NBA: Journey To Become Unplayable.

Chapter 219: Target Acquired



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....

Swish. Swish. Swish. Clang. Swish. Swish. Clang...

After a long, sweat-soaked session, Lin Yi wiped his forehead with the corner of his shirt. He exhaled and muttered to himself, "Man, turning deep threes into a regular weapon is harder than I thought."

Lately, Lin Yi had been obsessed with figuring out the trigger for his Limitless Range badge. When it activated, it felt like he could shoot from anywhere. The problem? It wasn't consistent.

At first, he assumed it was tied to how well he was feeling during a game. But that theory didn't hold up. There were nights he felt off but still triggered it, like during the All-Star Game. That night, he was in cruise mode most of the way, and yet the badge lit up.

In that All-Star Game, Lin racked up points early without much defensive pressure. In the fourth, most of his points came off easy looks after LeBron and Wade drew double-teams. If you can't even finish off those plays, then what business do you have in the NBA?

Looks like I'll need to trigger this thing a few more times before I can figure out the pattern, he thought.

What pushed Lin to crack the code was simple: his shooting efficiency had dropped recently in high-pressure situations. Against tough defenders, he could still get buckets when his rhythm was right—but when it wasn't, his finishing rate plummeted.

And Lin didn't want to rely forever on driving and kicking or backing up to create space. Not at this stage.

That's why mastering the ultra-deep three was important. If he could weaponize that shot consistently, defenders would have to pick him up almost at half-court. It would open up the floor and make scoring a lot easier.

If you can take your points clean, why put your body through hell in traffic every night?

Just as he was about to head out of the gym, he spotted Coach D'Antoni lingering near the sideline.

"Coach? Thought you'd left already," Lin called out.

D'Antoni smiled and gave a small nod. "I did, but I figured I'd come back and take another look. Lin, you really do love those long bombs, don't you?"

Lin grinned. "Yeah, they force defenders to stick close. Opens up the game for me. Plus, Steph kinda of rubbed it on me during our Wildcats days."

The coach picked up a stray ball, bounced it a few times, and lofted up a casual three. Swish. "If Danilo had half your drive, he'd be an All-Star by now," he said, half-joking but with a clear undertone.

Lin knew how much D'Antoni valued Gallinari. The old man had brought him along for this road trip, and now that Gallinari's foot injury had healed, his absence from the last game wasn't about health—it was about sending a message.

Gallinari had real talent. Height-wise, he was up there with Kevin Love, but he also had quick reflexes and solid fundamentals. That's why Coach had backed him last season.

But D'Antoni wasn't handing anything out for free. Beyond his fondness for Gallinari and relationship with his father, he knew Lin Yi couldn't carry the Knicks alone in the playoffs.

After chatting for a bit more, Lin could tell the coach was still worried about his upcoming shot at a ninth straight triple-double. The man was trying to prep him mentally, just in case he fell short.

It touched Lin.

He knew the media hype around the streak was deafening. But honestly, he didn't believe the Jazz could stop him.

That wasn't arrogance—it was awareness. He knew his level.

Triple-doubles weren't rocket science. David Lee had his back on the boards. The shooters knew to let it fly the moment they got the ball. As long as his teammates weren't cold, Lin was confident in getting the job done.

Sure, some luck was involved—but a lot of it was his deep understanding of the modern game. He wasn't just playing in this era; he was ahead of it.

That's why he could confidently say: "We're built different."

The current state of big men in the league was inconsistent. Lin could exploit mismatches and use his all-around game to outmaneuver most of them.

Plus, with the team built around his playstyle, Lin was basically the floor general. If opposing bigs couldn't keep up with his reads, he could break down the defense and force rotations every time.

The last couple of practices, his teammates had been helping him take the pressure off. But Lin wasn't paying attention to the headlines. He knew exactly how the media operated now and in the future—one day it's Harden's 60-point triple-double, the next it's Klay's 60 in three quarters against OKC.

Let them write.

At a moment like this, he didn't need distractions. The only thing that mattered was the numbers.

The praise could wait.

Basketball, after all, was a game of challenges—pushing limits and breaking barriers. Ever since he set his sights on Chamberlain's records, Lin had been studying the schedule night after night. It wasn't just about talent—it was about preparation.

And as the Knicks prepared to face the Jazz on the road, Lin Yi knew one thing for sure:

This record? He was going to take it.

...

March 29, 2010.

EnergySolutions Arena, Utah.

More than a hundred media reporters packed into the arena, cameras and lenses at the ready, waiting to capture the moment Lin Yi might make history.

For many of the photojournalists, this felt like one of those shots—one worth framing, worth keeping in their portfolio forever.

CCTV's Shen Xiafei caught up with Lin Yi before tip-off. After all, Lin's triple-double streak had become a huge story back in China, sending the fanbase into a frenzy.

Lin kept his answers short and measured. He wasn't about to make any bold declarations. Even though he believed he could pull it off tonight, he knew better than to tempt fate with cocky promises. Nine straight triple-doubles wasn't just a milestone—it was a test of his limits.

Over the past few games, his minutes had crept up to around 42 per night. Outwardly, he remained calm, smiling as always, but inside, he knew his body was starting to feel the effects.

One more. Just one more. Stay locked in.

...

During warmups, Jazz coach Jerry Sloan stood courtside, arms folded, shaking his head as he watched Lin glide through his routine.

Sloan didn't hate big men who could shoot—far from it. But seeing Lin's size and skill combined like this? It was hard not to marvel at what the kid was doing. Still, he wasn't about to let Lin make history on his floor without a fight.

Nobody in the NBA liked being just another name on someone else's highlight reel.

So Sloan had cooked up a plan—a version of the old Jordan Rules, tailored to Lin. The key wasn't stopping his points or his boards—those would come no matter what. The key was cutting off his passing lanes, shutting down his assists.

But when he saw the Knicks' starting lineup, Sloan frowned slightly.

New York was rolling out: Milicic, David Lee, Gallinari, Chandler, and Lin Yi.

This wasn't some magical foresight by D'Antoni and Lin, predicting his strategy. But over the last couple of games, the Knicks had learned something important: when teams played "Jordan Rules" on Lin, he could still pile up points, but his assists dropped off sharply.

Case in point—he nearly came up short in Phoenix's last game thanks to double- and triple-teams cutting off his outlets.

So what was the counter?

Coach D'Antoni—Pringles, as some fans sometimes called him due to his mustache—came up with something bold after reviewing film. During shootaround, he pulled Lin aside and ran him through a set of plays he'd once drawn up for Steve Nash back in Phoenix.

The idea was simple: let Lin play more like a traditional point forward, moving from early on, focusing on assists and rebounds in the first half. If the scoring came later? Great. But pad the playmaking early while the defense was still adjusting.

Lin couldn't help but chuckle and hit him on the back when he explained it. "That's why you're the man, Coach. Just what we needed."

On the court now, as the two starting fives walked to the center circle, fans in the arena held their breath.

And back home, in front of televisions around the world, Lin's fans and his critics were equally tense.

Could Lin Yi make history tonight?

...

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