O'Neal's always had a large personality—big guy, big heart, big laughs. He loves putting on a show, whether it's for the fans or just for fun.
But right now? Watching Lin Yi's handle get faster and flashier with every bounce? Nah, Shaq wasn't smiling anymore.
The man who once made NBA bigs cry, who'd battled legends like Olajuwon and come out grinning... yeah, even he was starting to sweat a little.
"How the hell do I guard this dude?" Shaq thought. "These knees aren't what they used to be."
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Right joystick ↘ ↓ ↘ ↓
Left joystick ← →
Acceleration+ Right joystick ↑
Lin Yi shook Shaq left, right, and left again—those hands were just a blur.
The Madison Square Garden floor might've groaned under O'Neal's feet as he scrambled to stay upright. But Lin? He slipped through like an eel.
Wake up! I am Shaquille O'Neal! Not... freaking Dalembert! Diesel thought.
Lin was approaching the rim with a burst of speed. Varejao stepped up to contest.
Two defenders coming in hot—Shaq trying to recover, Varejao closing in.
Some fans shut their eyes.
Too brutal.
Too fast.
No way Lin gets out of this clean, right?
Wrong.
Lin pivoted with that signature calm, spun the other way—and just like that, O'Neal and Varejao collided mid-air like two dudes trying to hug at a wedding gone wrong.
Could Varejao survive Shaq's full-body slam?!
Doesn't matter.
Lin hit the hook shot. Easy money.
Lin gave Shaq a cheeky wink on his way back down the court.
Yu Jia exploded. "Oh my GOD! Lin absolutely cooked Shaq and Varejao. Both of them would want to forget that. Damn!"
Zhang nodded. "So smooth. His hands are slippery as hell. Shaq just ain't what he used to be."
But they weren't clowning Shaq. Not really.
Lin's move wasn't just a flex. It was a tribute to him. The Chinese giant before him. The one who faced a prime Shaq without backing down. The one who fought tooth and nail just to survive in this league.
They forget: there was once a man who carried the weight of an entire country, one battle at a time.
Averaging 20 and 10 in the NBA.
...
Next play, Cavaliers ball.
O'Neal was heated. Dude was grumpy now, stomping toward the low post. He might be older, maybe a step slower, but that pride? Still fiery as hell.
LeBron saw the big fella fuming and fed him the rock. Gotta keep the big man happy.
The Cavs weren't fast, but they were steady. Mike Brown never liked playing fast anyway.
Shaq caught it on the block. Bump. Bump.
Wait, that wasn't Lin on him. It was David Lee.
Big mistake.
O'Neal snorted like a bull, shoved Lee twice, powered through, and hammered it home with a two-handed jam.
Tie game, 2–2.
He puffed up his chest, ready to let out a roar—
But David Lee? Already peeling off toward the baseline like nothing happened.
Shaq then noticed the fast break and tried to speed up.
Too late.
The Knicks were gone.
Fast break initiated. Transition in full swing.
New York never planned to guard Shaq in the post.
Let him eat.
We're running.
You want 2? Cool.
We'll take 3.
D'Antoni? Smiling. He had time to rest his starters after this game. He didn't have to micromanage like he was still coaching the Bobcats.
Full throttle. That's the plan.
Larry Hughes fired a pinpoint pass. Lin didn't even hesitate—pull-up three.
Splash!
2-5.
Lin's hand had been hot the last few games. The jump shots were flowing.
Yu Jia: "Cavs too slow! Knicks hit 'em with a fast break three—classic D'Antoni style!"
Zhang Reason: "Shaq can't keep up. Knicks are smart. You defend us? Cool. We'll just run it back faster. Cavs play good D—but they can't keep pace."
MSG roared.
Spin moves, step backs, splash city.
Lin Yi was electric.
Somewhere in the crowd, a young Knicks fan—decked out in a brand new No. 44 Lin Yi jersey—jumped up, screaming, "Showtime Lin"
His dad, standing behind him, sighed happily.
He had to go through some trouble to get these tickets.
Ah well. Fatherly love, right?
....
Back on the court, the Cavs came at the Knicks again.
This time, LeBron did the work—quick crossover, easy layup.
4-5.
But on D? O'Neal still looked winded. Not built for this track meet pace.
Lin Yi found himself matched up against Mo Williams in transition.
Five-on-four.
Lin didn't even hesitate. No chance he was letting LeBron swoop in to pull off one of those guard two guys at once hero plays.
Clang!
Missed the three—but that wasn't the point.
No frustration. Knicks hustled back.
O'Neal? Huffing just to cross half-court.
Yu Jia laughed. "They're running Shaq out of the gym."
Zhang added, "Lin waited for Shaq to jog back before pulling up. That's no coincidence."
Yu Jia: "Right, if Shaq doesn't come back, Lin passes. If he does? Lin makes him work for it."
Zhang: "Doesn't even matter if he scores. It's a war of attrition."
On the sidelines, LeBron glanced at Mike Brown.
This ain't gonna work.
Mike Brown got the message. But who the hell was going to guard Lin Yi?
He looked toward Big Z on the bench.
Big Z immediately turned and started chatting with his teammates: "Hey, did you guys know Taylor Swift just dropped a new song?"
Bruh.
That obvious?
When did you become a Swiftie?
Mike Brown groaned.
...
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