Chapter 284: Thunder vs Knicks End

At the end of the first quarter, Kevin Durant was 0-for-6 from the field, with only two points from free throws. For a scorer of his caliber, it was a frustrating start—especially considering this was the first time he’d experienced such a dry spell since becoming the Scoring Leader last season.

In short, he was pissed.

The Thunder, though, had Westbrook to thank for keeping things from falling apart early. Russ was locked in—he went 7-for-9 overall, including four-for-four from the line, racking up 18 points, 5 rebounds, and a dime. Without his energy, Oklahoma City might’ve been buried before halftime.

Score check at 19-25 of the first: Thunder 19, Knicks 25.

On the Knicks’ side, Lin Yi was doing most of the damage—he went 2-of-4 from the field but nailed all four of his free throws. At the quarter break, he had 8 points, 6 boards, and 3 assists.

Slumping onto the bench, Lin wiped sweat off his brow, deep in thought.

“Man, these teams are starting to figure me out. It’s getting more technical out there,” he muttered to himself. “Every one of them’s got some analytics squad breaking down tape like it’s rocket science. I have to lock in more.”

...

Durant sat beside Westbrook, towel over his head, trying to gather himself.

Russ patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll bounce back, Kev. Just stay with it.”

“Appreciate it,” Durant mumbled, exhaling deeply through the towel.

...

Second quarter. Both sides rolled out their bench units.

James Harden—now a full-time member of the Thunder’s Big Three—checked in. With his emergence, the Thunder had phased out Jeff Green, who just didn’t seem worth the investment anymore.

In Lin Yi’s memory of this timeline, the Thunder’s youthful core would eventually make the Western Conference Finals, only to fall to the veteran-heavy Mavericks. But this world was already different—The Knicks swiped Tyson Chandler and signed Emeka Okafor instead. Who knew if the old guard in Dallas could summon another miracle?

Back on the court, Harden wasted no time. He pulled up from deep and drained a smooth three.

Durant, watching from the bench, sighed. Westbrook and Harden were making it look easy tonight.

Why the hell was he struggling so much?

After all, he was supposed to be the team’s leading scorer—night in, night out.

Truth be told, Durant was still ahead of Lin Yi in terms of raw scoring talent. But at this point in his career, he hadn’t fully figured out how to control tempo or use his offense to elevate the whole team. That would come later.

He wasn’t alone. Harden would eventually carry the Rockets to third in the West—ironically, playing even better without Dwight Howard. And Westbrook, in Durant’s absence, had dragged OKC to ninth in the conference.

Later, Russ would even push the Thunder to 47 wins and sixth in the West—solo.

For now, though, OKC’s bench was clawing them back into the game. When the starters returned midway through the second quarter, the Knicks' lead had shrunk to just three: 33–30.

Durant checked in. But Tony Allen stuck to him like glue.

It was borderline harassment. Still, Durant finally got one to go—an assertive face-up jumper. 33–32. His celebration after the dunk was almost cathartic.

That is, until Knicks fans rained down boos.

“What are you even celebrating for?” one fan yelled.

Meanwhile, Lin Yi was back to work. He got Jeff Green in the post, gave him a little shoulder shimmy, leaned back slightly, then snapped off a smooth fadeaway.

Swish.

The Garden roared.

He didn’t even look at the basket after the release—just turned, lips curled into that smug, knowing grin.

Durant’s last jumper? Suddenly felt like a footnote.

“He's good,” Durant muttered.

Jeff Green just sighed. “Yeah… tough to guard.”

Durant glanced at him. “Didn’t you just hold him to 2-of-6 in the first?”

“Still,” Westbrook chimed in, “dude’s an All-Star starter for a reason.”

Durant didn’t even reply this time.

Traitors. The both of you.

It stung more because Durant had once been open to playing alongside Lin Yi. Back in Lin’s college days, he’d even spoken up for him. Hyped him publicly.

Now? This guy was becoming a problem.

And Green wasn’t lying. Lin’s combination of height, skill, and footwork made him a nightmare. You couldn’t relax—not even for a second.

Most players liked to coast a bit during regular-season games. Not Lin.

Westbrook still remembered Dallas when Lin took home the dunk contest crown. Since then, he’d respected Lin’s mentality. His streak of ten straight triple-doubles last season had impressed even the Turtle.

Back on the court, Durant was settling in. Tony Allen was clinging to him like a shadow, but KD found space and hit a tough jumper.

Swoosh.

Finally, something.

He is finding his flow, Lin thought, watching from the other end. He didn’t blame Tony Allen for not locking Durant down—some shots you just couldn’t stop.

That kind of shooting only came from relentless reps under pressure.

The Thunder came down the floor again after a turnover. Harden slipped around a screen from Durant and got open. But his shot bricked hard off the rim.

Ibaka went for the rebound, but Lin beat him to it, snagging the ball and pushing the pace. Spotting Lou Williams on the wing, he dished it off—and Lou nailed the three.

Boom. 38–34, Knicks up by four.

On the Thunder’s next possession, Durant came off a high screen. But this time, Tony Allen anticipated it perfectly—cut off the lane, tipped the ball, and sparked a fast break. Lou Williams again on the receiving end. Easy two.

40–34. Knicks by six.

Thunder head coach Scott Brooks paced the sideline. He hesitated. Timeout? No, not yet. Let the kids figure it out.

But Durant’s frustration only mounted. He tried to avoid Allen on the next play… only for Danny Green to switch onto him.

Durant’s contested shot missed, and Lin was already charging upcourt after grabbing the rebound.

By the time he crossed halfcourt, the crowd was already standing.

Then… he pulled up.

From way downtown.

Madison Square Garden held its breath. Thunder’s fastest defender, Sefolosha, could only watch in disbelief.

“Is he seriously pulling from there?!”

Durant winced as Lin rose into the shot. Legs locked. Core tight. Perfect release.

Splash.

The net didn’t even move.

Brooks had seen enough. Hands to his head, he called a timeout.

The Garden exploded.

“LIN YI FROM ANOTHER ZIP CODE!” Barkley screamed on the broadcast. “GOOD LORD! GOD BLESS AMERICA.”

"AMEN," Kenny responded.

And just like that, the Knicks were cooking.

...

Final Score: Thunder 88, Knicks 107.

It was a solid win for the Knicks, one that was built on a decisive second-quarter surge and finished with poise. From start to finish, they appeared to be the better team.

Lin Yi played 37 minutes, checking back in briefly at the start of the fourth before resting for the final stretch. His stat line? Impressive. He went 13-for-28 from the field, hit 3-of-8 from deep, and knocked down 7-of-8 at the line. In total: 36 points, 15 rebounds, 6 assists, and 2 blocks.

Across from him, Kevin Durant had a night to forget. Guarded tightly by Tony Allen, Durant shot just 6-of-21 with 5 free throws. He missed all four of his attempts from three-point range, and although he added 9 rebounds and 2 assists, he finished with just 17 points. It wasn’t his night.

Westbrook had a bit more success—9-of-19 shooting, 1-of-4 from beyond the arc, and 6-of-8 from the line for a team-high 25 points. He also chipped in 9 boards and 5 assists.

Harden, coming off the bench, had a more efficient night. He went 7-for-15, hit a three, and knocked down three of four free throws for 18 points, along with 3 rebounds and 6 assists.

After the game, Charles Barkley shook his head and summed it up:
"That second quarter, man... the Knicks hit them with a wave. Same thing they did last season. You can't blink against this team."

That second quarter was indeed the turning point. Lin Yi’s audacious, deep pull-up three on the fast break turned momentum on its head—and from there, the Knicks never looked back. The Thunder tried to claw back in the second half, but New York’s defense held strong.

Durant slipped out of the arena without speaking to the media. No postgame interview, no statement. Just a quiet exit.

Westbrook, always more open, faced the reporters with a calm expression.

"Losing's part of the game," he said. "Tonight, the Knicks were the better team. We’ll bounce back."

When asked about Durant’s shooting woes, Westbrook stayed composed:
"Kevin’s one of the best scorers in the world. We trust him. He just didn’t have it tonight, that’s all."

The reporters didn’t get much more than that. Westbrook wasn’t offering any sound bites.

Thunder head coach Scott Brooks was more forthcoming—but not necessarily happier.

"We tried a lot of things," Brooks admitted. "But some of Lin Yi’s shots tonight... I mean, those are just bad shot selections. Bad shots that went in."

When asked about Durant’s struggles, Brooks offered a simple defense:
"Kevin worked hard. He’s doing everything we ask. Sometimes it’s just not your night. It happens."

With little to pull from the Thunder locker room, reporters turned their attention to Lin Yi.

"Lin," one asked, "Coach Brooks said Durant just had an unlucky night. Thoughts?"

Lin raised an eyebrow and paused, then smiled slightly.

"Well... I can only wish them better luck next time."

That alone had enough spice to catch attention—but then Lin added, thoughtfully:

"Because sometimes, it’s only through losing that you realize how much of life hinges on luck. You understand that success isn’t always earned—and that failure doesn’t always mean you didn’t deserve to succeed. Quote from Sun Tzu."

The room fell quiet.

The line was sharp—but it wasn’t gloating. Philosophical. Introspective. It could’ve been aimed at Brooks, or Lin himself, or even as a message to young players watching at home.

Even Coach Brooks, watching the clip later that night, paused and nodded.

"Tough opponent. Very tough opponent," he muttered.

...

The next morning, Lin Yi wasn’t satisfied. Beating the Thunder was good—but growth came from more than wins.

He found Tony Allen in the training facility, stretching out by the baseline.

"Tony," Lin asked, "what's the hardest thing to defend about me, from your perspective?"

Tony glanced at him, thoughtful. "Toughest thing? Your jumper."

"Really?" Lin raised a brow.

Tony nodded. "Yeah. See, when I was guarding Kevin last night, I wasn’t worried about the drive. He’s tall, long arms, sure—but I’d rather he attack than hit jumpers in my face. Once a shooter gets in rhythm... there’s not much you can do."

Lin nodded slowly. That lined up with how he’d been seeing things lately.

"When your touch is on, there’s no real way to stop you. I mean it," Tony added. "Same with Kevin. If he had capitalized last night, we’d be talking about a whole different game."

Tony Allen wasn’t just a defender—he was a student of the game. Lin respected that.

"You ever think my shots are too... out there?" Lin asked.

Tony laughed. "Your shot selection? Not textbook. But hey, some of the best players have to be a little crazy. What you call a bad shot becomes a good one when it goes in."

Lin chuckled. "Coach Brooks thinks my shots are unreasonable."

"Let him. That’s his job," Tony shrugged. "Our job is to make the shot or stop it."

That conversation gave Lin more than confidence—it gave him clarity.

He went straight to Coach D'Antoni.

The coach was already drawing on the whiteboard, analyzing game tape.

"Mike," Lin said. "I've been thinking—maybe we’re missing something in our sets. I’m getting doubled more this year. If I give up the ball early, we don’t always have someone to organize the play."

D'Antoni looked up, eyes lighting up.

"Go on."

They talked. About high-post initiations, about fake handoffs, about slipping screens and ghost cuts. About unlocking Lin’s offense without forcing him to carry everything.

"We might’ve been stuck in a system that made you carry too much," D’Antoni admitted. "But when you’re off-ball... yeah, we can shift things. Just like we ran in the summer scrimmages."

Lin nodded. "I’m good with adapting. I don’t need to hold the ball every possession. I just want to win."

"That’s what I like to hear."

Coach D'Antoni smiled—one of those rare, satisfied smiles. He patted Lin on the back.

"You know, kid... you might just be the most unpredictable problem for every defense in the league."

"Let’s hope so," Lin laughed. "Because the goal hasn’t changed. We’re here to win it all."

D’Antoni stopped, took a breath.

"Say that again."

"We’re here to win the championship."

The old coach nodded, slower this time. The word meant something different this year.