Popovich never found an answer for Lin Yi that night.
The Spurs and the Knicks traded blows for four full quarters, neither side giving an inch. But in the closing minutes of the fourth, Paul took control. He shifted cleanly into isolation, then buried two tough, off-balance threes right over Butler. That was the moment Popovich understood it. The Spurs had run out of momentum.
124 to 113, the Knicks held home court and secured Game 1.
Lin Yi delivered a dominant performance, going 18-of-27 from the field, 5-of-6 from beyond the arc, and a perfect 6-of-6 at the line. He finished with 47 points, 11 rebounds, 4 assists, and 2 blocks, leading all scorers with authority.
He was not alone. The rest of the Knicks showed up, too.
Paul kept his shots limited, finishing 5-of-6 from the field, 3-of-3 from deep, and 2-of-2 at the line for 15 points and 8 assists.
Most of his scoring came late. When the game tightened, he made the right reads and picked his moments. His control of tempo and decision-making reflected exactly what a point guard is expected to be in the Finals.
Yao Ming added 18 points and 5 rebounds on 7-of-11 shooting, including a rare three-pointer. It was his first Finals appearance, and for many Chinese fans watching, it carried weight beyond the game itself. They knew opportunities like this were limited. The hope was simple: win it all, and close the chapter the right way.
McGrady, also in his first Finals, embraced a different role. He waved his towel, passed out water and Gatorade bottles, and stayed engaged every second. By the end, he had jokingly logged a double-doublein support stats, earning laughs as the unofficial morale leader of the night.
Not everyone met the standard.
Klay struggled, shooting 2-of-10 and finishing as the only Knicks player below 50 percent from the field. After the game, his father, Mychal Thompson, said when asked bout his son's performance, "Klay still has a long way to go. He's a bit too overeager tonight."
Klay's response was quiet but clear. He tossed his father's Game 2 ticket into the trash.
"Better off watching from home," he muttered, though the truth was simpler. Having his father in the building had gotten into his head more than he expected.
It did not matter. Mychal had already accepted a TNT invitation and would be courtside anyway, this time with a microphone alongside Barkley, O'Neal, and Kenny Smith.
After the game, Popovich spoke about both teams. He believed the Spurs had played their best basketball of the playoffs, yet it still was not enough.
"To beat them, we need more than this," he said. "Maybe we need a miracle."
The frustration showed, even if some fans took it at face value.
When asked about Lin Yi, Popovich was direct. "I think Lin is a better player than LeBron."
The quote spread quickly and drew strong reactions. Many took it as a straight comparison, but that was not quite what Popovich meant. He was not talking about raw individual ability. In his view, Lin Yi, within this Knicks setup, was something close to uncontainable.
That said, there was one detail that bothered him.
After Game 1, Popovich could not see much of a system at all. Isolation, hard screens, then pace, more pace, and constant pressure. It looked simple, almost crude, yet it worked.
That was what irritated him most.
If he had a player like Lin Yi, he believed he could control the league for another twenty years, even from his grave.
On the other side, D'Antoni handled the postgame questions with ease. When asked if his reputation had been inflated because of Lin Yi, he did not hesitate.
"Yes," he said, smiling. "With this team, even O'Neal as a coach could win a title."
Success had changed him. He no longer carried the same tension or second-guessing from earlier in his career. The outside opinions did not matter much anymore.
In his own words, simple and blunt, if he could coach Lin Yi, that was enough. The rest could argue all they wanted.
…
After taking Game 1 of the Finals, the Knicks felt the pressure ease a little.
Game 2 was set for June 9. After one full battle, both teams had a clear read on each other. Lin Yi knew the Spurs would respond. Popovich was not the type to stand still, and before the series even began, Lin Yi had already prepared himself for a long fight that could stretch to seven games.
During training on the 7th, Lin Yi, acting as the team's on-court leader, reminded everyone to stay sharp. The media coverage had tilted heavily toward the Knicks, and that kind of noise could get into a locker room.
To be fair, even he almost bought into it after watching the highlights the night before.
Some outlets had already started throwing him in the mix for the greatest of all time.
"These people… they're finally telling the truth," Lin Yi jokingly thought, quietly satisfied.
Still, no one on the team dared to relax openly. The moment anyone showed signs of complacency, Lin Yi would step in. At most, they kept their excitement to themselves.
Dolan had learned his timing. He waited until Lin Yi finished speaking before entering the gym to show support. Anyone walking in late might have thought Lin Yi was the one running the franchise.
…
On the 8th, members of the 2009 Draft Class Group Chat began arriving in New York one after another.
Lin Yi did not expect Blake Griffin to show up in person.
The moment Griffin got off the plane, he pulled Lin Yi into a tight hug. "You were right. Who needs women? Basketball is everything."
He looked like he had been through a storm.
Griffin went on a long rant about his ex, clearly not in a good place.
It said something about the league. Surviving that level of off-court distraction required a certain kind of focus.
Griffin's path had shifted. Staying around Lin Yi had kept him grounded, and now, with everything boiling over, that frustration might finally turn into something useful on the court.
That night, Harden, Curry, DeRozan, and Lin Yi stayed with him.
Harden tried to lift the mood. "Forget all that. I'll take you out tonight."
Griffin shook his head. "No. I'm done with that. Lin, you need a training partner?"
There was a sharp edge in his voice. The anger was real, just not aimed at anyone in the room.
Right now, he wanted one thing.
Work and more work.
He wanted to pour everything into basketball and prove a point, the only way that mattered.
Harden leaned back, clearly frustrated.
Coming to New York and not going out made no sense to him.
DeRozan had already settled down after marrying Morrison, and the nightlife was no longer part of his routine.
Curry had never been interested in that scene to begin with.
That left Harden alone.
With no one willing to join him, he headed out by himself, determined to take on New York's nightlife solo and come back as if nothing had happened.
. . .
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