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Chapter 260: Knicks vs Heat 2
🕑 Added 2025-07-25 14:19:00 +0000 UTCIn the second quarter, the Heat rolled out a lineup of LeBron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, Mike Miller, and Joel Anthony.
Lin Yi glanced at the court. So this is Miami’s game plan?
Mike Miller could shoot, no doubt about that. But as far as Lin was concerned, letting Lou Williams stick to him was enough. Miller was a solid spot-up shooter, sure—but he wasn’t some volume scorer who could take over a game.
As for Miami’s transition game? That wasn’t scaring anyone either. The Knicks weren’t lacking for energy off the bench. Running back on defense wasn’t a problem.
Still, James was James. Early in the second, he baited Danny Green and dished a slick assist off a drive, pushing the score to 24–13. That was already his sixth point of the night.
Livingston slowed things down for the Knicks, bringing the ball past halfcourt before handing it off to Lou. After a pick-and-roll with O’Neal, Lou accelerated and easily lost Miller. Joel Anthony stepped in to contest, but… well, his size just wasn’t enough to bother Lou in the paint.
Spoelstra noticed the issue right away. Just as he was about to sub in Big Z, one of his assistants leaned over.
"Coach, how about we try 'Hack-a-Shaq'?"
Spo raised an eyebrow. "Hack Shaq already?"
It was a tempting idea. Instead of bringing in Big Z, they decided to see how much value Joel Anthony could squeeze out of the tactic.
Back on the floor, James tried to take over again. Danny Green didn’t bite this time. Instead of challenging James head-on, he sagged back just enough to dare him into a jumper—without giving up the drive.
James hesitated… then launched a contested pull-up.
The shot? Way off.
Clang!
O’Neal pulled down the rebound and immediately started the break. The Knicks bench couldn’t help but laugh.
“Shaq, you sure you can still run?” someone shouted.
O’Neal flashed a grin and rumbled upcourt.
Next possession, the Knicks went straight to him in the post. Joel Anthony tried to hold his ground, although Shaq was as agile as before, he had the weight and experience. One spin, a little bump, and Anthony had no choice but to wrap him up.
“Even at 37, Shaq’s still a force down low,” Kenny Smith said.
Barkley added, “He’s been cutting back on snacks, but he’s still Big Diesel.”
The whistle blew—a shooting foul. O’Neal to the line. The crowd at American Airlines Arena erupted in boos… but strangely, the Knicks players were grinning.
Weren’t these guys supposed to be his teammates?
The truth was, the jeering didn’t bother Shaq at all. Lin Yi had pulled him aside earlier with a laugh:
“Don’t worry, even if you miss a hundred, no one’s gonna blame you. Just draw fouls and wear ‘em down.”
Shaq wasn’t trying to prove anything. He was here to absorb fouls, hit bodies, and maybe drop in a hook or two.
With that relaxed mindset… swish. First free throw in.
Then the second—swish again!
Kenny Smith and Barkley couldn’t believe it.
“My God, Shaq hit two?” Kenny laughed.
Shaq raised his arms and shrugged toward the bench like, What’d I tell you?
Spoelstra scratched his head. So much for the 'Hack-a-Shaq' plan...
Meanwhile, Wade answered on the other end with a strong drive past Livingston. But something felt off. Since when did the Knicks get this tough on defense?
Livingston wasn’t a flashy defender, but his added strength this season made a difference. He didn’t reach, didn’t overcommit. His long arms were a constant threat, and he used his size well to keep ball-handlers uncomfortable.
On offense, the Knicks continued to control the tempo. Lou was just about to pull up when Livingston called for the ball.
That was one of the perks of having Shaun on the second unit—he knew when to calm things down.
Lin Yi watched from the bench, nodding.
Tony Allen, sitting nearby, added, “You know, Shaun was a crazy dunker in high school.”
Lin nodded, slightly wistful. “Yeah... shame about the injury. But he’s still here. That counts for something.”
Livingston took the ball and backed Wade down. He wasn’t overpowering him—just reading the defender, shoulder fake, then a smooth turnaround jumper.
Swish.
Livingston clenched his fist. He didn’t regret the changes from the summer—the extra weight, the subtle shift in role. This version of him could do more than just pass. He could score when the team needed him to.
Everyone on the squad had seen him drill that move in practice again and again.
Score: 30–17.
Spoelstra looked frustrated.
And things didn’t get better.
James tried to take Green off the dribble. He got past him with a forceful stride—but O’Neal was already waiting.
Shaq rose and swatted the shot away.
Even Miami fans weren’t sure how to react. After all, this guy had helped them win a title once. But now?
Now he was punishing his former team.
James and Wade exchanged glances, shaking their heads. How did Shaq look this energized?
Kenny couldn’t help himself.
“The Knicks really are something else,” he said. “Livingston—people thought he was done. Tony Allen—written off as just a defender. Danny Green—cut by Cleveland. Shaq—washed, they said.”
He paused.
“But look at ‘em now. All of ‘em thriving in New York."
Barkley quipped ruining the solemn moment.
It's gotta be that NYC water. Hits different."
Kenny turned to his partner with a raised eyebrow before bursting into laughter.
...
The Heat were starting to lose their cool. LeBron even went for a dry three—something he rarely relies on—just to try to cut the deficit.
By the time Lin Yi checked back in, the Knicks were up 39–24.
Inside American Airlines Arena, Heat fans were restless. Most of them had walked into the building expecting an easy win. After all, they had LeBron, Wade, and Bosh. Who could stop them?
Well, the Knicks.
No one saw it coming. The pundits didn’t. Vegas didn’t. Not even the Heat themselves.
But when Lin Yi returned to the court, a nervous ripple swept through the stands.
In the second half of the second quarter, the Knicks rolled out a lineup of Tyson Chandler, Lin Yi, Gallinari, Tony Allen, and Lou Williams.
On the other end, Spoelstra switched things up—Big Z and James Jones came in, with Wade taking over point guard duties.
Spoelstra thought he saw an opening. In his eyes, the Knicks had a defensive weak link on the floor.
What he didn’t expect… was Lou Williams locking in.
Okay, locking in might be generous—Lou wasn't exactly clamping anyone up. But he kept up with James Jones just enough to mess with the passing lanes. And Jones? He was a stationary shooter. He needed space.
Meanwhile, with Shaq on the bench and Tyson Chandler back on the floor, the Knicks’ paint protection returned to fortress mode. The Tyson–Lin duo was a nightmare for any team that relied on penetration.
Tall, long, and quick laterally—they weren’t just athletic freaks; they were disciplined. Tough to draw fouls on. Tough to shake off.
Lin Yi was loving every second of it. With Chandler behind him, he could gamble, switch, rotate—knowing someone had his back.
Then came Bosh’s moment.
The big man wanted to assert himself. He got the ball and tried to go to work.
Bad idea.
Lin Yi sent back two of Bosh’s shots in a row—clean, loud, and disrespectful.
Just a year ago, Bosh had been Lin Yi’s kryptonite when the Raptors swept the Knicks. But this Heat version of Bosh? A little hesitant. A little lost.
Next possession, Bosh tried again. Lin didn’t even let him finish the move.
Later on, Lin Yi stayed outside the arc, stringing together some tight dribbles. The Limitless Range badge lit up in his mind.
But he felt it. That rare trigger.
Cross, step back—way behind the three-point line. Ridiculous distance.
Bosh, trying to recover, rushed him. Lin Yi rose and launched the shot right into Bosh’s contest.
Whistle.
Foul.
And then… swish.
Nothing but net.
Bosh stood there, hands up like a man just pulled over for speeding.
“I fouled him... and he hit it?”
James and Wade couldn’t believe it either.
On TV, even the Heat fans had to shake their heads. Lin Yi looked like he was playing NBA Street Vol. 2.
Meanwhile, Knicks fans around the world were on their feet.
"This is our guy!" someone yelled from the bleachers.
Barkley was losing it on commentary.
“What more do you want from the man? What more?!”
“It’s showtime! It’s Showtime!” Kenny Smith echoed.
At the free-throw line, Lin Yi looked calm. Poised. The spotlight belonged to him, not the so-called Big Three.
LeBron? Frustrated. Not defeated—but rattled.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. The harder he pushed, the more the Knicks widened the gap.
By halftime, the Heat had managed just 31 points. The Knicks? 54.
A 23-point lead in Miami.
And the scariest part wasn’t the score—it was how they got there.
Lin Yi had 29 points at the break. Shot 11 of 24. He hit two of five threes. But he went a perfect 7-of-7 from the line.
Stat line aside, to Knicks fans, he was nothing short of a superhero.
Lin Yi knew better. He had the spotlight, sure—but the real MVPs were the guys behind him. The defense-first dawgs.
