible.
Then came the speech. A loud, blood-pumping, fire-and-brimstone kind of rant. Riley called out everyone, especially Wade, demanding they fight like men.
Now, that's a loaded phrase. What's Wade supposed to do, hold a press conference and pick a fight with the whole Knicks' locker room just to prove his manhood?
Hell nah.
...
SECOND HALF.
Back on the court, Lin Yi pulled Gallinari aside.
"Look, they're gonna stick to you like glue. Don't freak out. If you get inside and it gets physical with no passing options, just toss the ball up at the basket and throw your hands up like it hurt. Scream if you have to—they'll blow the whistle. Trust me."
"No problem." Gallinari grinned, pumped up. "It will not get to that. Beasley? Please. That guy's mid at best. I'm just as strong, if not stronger. He's lunch."
The dude had swagger now. He'd figured it out: if you roll with Lin Yi, you're in good hands.
"I'll keep moving to create space for you," Lin Yi added, already thinking ahead.
In the first half, Lin Yi had already cracked the Heat's interior defense. Shaq was too slow, Joel Anthony and Haslem were undersized. They just couldn't keep up.
The Heat looked like they were getting torched from three, but the real damage? It was Lin Yi. He broke their defense from the inside out.
He knew the truth—this Knicks team wasn't exactly stacked. If they didn't grab games like this, especially against contenders, they'd get stomped in the playoffs.
The East was weak, sure. But that meant every single game counted.
For Lin Yi, making the playoffs wasn't just about competing. It was about making a statement. These Knicks were bad. If he could carry them to the playoffs, it would mean way more than just padding stats.
Hell, even LeBron couldn't take the Cavs to the playoffs in his first year.
New York was known for being a mess. But if Lin Yi could flip the script with barely any roster changes? His name would be etched in gold.
And here's the thing: D'Antoni wasn't some scrub coach—he knew how to run an offense. Lin Yi didn't have to score 40 a night. He just had to be Lin Yi.
He wasn't just putting up numbers—he was reviving D'Antoni's run-and-gun system, bringing life back to a city that had lost hope.
But Lin Yi's goals went deeper. He remembered how New York had fumbled the bag in the past—signing injury-prone Stoudemire, letting David Lee walk.
David Lee wasn't flashy, but he was efficient. Stoudemire? Without Phoenix's doctors, he was a ticking time bomb.
And the trade for Carmelo Anthony? Lin Yi wasn't gonna let that disaster happen. Melo was a black hole on offense, and bringing him in would kill their cap space and sink any chance of building a real contender.
Lin Yi had done his homework. He knew New York still had the Clippers' 2011 draft pick—one that, in his timeline, turned into Kyrie Irving for the Cavs thanks to a lucky bounce. Even if they didn't land the #1 pick, 2011's draft was stacked.
Guys like Klay Thompson, Kawhi Leonard, and Jimmy Butler—all within reach.
He'd already made up his mind: no big-name super teams, no joining forces with stars just for clout. If he was gonna build a dynasty, it'd be from the ground up.
Like the Warriors did in 2015. No shortcuts. Just smart picks, hard work, and trust in the system.
That's why every win mattered. If he could take this Knicks team to the playoffs, management would have to think twice before gambling away the future again. Especially with his close ties to Javier Stanford, Lin Yi could start pulling strings from the inside.
Once in the playoffs, New York would be forced to admit: This guy is the real deal.
Then, he could reshape the team from top to bottom.
A respected coach. A smart GM. Talented young core. Add in Lin Yi's basketball IQ and foresight?
Easy money.
So yeah, Lin Yi wasn't out here to chase Jordan's ghost or drop 50 every night just to say "I'm him."
He was building something bigger.
And when the foundation was set, and the team was ready? Sure, he'd flex. Triple-doubles? Efficient stat lines? Let 'em come.
He knew who he was.
The future face of the NBA.
As the game continued, the Knicks shifted their offense to Gallinari.
Beasley couldn't guard a cone, and it showed. He wasn't saving energy for offense or playing some big-brain defensive scheme.
He just sucked.
Beasley was the classic empty-stats guy. Even without the weed stuff, he was never gonna be an All-Star.
He didn't belong in the big games.
Wade was frustrated. Gallinari had peeled the mask off Beasley's whole game—and now Wade was stuck trying to clean up the mess.
Pat Riley finally realized: managing an NBA team wasn't just about cutting stars' salaries and swinging trades. It was about getting the right people for the right price.
On the sidelines, D'Antoni smiled. Gallinari's dad had been his old friend, and he'd taken heat for drafting the kid last year.
Now? No one was questioning it.
Gallo was the truth.
....
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