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"The Knicks called the timeout first," Kenny Smith said, eyebrows raised.
"Yeah, not surprising," Barkley muttered. "Lin has looked off tonight. D'Antoni will look to use this to tweak some changes."
As the Lakers cheerleaders wrapped up their routine, both teams trotted back onto the court.
Phil Jackson gave D'Antoni a sidelong glance—cool, calculating. He wasn't buying that Mike would crack the Lakers' defense in just a minute or two.
Sure, the Lakers liked to goof off on defense sometimes. But when they got serious, top six defense in the league. Easy.
The game resumed. The Knicks took the ball up... and then something caught everyone's attention.
"Wait—Lin's posting up?" Kenny leaned forward. "Last time he did that was opening night against the Heat."
But Artest ain't Joel Anthony or Haslem, and this isn't Miami. The Lakers had Bynum, Gasol—actual big men ready to rotate and contest. This was a different beast.
"Y'know, we keep forgetting Lin's technically listed as a center," Barkley chuckled.
On the block, Lin Yi called for the ball. Artest stood his ground, this time choosing not to front him. Too risky—Lin's too tall, and Artest's vertical had taken a hit over the years. But what he lacked in bounce, he made up for in strength. Lin wouldn't have an easy time spinning off him for a fadeaway.
The Knicks slowed it down—deliberately. Low-post offense? From New York?
Gallinari, the Second Battalion Commander, lobbed the ball in. Lin caught it cleanly. Zen Master on the sidelines narrowed his eyes. He couldn't quite tell what they were trying to run, but Lin's fundamentals? Solid as hell.
Meanwhile, up in the VIP seats at Staples, Jack Nicholson was sipping whiskey, chatting with a lady friend—until he saw it. His jaw froze before he placed his drink down.
On the court, Lin Yi pivoted. One hand cupping the ball, the body tilting away from Artest. Right arm extended, wrist flicking at full extension—
"Oh my god!" Kenny jumped.
"I haven't seen Lin pull off the skyhook since the NCAA," Barkley said, shaking his head.
A skyhook at Staples.
The older Lakers fans? They recognized it instantly. That was the move—Kareem's move. Jabar's signature. NBA's all-time leading scorer.
No way. No way Lin Yi just pulled that off here.
Fans, analysts—no one could believe it. The use of the skyhook was practically extinct in the NBA. A full-on, sweeping, skyhook. It's damn near impossible to learn. You need length, finesse, and feel. And even then, most bigs opt for a fade or a jumper.
But Lin Yi? Built like Kareem. Soft touch. And as a versatile player, he had that move stashed in the vault.
He just rarely needed it.
Most bigs couldn't even stay in front of him. Why bother with the hook when footwork and jumpers already got the job done? He'd dusted it off occasionally in training, but not once in an NBA game.
Last time he unleashed it? Back in the NCAA.
No team had scouted it. No one saw it coming.
Simple. Artest was leaning his knee into Lin's calf, messing with his balance. Lin couldn't get comfortable backing down or elevating for a jumper.
He remembered how McGrady used to defend Dirk like that, how Chuck Hayes frustrated big men with the same trick.
So Lin went to his trump card.
At 7'2" with that wingspan? It was nigh unblockable.
Right before the timeout, Lin had told D'Antoni, "Coach, if I get post position, let me cook."
And now here he was—cooking.
And it wasn't a fluke.
In the next few possessions, Lin hit three more post shots. He was four-for-five now. Artest couldn't contain him.
So the Lakers adjusted. Doubled hard every time Lin touched the block.
Late in the quarter, Lin had the ball in the post again. Gasol came flying over to help.
Without even looking, Lin flicked a pass behind his head into the paint—
David Lee caught it in stride and laid it in.
"The Knicks' offense is finally clicking. That pass was smooth," Kenny said.
"Lakers gotta make some changes. Lin's feeling himself tonight. Those skyhooks and that pass?" Barkley shook his head. "That's gonna be all over the highlight reels."
First quarter ends: Knicks 30, Lakers 29.
15 points, 5 boards, 2 dimes—in eight minutes.
But Lin doesn't spam the skyhook. It's a rhythm move. He pulls it out when he's hot—and he was scorching tonight.
With four minutes left in the first, Lin sat, giving the second unit a run.
Because the skyhook ain't exactly a low-energy move. You don't spam it unless you're rolling.
And tonight, if the Knicks wanted to steal a win in L.A., they'd need some luck... and a hot-handed big man with old-school tricks.
Lakers fans were still in shock.
The second quarter started, and Phil Jackson made his counter. He threw out Gasol, Odom, Luke Walton, Vujacic, and Farmar. All fresh. He'd rested Gasol just enough.
The Lakers wanted speed and length to help the rotations. No more letting Lin Yi have fun.
But then... the Knicks rolled out their lineup.
Milicic. Jeffries. Gallinari. Chandler. Lin Yi.
Three stretch forwards?
Everyone stared at the court.
"Wait… who's playing point?"
Jordan Farmar looked across the court.
Standing across from him… was Lin Yi.
"...Huh?" Official source is novel-fire.ɴet
The Knicks were doing it.
Lin Yi was playing point guard.
Farmar took the inbound, crossed half court—bam!
Chased down from behind by Lin Yi.
He knew Farmar's whole move set. No change of pace, straight line drive. Too easy.
And sure enough, Lin Yi brought it up.
The 7'2" point guard.
How the hell do you defend this?
Kenny Smith opened his mouth, then closed it. "I… got nothin' but Say the Knicks are bold. Lin playing as a point centre was crazy already, now point guard."
"The Knicks just pulled out a cheat code," Barkley said. "Seven-foot point guard? This feels like a 2K build."
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