Chapter Eighty-Nine: The King Returns

“I can play. Even if I cannot run at full speed, my shot is still impossible to stop,” Lin Fei told Nelson and the medical staff.

“Your injury does not allow it. At best, you may be able to play in the next game. Your body cannot handle intense exertion,” the team doctor said.

“Give me twenty minutes. I want to play. Really. I feel very good, and if I start running, I doubt anyone can stop me.” Nelson’s tone carried something almost pleading.

Lin Fei spoke in a low, steady voice, though everyone could sense the anxiety in his heart.

“Trust me. I won’t make a joke of myself, and I won’t gamble with the team’s fate. Compared with all your medical equipment, I seem to trust my own instincts even more.” A faint smile touched Lin Fei’s face.

“Instinct?” Nelson murmured. “You Chinese are always like this, trusting your instincts more. You all share the same flaw, and the same strength: you are all rather self-assured. I believe you can do it. I’ll give you fifteen minutes. We’ll decide your playing time according to your condition. At the same time, you must accept that you are returning to the bench.”

“Okay! Okay!” Hearing his coach say that, Lin Fei was like a child made ecstatic, almost ready to leap into the air.

At the pregame press conference, Lin Fei’s return was nothing short of explosive news. For the Warriors, it was enormously uplifting; for the Thunder, Lin Fei was a nightmare. His comeback seemed enough to drive them to despair. Still, they clung to one hope: that after taking the floor, his touch would not be very sharp, since he was, after all, carrying a minor injury.

At tipoff, the Warriors sent out the same lineup they had used in the first playoff game.

But this Warriors team was no longer the one from yesterday. It seemed far more confident now.

The Thunder were relieved that Lin Fei was not starting, which meant his condition had surely not returned to its peak. So they believed that before Lin Fei checked in, they needed to pound the Warriors into submission. Yet against a Warriors team playing with such confidence, the Thunder still found themselves laboring hard.

Lin Fei was delighted by what he saw on the floor, because if the game kept unfolding this way, perhaps he would not even need to play. In truth, he knew perfectly well that his head was still a little foggy, making it difficult to concentrate and play a proper game. Before, he had simply been unable to accept the idea of his team losing the second game, so he had forced himself through the pain and claimed he could play. But seeing the situation now, Lin Fei felt only relief.

Because they had already grown fairly familiar with their share-the-ball system from the previous game, Jobs and Aikes, matched up at power forward and small forward against Durant’s wing attack, no longer suffered a serious disadvantage. As for the backcourt battle between Curry and Westbrook, even though they were slightly inferior in athleticism and scoring ability, the Warriors’ guards were not at all outmatched thanks to a more collective and aggressive tactical framework.

But as the game wore on, the Warriors gradually began to show signs of fatigue. That was hardly surprising; the final regular-season battle against the Thunder had been no less grueling than a playoff game, and the first game had also been extremely hard-fought for the Warriors. The biggest factor was that the Warriors relied on nonstop sprinting, with some players covering the equivalent of a full marathon in a single game. In the playoffs, coaches are more inclined to use the few men they trust most, and those whose regular-season performances are less stable are usually used sparingly.

By halftime, Nelson still had not put Lin Fei in, and the Warriors led by five points. And that margin had mostly been erased late in the first half by a scoring run from the Thunder.

During the break, the fans were already cheering for Lin Fei’s entrance. People shouted the same phrase with near hysteria: “The king returns.”

When the second half began, the Thunder immediately shifted their offensive focus onto Durant and Westbrook, increasing their emphasis on drives. Scott Brooks could see that the Warriors’ players were already beginning to tire, so he leaned even more heavily on penetration to wear them down and create more opportunities for his own team.

Midway through the third quarter, Nelson finally sent Lin Fei in.

The moment Lin Fei stepped onto the court, the fans roared themselves hoarse.

Lin Fei replaced Curry, and Scott Brooks immediately called a timeout and changed his defensive scheme. He knew exactly how frightening this player could be.

But when Lin Fei entered the game, he was not the same figure the fans had imagined: no endless bursts of speed, no instant three from midcourt. Instead, he could not so easily dribble past Westbrook.

That made everyone anxious, because once Lin Fei lost his speed advantage, his menace would be cut in half. He would no longer be able to create space for his shot, nor create space for his teammates.

Even so, the Thunder’s defense was utterly uncompromising. They stayed glued to Lin Fei, refusing to let him gain even a single step, while also sending traps at the appropriate moments. The first stat Lin Fei recorded after checking in was, astonishingly, a turnover.

His arrival immediately threw the Warriors’ rhythm into chaos. The Thunder seized the opportunity to surge ahead, and by the end of the third quarter they were somehow leading the Warriors by five.

The situation was very unfavorable for the Warriors.

If the Warriors lost this game, winning the first-round playoff series would become extremely difficult. In the league, very few teams have managed to reverse a series after losing two home games.

Lin Fei’s once-calm heart was suddenly filled with frustration. Why was his condition so poor after coming on? He had never been a natural organizer anyway, so that could have been forgiven. But today he had taken five three-point attempts and made none of them. In six minutes on the floor, he had scored zero points, committed two more turnovers, and only salvaged matters with two assists, which kept the embarrassment from being too severe.

Lin Fei even began to doubt whether he could play in the final quarter. He knew very well that once he exerted himself, his head would start to throb and his speed would not come at all. Maybe the team would be better off with him on the bench.

Even so, many still believed Lin Fei could produce another miraculous reversal in the final quarter, just as he had in the regular-season finale: hitting fifteen threes in a frenzy, sinking ten threes in a single quarter, moving heaven once more, and staging a true king’s return on this court.

But the Thunder seemed to have prepared for exactly this kind of scenario. A real powerhouse does not let itself stumble in the same place twice.

A king’s return is not something that can be performed every time. Now the most crucial factor was really just two people: Nelson, and Lin Fei himself.