"Man, I never get tired of watching this guy play," Presti muttered, eyes locked on Lin Yi. Every possession, every move — he was dialed in.
This big man was special.
Ibaka had already caught Presti's attention with his defense and shooting. But Lin Yi? If he and Ibaka were on the same team… that'd be a championship frontcourt waiting to happen.
On the bench, Kevin Durant was also in deep thought too.
As for Westbrook? He didn't care much for Lin Yi — not yet. In his eyes, power and muscle ruled. That soft-looking Chinese kid? Nah. ᴛhis chapter is ᴜpdated by novel{f}ire.net
But back on the court, Lin Yi and Blake Griffin were putting on a show.
Both teams, the Wildcats and Sooners, were trading buckets.
"Oh my God..." Barkley suddenly yelled.
Lin Yi had just pulled off a ridiculous reverse baseline layup.
"What a ridiculous move by the big man!" Barkley said.
Yao Ming clapped from the sidelines, smiling. Lin Yi reminded him of Wang Zhizhi, only faster. That kind of fluidity and balance — it was rare. A gift.
Still, Blake Griffin wasn't far behind. The guy's athleticism was unreal. One dunk after another.
"Oh my God…" Barkley shouted again as Curry sank a no-look three.
"Somebody stop these three freaks already. Lin, Curry, Blake — it's just unfair!"
Griffin's raw explosiveness, Lin Yi's handle and speed at his size, and Curry's impossible shot-making — they were electric.
These teams were familiar with each other. Old rivals. They knew — if you can't stop them, just outscore them.
Most fans still backed Griffin. The Wildcats had Curry and Lin Yi, sure, but outside of them, the talent gap showed. Griffin's brother Taylor and teammates were solid, but Blake was carrying the Sooners.
Lin and Curry were cooking, but they couldn't build a lead. The simple reason — their teammates couldn't keep up. Basketball's still a team effort.
The Sooners could get buckets. The Wildcats had to work harder for theirs.
Yao Ming, meanwhile, felt like his worldview was being flipped.
In the NBA, it was always "gain weight, gain weight" — he'd heard it a thousand times to battle Shaq.
But Lin Yi's style? If defenders couldn't stay in front of you, why bulk up?
What Lin could become in the NBA… who knew?
Maybe more Chinese players should come through the NCAA, Yao thought. The league might not be at NBA level, but it built skill.
After the break, it was back to fireworks.
"Lin's efficient," Barkley said.
"But Blake's carrying more weight," Smith replied. "Lin's benefitting from Curry and the spacing."
Scouts in the stands were torn. If you had to pick one, who would you take?
Stephen Curry drilled another three. The baby-faced assassin was hot.
A Knicks scout on the sideline clapped hard. Maybe he had something to do with Curry's big night.
After the shot, Steph gave Lin a quick butt slap. "If you're tired, take a breather and let me handle it!"
Lin grinned. He was tired.
Blake Griffin's defense was no joke. The guy was playing like he'd taken a secret dose of something.
He hadn't slowed down at all.
Then Blake turned around and scored again.
Anthony Beasley couldn't contain him. Coach McKillop didn't want Lin Yi guarding Blake too early — wanted to conserve his energy.
But Blake? He was guarding Lin.
That's what made NBA-caliber players terrifying.
Lin thought to himself, If my All-Around badge is silver now, I need to lean on my skills to make up for my physical limits.
He knew Blake hadn't hit his peak yet.
"How's he gonna answer?" Presti wondered aloud.
Would Lin trust Curry? Or take it himself?
This moment might decide it all.
Show me what you've got, Presti thought.
Lin Yi caught the ball on the wing.
Gave Curry a quick hand signal — clear out.
Curry didn't flinch. Just smiled. Lin was going for it.
In America, you don't run from moments. You own them.
Quick first step. Explosive burst.
Blake stayed with him.
"Only Blake can stay in front of this kid in the NCAA," Barkley said.
Wait — Lin crossed behind the back.
Hesitation. Pause. Smooth.
Then came the rhythm dribble through the legs, back and forth.
So clean. Kobe-esque.
Blake reached — but Lin's eyes were too calm. He sold the shot.
Then — boom. He drove.
He hadn't lifted yet. No travel. Ref didn't call anything.
He surged into the paint.
Every move was subtle. Every second mattered.
Tyler Griffin stepped up — too late.
Lin answered Blake's earlier dunk with one of his own.
Before the crowd even reacted — he got right in Blake's face.
No words. Just that look.
I'm not backing down.
Barkley grinned. He liked this guy more and more.
"Is he a Jordan?" Presti whispered to himself.
He'd worked hard to balance Westbrook and Durant's roles. If Lin had the same alpha mindset, would he clash too?
But deep down, Presti respected Lin's call.
That choice — that mentality — was its own kind of talent.
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