Chapter Eight: He Should Be Training for the Hundred-Meter Dash

“In the world of martial arts, no defense is unbreakable—only speed is invincible.” When Nelson was training, he would often discuss Chinese culture. The old man was actually an enthusiast of it, hoping this phrase would help the players grasp its underlying truth.

After losing to the Hornets, Nelson didn’t have much time for reflection, because with only a day’s rest, they were set to face the Jazz. Their next stop was Salt Lake City, long known as one of the league’s most formidable home courts. While today’s Jazz were far from their peak years, they had always been recognized for their resilience and tenacity. Moreover, their roster still boasted some formidable talents: Millsap, Kirilenko, and the so-called “Lord of Shadows” Harris, whose speed was as unpredictable as a ghost.

For this game, “The Little Mouse” Stoudamire was invited as commentator. This 178cm guard had once been a sensation in the league, and his game was built on speed—speed, and more speed! He and Iverson had once sparked a whirlwind of fast-paced basketball that was nothing short of ferocious.

“Lin has just been named Rookie of the Week, his momentum unstoppable. The first time I watched his highlights, I was captivated by his speed and shooting. In terms of speed, he’s the fastest I’ve ever seen on a basketball court, and his three-pointers are insane—he’s a ghost on the floor. I wonder if he’ll have a chance to face Harris, the ‘Lord of Shadows,’ in a direct matchup today. If they do, I expect fireworks,” Stoudamire marveled.

“Indeed, they both remind me of your younger days, though they clearly aren’t fully matured yet. In terms of orchestrating the offense, neither is quite where you were,” added the co-commentator.

“Haha, was I ever that fast? I have a lot of faith in Lin. He barely saw any playing time before, and then suddenly exploded onto the scene. I’m a fan. As for Harris, he also lacks the ability to run an offense. Otherwise, when he teamed up with Lopez in New Jersey, they could have dominated the East. So, setting experience aside, I’d absolutely take Lin over Harris,” Stoudamire laughed.

“True, but Lin is still a rookie—he’s not yet familiar with the rhythm of the league, and he won’t have much of an edge against Harris in a head-to-head matchup. I doubt Nelson will put Lin in the starting lineup for this one.”

As the players took the court, the Warriors were met with a chorus of boos in this hostile arena.

“Oh, Lin isn’t in the starting lineup after all. Clearly, Nelson feels Lin hasn’t meshed enough with the team yet. We’ll see how it goes.”

For some reason, overnight, Lin had gained a legion of fans and supporters, always becoming the center of attention on the court and the topic of conversation among basketball lovers.

The Warriors stuck with their usual starters: center Claudson, forwards Jobs and Akes, and a backcourt of Keynes and Curry. On paper, this lineup was strong enough to go toe-to-toe with the Jazz. If you had to put a number on it, perhaps a 60-40 split in favor of the Jazz.

The Warriors opened strong, surging to a 10–2 lead. The Jazz, meanwhile, looked out of sorts, scoring just once in the first three minutes. With two minutes left in the quarter, Lin subbed in for Curry as the sixth man, immediately squaring off against Harris. Harris had already put up six points and six assists—a solid stat line. Curry’s physique was no disadvantage, but his speed couldn’t match Harris, who repeatedly blew by him for easy assists.

Once Lin entered the game, he launched a signature attack. Harris, wary of Lin’s speed, gave him some cushion to prevent a drive. Lin, seeing the gap, took two dribbles to the right and pulled up—a long-range three. The arena’s boos couldn’t drown out the fair assessment of the commentators: “The Jazz must adjust their defensive strategy and respect Lin’s shot. There’s little concrete data on Lin in the league so far, but what little there is has been eye-opening.” Indeed, with Lin having only recently started scoring, his stats were just beginning to emerge.

On defense, Lin found himself guarding Harris. The Jazz were adept at pick-and-rolls and their half-court offense was effective. Lin’s quick feet matched Harris stride for stride, and since Harris wasn’t particularly physically imposing, as long as Lin could keep up, he’d be halfway to a successful defense. At the end of the first quarter, the Warriors trailed 25–28.

Five and a half minutes into the second quarter, the Warriors had made only a single shot, though the Jazz weren’t faring much better. By halftime, the Jazz led 50–43. The Warriors managed just 18 points in the quarter—a low total for a team whose identity was built on offense. Lin checked in midway through the second, going 2-for-4 in six minutes, both makes from beyond the arc. By halftime he had 9 points and an assist, an impressive contribution in limited time—especially considering he was 3-for-5 from deep.

The Jazz, since the days of Sloan, had built their reputation on tough, ironclad defense, excelling at limiting opponents’ shooting percentages—both teams hovered around 38% in the first half. The Warriors, typically strong in shooting and rebounding, also tended to give up a lot on the other end.

At halftime, Stoudamire enthused, “I’m more and more enchanted by Lin’s shooting and speed. He should challenge Tyson Gay in the hundred meters, or compete with a sharpshooter—he’s just that quick and accurate. Incredible.”

Lin came back in the third quarter, replacing Keynes. As Keynes left, he slapped Lin’s hand and urged him to hit a few more threes. With 3:43 left, Lopez grabbed an offensive rebound and threw down a one-handed dunk, hanging on the rim and earning a technical foul. Lin sank the free throw, and the Warriors trailed 67–71. At this point, both teams had switched defensive assignments: Lin was now guarding Harris, and Curry took Kirilenko. The Jazz, no pushovers, exploited the Warriors’ defensive weaknesses in the backcourt relentlessly. It was the classic barrel theory—a barrel holds only as much water as its shortest plank allows, and the Warriors’ defensive shortfall was glaring. Yet, their relentless firepower nearly compensated for their defensive woes.

The fourth quarter saw several lead changes. With three minutes left, Kirilenko took a clever pass from Lopez, scored easily, drew a foul, and converted the three-point play, putting the Jazz ahead 107–98.

The Warriors called a timeout and Lin was subbed out. In crunch time, Nelson didn’t want to risk a rookie making mistakes—rookies tended to foul, often unnecessarily. Akes soon hit a shot, and the Warriors mounted an 11–4 run, closing the gap to 109–111 with just over a minute left. Both teams missed shots on the ensuing possessions. Claudson grabbed a rebound, the Warriors called a quick timeout, and to everyone’s surprise, the coach sent Lin back in. The intent was obvious: Nelson was thinking three-pointer, almost telegraphing his move. It hardly seemed the mark of a seasoned coach.

Lin checked in. Eighteen seconds remained. He had the ball. The Jazz were uneasy—Nelson was proving unpredictable. Conventional wisdom would suggest going to the most reliable option, not turning the floor over to a rookie, even a promising one.

Usually, there are two choices in this situation: shoot quickly and hope for a last possession if you miss, or run down the clock and stake everything on the final shot. Nelson clearly chose the latter—he didn’t want overtime, he wanted a knockout blow.

Lin crossed half-court in three seconds. Harris pressed him but didn’t dare get too close, knowing Lin’s speed matched his own. Banking on his height advantage, Harris gave Lin some space, but made sure not to allow an easy shot. Lin faked a drive and lobbed the ball inside to Akes, who tried to post up. Jobs was on the baseline, Keynes at the wing, Claudson moved up to the high post, and Lin retreated several steps toward half-court. The Jazz collapsed into a double-team, and it looked like little opportunity remained. Akes, under pressure, had little confidence, but Lin was so far beyond the arc—what to do?

The original play called for Lin and Keynes to hover around the three-point line, Claudson to set up high, and the final shot to go to Keynes or Lin. As a last resort, the center would take a three. But Lin had drifted even farther from the arc.

Left with no other choice, Akes threw a long pass to Lin. He caught it, two seconds left, wide open, launched an ultra-deep three with an impossibly high arc—so high it left the whole arena momentarily dumbstruck.

“It’s in! The Chinese phenom Lin pulls off his second game-winner in three games. Absolutely clutch, the definition of a big-moment player!”

All the Warriors swarmed him. It was a moment of glory. Lin threw his head back and roared to the heavens, declaring to the world that the NBA was drawing ever closer to his era.