Lin Yi won the tip.
Anthony Davis reacted quickly, timed the toss well, and got a clean jump off the floor, but Lin Yi was already there. The read was sharper, the timing cleaner, like he had seen the referee's motion a half second before it happened. The ball was tapped back toward New York.
First possession, Knicks.
In transition, Shaun Livingston collected it calmly. He pushed the ball upcourt and immediately settled the offense into half-court spacing.
Inside the arena, the crowd was already louder than expected for an opening possession. Without Chris Paul and Tyson Chandler available, the assumption was uncertain. What they saw instead was structure.
A different kind of confidence.
Somewhere in the lower bowl, fans were already thinking the same thing.
Maybe the team did not lose as much as it looked.
Livingston dribbled toward the wing, scanning. His role was simple on paper. Move the ball, set the table, and deliver it to the right option.
But something shifted in his mindset as he crossed midcourt. If Paul could run an offense, he could run an offense. The logic felt simple enough to him in the moment.
He tightened his grip on the possession and stayed on the ball longer than usual, waiting for Lin to set up.
At the elbow, Lin Yi established position. This was not new basketball. It was older than most systems in the league. Clear the floor, enter the post, read the defense, punish the mismatch.
A style Shaq and other bigs had lived through. A style that never truly disappeared, only went out of fashion.
Klay Thompson held the weak side, visibly resisting the urge to launch early. Seth Curry stayed attached to him, small frame, active feet, trying to deny even a fraction of space.
The entry pass came anyway.
Lin Yi caught it on the block.
Anthony Davis met him immediately.
The first contact was anything but soft. Davis leaned in, trying to absorb the initial pressure, testing strength. For a split second, it held.
Then Lin Yi moved.
One bump.
Davis adjusted.
Second bump.
His balance shifted.
Third bump.
The base broke.
Lin Yi turned over his shoulder and rose into a simple finish at the rim.
Two points.
No celebration.
The arena reacted instantly.
Madison Square Garden did not treat it as a single possession. It treated it as confirmation.
The King was back.
On the broadcast, Shaquille O'Neal leaned forward.
"Yeah," he said, voice lower now, "He's looking good so far."
Mike Brown stayed seated, expression unchanged, already adjusting defensive help concepts in his head. Melo was late to rotate, but even perfect timing would not have changed the outcome. The ball was gone too fast once the post move started.
Davis stood under the rim for a moment after the whistle of the net.
He had faced physical bigs before. He had not been moved like that on a clean post entry in a structured set.
Davis had improved significantly from his rookie year. He was stronger, more experienced, and much more comfortable dealing with NBA physicality. Even so, he was still years away from becoming the dominant force he would eventually become.
Compared to a player who had already spent more than four seasons refining every aspect of his game, the gap was obvious.
As he jogged back on defense, he couldn't help but think:
Man... how dominant was Shaq in his prime?
People still reminisced about the physical terror of Shaq in the paint. Some even quoted that his production in paint was greater than Lin Yi's, which was saying something.
But if he were to choose, Lin Yi's footwork and skills would be to his liking more than Shaq's overwhelming physique.
Like many young players, Davis had a tendency to view his idols through a slightly exaggerated lens. To be fair, Lin Yi's dominance at center was also a reflection of how much the position had changed.
If Davis had entered the league in the 1990s, he probably would have been developed as a power forward rather than a full-time center.
Years later, the Pelicans would experiment with pairing Davis at power forward alongside DeMarcus Cousins at center. Ironically, after Cousins suffered his injury, the team discovered that their pace and spacing often looked better with Davis playing the five.
The game was changing.
Traditional centers were becoming less common, while mobile big men who could run the floor, switch defensively, and attack from multiple areas became increasingly valuable.
The future version of Anthony Davis would thrive in that environment.
The current version, however, was still learning the hardest lesson every young center eventually faced.
Playing center meant taking the hits.
You protected the rim, battled for rebounds, absorbed contact, and spent every night wrestling with the biggest players on the floor.
Sometimes there was simply no substitute for experience.
The Cavaliers answered immediately on the other end.
This time it was Carmelo Anthony.
Backed down on the block, one power dribble, another bump, then a smooth spin toward the middle.
Textbook Melo.
For all the jokes about his physique, Anthony's footwork was incredibly polished. During this stage of his career, his post-game resembled Charles Barkley's in many ways. Strong base, great balance, and surprisingly quick spins for a player his size.
The move finished with a soft layup.
2-2.
As the Cavaliers ran back on defense, Melo patted Davis on the shoulder.
"Relax," he said. "You're guarding one of the toughest covers in basketball."
Davis looked over.
Anthony continued, "Nobody's stopping him one-on-one every possession. Not me, not you, not anybody. If you feel him getting deeper and deeper, call for help early. Make him see more bodies."
Davis nodded.
"Got it."
Cleveland wasn't exactly known as a glamorous destination, but the locker room culture Mike Brown was building had its strengths.
At this point in his career, Carmelo hadn't developed many of the habits that would later draw criticism. He wanted to win, wanted to lead, and genuinely looked after the younger players around him.
Watching from the other side, Lin Yi found himself nodding slightly. No wonder so many players respected Melo. Talent got people into the league. Veteran leadership kept teams together.
On New York's next possession, Livingston crossed half-court and immediately followed what appeared to be the unofficial job description for Knicks point guards.
Bring the ball up.
Clear out.
Give it to Lin Yi.
Mission accomplished.
On the bench, Steve Nash couldn't help smiling. That offense looked strangely familiar.
"If Lin and I share the floor in the second quarter," Nash muttered to himself, "this might actually be pretty easy."
Back on the court, Davis found himself in another battle. Lin Yi caught the ball on the block, lowered his shoulder, and began backing down.
The contact echoed through the lane.
Davis held his ground as long as he could.
One step.
Another.
Then Lin Yi suddenly created space and released a high-arcing hook shot.
The ball dropped cleanly through the net.
Davis clenched his jaw.
F**k, he thought. I'm putting on more weight next summer.
What he didn't realize was how much pressure he was putting on Lin Yi as well to stay levelled up. The younger generation was coming. Every season, the league seemed to produce another freak athlete capable of changing the future.
Players like Anthony Davis would have been special in any era. The difference was that tonight, Lin Yi was his opponent.
To avoid Davis's length, he had deliberately added extra arc to the hook shot. The adjustment was subtle, but the result was wet.
Splash
4-2.
Lin Yi opened his return game a perfect two-for-two from the field.
Around Madison Square Garden, the reaction was immediate again after his second consecutive bucket.
Claps and shouts.
Whether he was crossing defenders on the perimeter or bullying opponents in the post, Knicks fans all seemed to reach the same conclusion.
Lin Yi simply made basketball look good.
On TNT, Charles Barkley laughed.
"Looks like Lin wasn't too happy about being left off our all-time center rankings this summer."
Kenny Smith grinned.
"You know what? Next year, we might have to include him."
"We might?"
Barkley shook his head.
"No, we definitely have to. And before anybody says otherwise, Shaq couldn't make those two plays we just watched."
Kenny immediately piled on.
"Especially that hook shot. That's high-level footwork and touch right there."
Beside them, O'Neal stared at both men.
"What do you mean I couldn't make those plays?"
Barkley ignored him.
Kenny looked away.
O'Neal pointed at the two.
"Do you two forget who I am?"
Neither responded.
"I have five rings. Five." O'Neal sat back in his chair. "Apparently, I've gone from Hall of Famer to random big guy in the span of one commercial break."
"Ridiculous coming from ringless guys."
. . .
Please do leave a review and powerstones, which helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon and subscribing to 30+ advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a