SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE, HAD EXAMS.
Yao Ming scratched his head, staring at the court.
"Man... unbelievable," he muttered to himself.
If only Lin Yi had shown up a few years earlier. Or if they'd discovered him back in the Beijing Olympics… what a difference that could've made.
Now Yao was itching to play again—just once, with Lin.
The kid was legit. Smooth handles. And that speed? As fast as the rumors said, maybe even faster.
Meanwhile, Barkley was still trying to figure out the right words to describe Lin's insane move a few seconds ago.
Before he could, Kenny Smith beat him to the mic.
"That was sick!" Smith shouted.
Right after Lin's highlight, Blake Griffin answered back—broke Lin down with a crossover, then launched into a ridiculous one-armed tomahawk over Anthony Beasley.
If Lin was elegance and finesse, Blake was all raw power.
"This kid's gonna be a regular on the NBA Top 5 plays if he keeps this up," Smith said, already locking in his vote.
After dunking, Blake gave Lin a look.
Lin just grinned and shot one back.
On the sideline, Yao was getting flashbacks—his first game against Shaq.
Yeah, Lin had that same fire.
In American hoops culture, trash talk and showdowns are the norm.
If you don't clap back, they treat you like lunch.
Back on the floor, Lin took a step back three.
Curry, without even looking, threw his hands up.
"BOOM! Bucket!" Barkley yelled.
"Did you see that release? Textbook stuff. All in the wrist."
Then the Griffins answered right back—Taylor lobbed it, Blake detonated it.
"Lawd have mercy!" Smith exploded.
"That's not a dunk, that's a war crime!"
But Lin wasn't done. He ran a pick-and-roll with Steph, popped out, and splashed a clean two.
Blake kept pushing—missed his first, grabbed two boards, and then finished strong again.
Barkley and Smith both paused, glanced at each other, and said at the same time:
"Whoever's got the number one pick this year… man, good luck."
If it's between Thabeet and Griffin, it's an easy choice.
But Griffin vs. Lin Yi? That's gonna haunt some front offices.
Lin dropped 35. Griffin? 40. Both were gassed.
Jeff Capel called timeout, trying to refuel his squad with some last words of fire.
What no one expected?
That last stretch… would turn into war.
Steph Curry caught fire. Five for five from deep. But his total? 21. Discover more novels at N0velFire.ɴet
Truth is, Steph chose to feed Lin. Gave up touches. Didn't care about stats.
He knew his ceiling in the draft because of his playstyle and size. Knew Lin had a shot at #1.
So when Lin caught fire, Steph played sidekick—no ego involved.
But when Lin hit the wall, Curry stepped in.
2:21 left—Steph with the steal, quick pull-up three. Tie game.
1:12—another bomb from the top. Davidson is up three.
With just 12 seconds left, Griffin bullied into the paint, got fouled on a spin, and.
Free throw? Good. Tie game. 71–71.
The last shot went to Lin. He crossed up, pulled up from midrange... Brick.
Yao Ming leaned forward in his seat, eyes locked.
This was a different kind of college ball. This was NBA-level drama.
Bodies were dropping. Everyone was tired. No fast breaks. Just half-court sets, broken plays, raw energy.
Curry found Lin on a backdoor cut—two points.
Blake answered with a baseline fadeaway.
Lin came back. Step-through in the paint. Bucket.
Griffin missed but cleaned his shot.
Then, with 14 seconds left, Lin drove hard, drew the double, and kicked it to Curry.
Open look. Clean release.
Griffin had one last look, but Lin blocked it at the rim.
FINAL SCORE: Davidson 78, Oklahoma 75.
Lin Yi: 39 points, 10 rebounds, 4 blocks.
Blake Griffin: 44 points, 14 boards.
Stephen Curry: 30 points, 10 assists, 8 threes.
Southern Conference champs.
Davidson had done it.
As soon as the buzzer sounded, he jumped on Lin's back.
"Lin! Go get your finals trophy, man! You earned it!"
Lin felt a little guilty. He'd kinda stolen Steph's MVP moment.
Maybe this was why guys like Durant would later take pay cuts just to play with him.
Curry had that magic—his game, sure—but more than that, his personality. He didn't need to be the center. He just wanted to win.
That's why people like Klay, Draymond… even KD followed him.
Why Durant once said, "This is Steph's team."
Curry wasn't loud. But his influence? Loud as hell.
The Wildcats lifted the Southern Conference trophy.
The crowd went crazy.
Barkley summed it up best:
"Now they're headed into March Madness… will they make waves, or get washed up? We'll see."
Griffin stood off to the side, holding his MVP trophy, but looking… empty.
Coach Capel tried to cheer him up, saying they still had a shot at a wild card spot.
But Blake just nodded and said to Lin:
No hard feelings. Just a quiet fire.
"See you in the NBA."
Curry pounced on Lin again.
"C'mon, bro, let's celebrate!"
As they left the court, Lin made sure to get Yao Ming's number. They promised to catch up later.
Somewhere in the crowd, Presti, Durant, and Westbrook were already walking out.
Durant was dreaming about summer workouts.
He was thinking about triple-doubles.
And in a quiet corner of the gym, an old man was murmuring to himself...
"Stephen Curry… Stephen Curry..."
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