Lucas Oil Stadium, Indianapolis.
Home of the Colts. But today? This ain't football. It's March Madness, and the Red vs. Blue showdown is about to go off.
North Carolina is in blue.
One of the most iconic color clashes in sports history.
And just like that, the stadium looked split in half — one side roaring red, the other a sea of Carolina blue.
This was the game. The one everyone had been hyping up. Miss it? Might have to wait for some time for anything like it again.
The broadcast crew wasn't wasting time either — the cameras were already cutting to the VIP section, showing off the heavy hitters in the crowd.
Vince Carter was here — rocking huge sunglasses and all. Dude looked like he was ready to drop a mixtape. But today, he was backing UNC. Carter's North Carolina through and through.
From the press box, Wu Xiaolei blinked like she was covering the NBA All-Star Game.
"Kobe, LeBron, Wade… wait, is that Yao? Yi Jianlian too?"
Sun Yue was in the building. All three Chinese NBA players were here. Wu's head was spinning.
Then, the crowd exploded as the cameras caught the legend.
Michael. Freakin'. Jordan. This text is hosted at novelFirｅ.net
He was grinning, pounding his chest, waving at the fans like it was '96 all over again.
Qi Jun, sitting next to Wu, leaned in like a kid at his first concert.
"Sis Xiaolei, this feels like Slam Dunk come to life!"
Wu laughed. "What? You comparing this to Shohoku vs Sannoh now?"
"Well, think about it — if Davidson's like Shohoku, then UNC's the reigning champs."
"Pfft, read fewer comics, Qi." Wu smiled, shaking her head. But honestly? She kinda saw it too.
Then Qi's jaw dropped again. "Wait—is that Yang Yi? And Su Junyang too?! This game's got everyone out of the woodwork."
Before Wu could reply, the stadium boomed. Game time.
The cameras zoomed in as the Tar Heels made their entrance.
First up, Tyler Hansbrough. The guy looked like a soldier with that crew cut. 6'9", all hustle, holding more school records than a trophy shelf can handle. Scouts had him pegged top-15 pick in the draft.
Then came Ty Lawson — built like a mini tank, fast as hell. If the guy was just a few inches taller, he'd be a top-five lock. Still, he was 18th on most boards.
Next was Danny Green — 46.7% from deep this season, and sneaky good on D. ESPN had him late second round, but real hoopers knew the value.
Wayne Ellington followed, smooth as butter. Averaging 20 a game, a shot-maker from anywhere on the court. A scoring machine.
And Ed Davis? That springy backup center? He was getting more minutes tonight. The coaches wanted him on Lin.
"Jesus," Wu muttered. "This team's stacked."
North Carolina fans were already going nuts.
"North Carolina! North Carolina! North Carolina!"
It felt like a tidal wave of blue washing over the court. Mad March vibes. UNC fans were loud, cocky, and ready.
Then came Davidson's lineup…
Shooting guard: Rand, who?
Small forward: McMillan — decent, but not a star.
Power forward: Anthony Beasley — solid, but still just a guy.
Wu coughed. "These intros aren't exactly screaming intimidation…"
But then the red wave roared to life.
Because here came the two stars.
Stephen Curry and Lin Yi.
A nickname born from sports writer Javier Stanford — and boy, did it stick.
Steph had just dropped a monster triple-double in the Sweet 16. Draft boards had him top three.
7 feet tall. Crazy coordination. Silky handle. A jumper so smooth it could sell cologne. (TN: Ok, enough glazing.)
"Kinda reminds me of myself," Kobe said from the stands, casually sliding off his shades.
LeBron and Wade cracked up.
"He is your biggest fan," Wade said. "You've seen how many times he's shouted you out?"
Kobe smirked. "Guess I should hit him with a Mamba quote or something. Gotta keep the young guns motivated."
Up in the stands, Vince Carter was grinning at Dell Curry.
"Man, I still can't believe that's Steph. He was just a little kid hangin' around the court back in the day."
Dell laughed. "Yeah, time flies. But don't get too comfy, Vince. Davidson's takin' this one."
"Hah! We'll see about that, man. Go Tar Heels!"
Across the aisle, Yao Ming was giving a quiet pep talk to Yi Jianlian while Sun Yue texted someone and barely looked up.
"C'mon, you guys need to talk more with your teammates," Yao said with a sigh. "You can't just be quiet all the time."
Yi Jianlian, eyes glued to Lin, didn't answer. He was still stunned.
He's tall ... and he moves like that?
Lin's warm-up had blown Yi's mind. The speed, the handles, the rhythm — it wasn't just good for a big man. It was good, period.
How's his coordination this clean? Yi thought. And his frame... he doesn't even look that strong, but Ming said he finishes through contact better than I.
The truth was, Yi Jianlian had all the raw tools. But he'd focused so much on lifting and strength, he'd skipped the details — the footwork, the reads, the flow. Lin? Lin had all that.
Sun Yue finally looked up. "He's smooth," he muttered, half-impressed.
Meanwhile, the arena was hitting max volume.
The red and blue were ready. The fans were standing. The lights dimmed. The tip-off was coming.
And Wu Xiaolei whispered to herself, "Let's see if the Star Shooters can really shake up March Madness."
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