Lin Yi led from the front.
He went 14-of-19 from the field, 4-of-7 from deep, and a perfect 6-of-6 at the line.
He finished with 38 points, 11 rebounds, 5 assists, and 3 blocks.
Inside, Yao Ming was even cleaner.
He shot 7-of-7 from the field, including 1-of-1 from three-point range and 2-of-2 from the free-throw line, contributing 19 points, 6 rebounds, and 2 blocks with a perfect shooting percentage.
Miami's stars put up numbers, but it was the same familiar frustration.
LeBron James finished with 35 points, 9 rebounds, and 7 assists. Dwyane Wade added 25, with 5 boards and 4 assists.
On paper, it looked like a strong night, but it felt like they were chasing the game the entire time.
Chris Bosh pulled down 11 rebounds but only managed 6 points, never quite finding his rhythm.
The result was simple.
The Heat's Big Three dropped Game 1 in New York.
The 2013 NBA Eastern Conference Finals opened with the Knicks up 1–0.
Game 2 was set for the 23rd.
…
After the game, Mike D'Antoni kept it straightforward in his post-game interview.
"Everyone contributed tonight," he said. Then he paused, nodding slightly. "But Yao… he's been one of the best centers in this league for a time. Injuries were the problem.
But tonight, he showed it again. He settled us when we needed it."
Yao didn't dodge the moment when he spoke to Chinese reporters.
"I'll retire after these playoffs," he said calmly. "So I just want to make sure I leave without regrets."
Lin Yi, standing nearby, couldn't resist adding his own tone to the interview.
…
Winning Game 1 of the Eastern Conference Finals mattered for the Knicks, but no one in their locker room treated it like a breakthrough. The opponent made that impossible.
Lin Yi understood exactly what this series demanded. Facing someone like LeBron James meant there was no shortcut to victory.
The man had the tenacity of a honey badger. He never gives up.
You had to outplay him, possession after possession, for forty-eight minutes, and then do it again and again.
It was something Lin admired about him.
That was why Game 1 carried weight beyond the scoreboard. Before the series shifted to Miami, the Knicks needed to lock down their home court. In the NBA, the environment always matters. Officiating rarely decides a game outright, but small calls lean in familiar directions. Over a long series, those edges add up.
Nothing about this run would be clean or convenient. Lin Yi accepted that early.
. . .
On the same night, the Western Conference Finals opened in San Antonio, and the Spurs made their own statement. Playing at home, they controlled the game from the start and ran the Thunder off the floor by 22 points.
The contrast between teams was sharp. San Antonio still carried the quiet discipline of its core, but the roster around them had changed. New pieces gave them depth and flexibility, and they used both.
After the game, Jimmy Butler became the center of attention. He had spent the night locked onto Kevin Durant, turning every touch into a struggle. When it was over, he let his emotions spill.
"The scoring champ ain't all that great." He said during an interview.
The line spread fast. It was not directed at Lin Yi, but was indirectly pulled into the conversation.
Butler recognized the backlash and walked it back online, but the damage was done. The message had already reached Durant.
Durant's frustration was visible. He shot 5 of 19 in the opener, never finding rhythm. For years, comparisons between him and Lin Yi had fueled debate. Now a new voice had entered the conversation, and it did not favor him.
Inside Oklahoma City, the tone was shifting as well. Russell Westbrook had dropped 30 points in Game 1, attacking relentlessly even if it took 29 shots to get there. To some, that aggression looked like leadership.
Two years earlier, the Thunder might have had the edge in a series like this. This version of the Spurs was different.
Depth, experience, and structure gave them control. The old core still produced. Tim Duncan opened the series with a 20 and 10 performance.
Tony Parker barely missed, going 9 of 11 from the field. Manu Ginóbili added his usual unpredictability, weaving through defenders before finishing.
. . .
Later that night, after watching the game, Lin Yi was about to turn in when his phone rang. The caller was Kobe.
The Lakers' second-round loss still lingered, especially the 3 to 4 exit against Oklahoma City. Kobe had spent days replaying it, dissecting every decision. That was how he worked. He demanded accountability, and he applied it to himself first.
For a moment, the conclusion had been harsh and simple. If he had played better, they would have advanced.
Then, just as quickly, he moved past it.
Kobe did not stay in defeat for long. With his health intact and his level still high, he saw no reason to slow down. Another season meant another shot.
Off the court, the Lakers were already shifting direction. Jim Buss had made the call to move on from Dwight Howard, while Jeanie Buss waited in the background, tied to a looming power change if results did not come quickly. The plan was clear. Reset the cap, target the 2014 market, and rebuild without tearing everything down.
Lin Yi knew none of that yet.
Kobe's reason for calling was simpler. He was coming to New York.
He wanted to watch the game, sit courtside, and see how far Lin Yi could push this run. There was respect there, even if it was rarely stated directly.
Lin Yi agreed without hesitation.
Maybe it would mean nothing. Maybe it would mean everything.
Either way, with Kobe in the building, the next game sure will get louder.
. . .
On the 23rd, Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals returned to Madison Square Garden, and the atmosphere had more energy.
Kobe Bryant arrived in New York on schedule. Dressed in a dark suit, he moved with the calm of someone who had already seen every stage this league could offer.
Before tipoff, he exchanged a few words with Lin Yi, then greeted LeBron James at midcourt.
If Kobe chose to step away now, he would leave the league at a clean peak, his place in history untouched and secure. Stay too long, and even legends had to negotiate with time.
But that was Kobe's decision, and not one anyone else could make for him.
Inside the Knicks' locker room, the focus stayed the same. They had to take both home games. Splitting at home would hand momentum back to Miami, and against a team built around LeBron, that was a risk no one wanted.
Beyond the court, the league office had its own quiet conversations. Adam Silver had floated the idea to David Stern that a 1–1 start might keep the series balanced and extend its drama.
Stern shut it down without hesitation.
"Some games can't be guided," he told him. "They have to play out on their own."
The ratings were already soaring. Knicks versus Heat had everything the league could ask for: star power, history, tension. Whether it stretched to seven games or ended quickly, Stern's position was firm. The outcome belonged to the players.
And now, the players were ready.
The lights dimmed. The crowd rose.
Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals was about to begin.
. . .
Please do leave a review and powerstones, which helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to 30+ advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a