"Tracy, are you really going to China?"
In August, Miami, Carter had dropped by for a quiet one-on-one talk with his cousin, Tracy McGrady.
McGrady nodded once, easy and certain. "Yeah. Yao Ming invited me. I'm going over."
Vince Carter leaned back slightly, spinning a ball on his finger. He did not argue the decision. Part of him even liked it. McGrady being out of the country meant fewer reminders of that championship ring showing up in front of him.
Winning had changed the balance between them in a way Carter had not expected. When things were rough before, McGrady's situation gave him something to compare against, a quiet reassurance that he was not the only one fighting uphill. That reference point was gone now.
Carter caught the ball and started a light dribble.
"By the way," McGrady said, catching a pass and rising into a smooth pull-up, "how's your contract talk with Miami going?"
Carter shot back quickly, then answered without looking up. "Same story. Feels like they are not planning to renew."
The ball came back off the rim, and McGrady grabbed it one-handed.
The situation in Miami had shifted fast. Three straight seasons without a title had turned the front office restless. LeBron James's agent, Rich Paul, had already applied pressure behind the scenes. Patience in the organization was thinning by the day, and everything felt temporary.
Even veterans were no longer treated as permanent pieces.
After re-signing Ray Allen that summer, Miami's approach toward Carter had changed. Not hostile, just uncertain. Replaceable. That was worse.
Pat Riley had no illusions about the roster. If a reset came, Carter was not protected by reputation. He was simply part of the cost.
Reports around the league suggested even Chris Bosh was being evaluated as movable if the right deal appeared. Miami was operating like a team that knew its window was closing and had already started thinking about the next version.
Carter finished a drive and dunked on the rim, the force of it loud in the empty gym.
McGrady watched it land and exhaled. Time had taken pace from most players. Carter still had flashes that made it look like it had not.
Then McGrady spoke again, slower this time.
"Vince, have you thought about the New York Knicks?"
Carter paused.
New York.
That was not just a team. It was the team. A direction change he had not fully allowed himself to consider.
McGrady already knew the reaction coming. Loyalty, habit, the idea of not crossing certain lines. He had seen it before, especially with Carter.
Back in Florida, Carter had always been the one who believed in connection first, consequences later. That was part of what made him difficult to move, even in conversation.
McGrady dribbled once, then added, "Miami is not committing. If you are not in their long-term plan, you need options. New York is building something."
Carter gave a short laugh, almost dismissive, but not fully convinced. "Even if Miami does not want me, why would New York?"
McGrady pointed down at his sneakers for a moment.
The numbers 35 and 13 sat on them.
Carter frowned. "I know your 35 seconds and 13 points. You do not need to remind me every time."
McGrady stopped, then let out a breath. "That is not the point. The point is you do not know until you try."
He looked toward Carter again.
"And New York is not only looking for stars. They are collecting veterans who can still play."
Carter did not answer immediately. The thought stayed there longer than expected.
He wanted a ring. That part was simple. The path was not.
. . .
Later, the message reached New York through his agent.
Lin Yi was in China at the time, dealing with training sessions and sparring matches, when the call came through.
"Vince Carter wants to join us."
Lin Yi stopped for a moment.
Vince Carter. The same player who had spent years in Miami, tied to a different project, a different direction.
He turned to Javier.
"We still have two roster spots left, right?"
Javier nodded.
"Good. Tell him we are open," Lin Yi said. "But make it clear. Minutes are not guaranteed."
Carter's shooting profile was useful. Not explosive like before, but stable. In a roster built around spacing, that still mattered. With Klay Thompson and Danny Green in the mix, New York was already leaning heavily into perimeter volume.
Ellington, Korver, multiple shooters, systems designed around repetition rather than isolation.
After Miami received the reply from New York through his agent, Carter did not hesitate any longer.
If they did not want me here, there were plenty of other places that would.
That thought settled cleanly in Carter's mind. No lingering doubt, no second-guessing. He packed his bags the same day and left for New York.
The New York Knicks moved quickly. The deal was simple: one year, veteran minimum. No promises, no guarantees, only a seat in a system that was already forming its own identity.
With that signing, the roster gained another veteran voice. After McGrady's path and Yao's influence, another experienced name entered the room, adding weight to an already crowded veteran group that now looked less like a rebuild and more like a collection of unfinished careers trying to end on different terms.
The league noticed.
On TNT, Charles Barkley leaned into the moment with his usual tone. "So everyone is just going to the Knicks now to try to win a ring before they retire?"
The studio laughed, but the comment did not land like a joke alone. There was something underneath it. A pattern forming that was harder to ignore.
The Knicks were no longer seen as just a team building through drafts or trades. They were becoming a destination for players who still believed they had one run left.
Retirement talk attached itself easily, but performance still mattered, and that balance made the situation feel unusual across the league.
Inside the organization, Lin Yi did not comment on outside reactions.
. . .
Instead, August continued with production for the second season of Here Comes Basketball.
The filming schedule stayed smooth, even when training sessions got intense. One of the main focus points remained development, especially for younger players still adjusting to professional demands.
Zhou Qi spent most of his sessions under pressure.
Lin Yi did not treat his limitations as something to ignore. The frame was thin, contact situations were unstable, and inside scoring demanded more than he could safely rely on. The adjustment direction was clear.
Shoot further out. Space the floor. Reduce unnecessary physical exchanges.
During a break, Zhou Qi asked a direct question.
"Lin, is my style too soft?"
The question came with hesitation, but it was honest.
Lin Yi answered immediately and corrected him on court with a sharp reminder after a missed reaction drill.
"Soft is not the issue. Soft is when you avoid contact without purpose. What you are doing is losing balance in contact."
He pointed toward the perimeter.
"If you shoot, commit fully. After the shot, you control your presence. Not during the contact."
Zhou Qi listened without interrupting.
Lin Yi continued, "If you feel uncertain after shooting, correct it with consistency. Chest up, hold your position. Do not fade mentally."
Zhou Qi nodded, absorbing it without argument. The authority was not questioned. Lin Yi's record had already removed most debate around his instructions.
At the same time, international competition added another layer to the month.
The Chinese men's team won the Asian title, defeating Iran 88 to 78 in the final. Yi Jianlian showed a steadier leadership presence than in earlier timelines, while younger players like Ding Yanyuhang and others stepped into meaningful roles without hesitation.
The result shifted expectations for the following cycle. Without Yao Ming in the picture, the ceiling would still be limited at the world level, but reaching competitive stages was no longer considered out of reach.
Lin Yi reacted publicly with a simple message.
"Winning is good. Losing just gives people material they do not deserve."
Before returning to New York, he handled family arrangements and briefly stayed in China for additional commitments tied to the program and team obligations.
During one of the filming breaks, he shared a meal with visiting NBA players, including Kobe Bryant.
The meal did not go smoothly for everyone.
A dish prepared with extremely spicy seasoning turned into a test of endurance for most of the table. Kobe handled it with visible strain but refused to step away first, maintaining his competitive tone even off court.
Elsewhere, Klay Thompson's presence in China had turned into a separate media moment. Klay Thompson had become one of the most popular figures among young fans during the filming of the show.
His shooting style translated easily into admiration, even if expectations around his athletic attempts sometimes exceeded what his body could safely support.
A failed dunk attempt during an event turned into viral footage online. The reaction spread quickly across platforms, amplified further when Stephen Curry reposted it with commentary of his own. Stephen Curry treated it like a friendly rivalry, adding highlights of his own attempts in response.
Klay saw it later and reacted with frustration that bordered on disbelief.
Lin Yi stepped in during training after watching the clip.
"Klay, you do not need to force that movement."
Klay nodded.
Lin Yi added, "Because you cannot learn it the way you are trying to."
Klay paused.
Kobe, on the other hand, treated the entire trip as a success. His teaching sessions with young players drew emotional responses, and by the end of filming, several participants treated the experience as a defining moment in their development.
Before leaving, Lin Yi made a casual suggestion.
"After retirement, you should consider coaching."
Kobe refused without hesitation.
"I want to focus on family."
Lin Yi nodded in approval.
The conversation shifted quickly after that, moving from basketball philosophy into private discussion about training methods for the next generation and family.
Klay, standing nearby, said nothing. He only watched the direction the conversation was taking and chose silence over participation.
He had no maiden.
. . .
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