Durant looked a little off tonight. Did he play badly?
Well… not exactly. But he didn't look like himself either.
After three quarters, he was 8-for-12 from the field, 1-for-3 from beyond the arc, and perfect from the line with 2-for-2. Nineteen points—not terrible by any means, but it felt quiet.
Part of it wasn't really on him. The Thunder's offense completely stalled in the second quarter. Once the Knicks started hitting their outside shots, Coach Brooks pulled Westbrook back in early to try to stabilize things.
Funny thing is, Durant didn't seem to have a problem with how Russ was playing. The Knicks were locking in on him all night—he barely even got touches. Meanwhile, Westbrook kept finding gaps and getting shots up.
By the end of the third, Russ had taken 25 shots and made 11. Take away his three missed threes, and he was shooting 50% from the field goal. Add in his 5-of-8 from the free throw line, and he had 27 points and 9 boards.
Not bad at all.
And Harden? Also solid. Limited minutes, but 5-for-9 shooting, 1-of-2 from three, perfect on four free throws. Fifteen points. Efficient and clean.
So… what went wrong?
Durant kept shaking his head. He couldn't figure it out either.
He knew he was the better scorer when matched up with Lin Yi.
But Lin wasn't just scoring. He was everywhere—quiet, efficient, and effective.
Why did this guy always seem to disappear when it was time to scout him and then pop up when it hurt most?
After three quarters, the Thunder were down by twenty-eight. 98 to 70. Home fans were already heading for the exits.
Lin Yi checked in for the first four minutes of the fourth, and once it was clear OKC had no shot at a comeback, Coach Brooks threw in the towel and sat his stars.
He wasn't happy.
From his point of view, it wasn't just the starters—it was the bench that let them down.
The Knicks' bench put up 50 points.
OKC's? Take away Harden's 15, and they had… 7.
Brooks made a mental note: he needed to have a chat with Presti. This squad had too much talent to be this thin. Something had to change.
...
On the Knicks bench, Lin Yi was deep in conversation with D'Antoni and the assistants, going over plays and tendencies.
"Hey Lin," D'Antoni grinned, "how'd you know once Russ went off, Durant wouldn't be able to get going?"
Lin smirked. The Knicks had just bagged their 29th win of the season. 29–8. Not bad for a team that was at the bottom of the standings just a year ago.
"Well," Lin scratched his chin, playing it off, "you ever hear about the whole Shaq and Kobe thing?"
That got the coaches' attention. All of them leaned in.
"When you've got two high-usage stars like that," Lin said, "there's only so many touches to go around. The Lakers back then? Shaq and Kobe ate up so many shots, no one else could get theirs."
"Same deal here," he continued. "Durant's the top scorer, yeah, but even he needs 20+ shots a game to get going. The thing is, a team only takes so many shots per game. So when Russ starts firing away like he did tonight, KD kind of fades out of the picture."
"Durant's not a shot-chaser. If Russ has the hot hand, KD's not the type to fight him for it. But the tradeoff is that Russ can end up dominating the ball—and not always efficiently."
D'Antoni nodded. "Yeah, 30 shots for 29 points isn't exactly ideal."
"Exactly," Lin said. "Before Harden came into his own, this team ran through Russ and KD. And Durant—don't get me wrong, he's efficient—but he's never been one of those guys who demands the ball like crazy."
"Think it's a physical thing?" one assistant asked.
Lin shook his head. "Not really. KD was playing 8–9 minutes more than most guys early in his career. It's more about his personality. He's a team-first guy. That's great when you've got balance. But when you don't—when the second option goes full volume shooter—it gets messy."
And that's why he fit so well with the Warriors later on, Lin added in his thoughts. Even if he wasn't in perfect sync with Steph and Klay, he didn't throw things off too much. He played within the system.
"But sometimes," Lin shrugged, "that unselfishness comes back to bite you. Like tonight. Russ had the ball, but they didn't have control."
D'Antoni chuckled. "So what you're telling me is—you want more shots?"
Lin grinned. "Hey, I'm just saying… when the time comes, I won't miss my chance."
He wasn't kidding.
Lin was one game away from a milestone. Once he hit silver-level in all five of his tracked metrics, he'd push to see just how far he could take this thing.
Up to now, he'd been riding his court IQ, exploiting mismatches, and using every bit of future basketball knowledge he'd brought with him.
But when it was time to stack numbers.
Yeah. He'd be ready.
Selfish?
Sure.
But smart too.
The Knicks were winning, and that made everything easier.
With a strong record, everyone had to admit it—Lin Yi wasn't just putting up empty stats. He'd taken the Knicks, who were dead last a season ago, and dragged them into playoff contention.
Even LeBron didn't manage that in his rookie year.
But Lin's goal? It wasn't just to win a scoring title—or two, or three… or even six.
He wanted to be the guy. The one who rewrote history.
The first step? Get through the mountain of numbers left behind by Michael Jordan.
MJ brought the Bulls to the playoffs in his rookie year. That man was built different.
So Lin had a plan:
Beat the strong. Level up. Pad the stat sheet.
That was the rookie-year blueprint.
...
Final score: 126–89. The Knicks thrashed the Thunder by 37 points on the road.
Lin Yi didn't even play the full game, and still led the Knicks with 25 points, 12 rebounds, 11 assists, and a handful of blocks. Another triple-double in the books.
That made four triple-doubles and a quadruple-double this season. No other rookie was even close.
"Think he can break Magic Johnson's rookie record? Seven triple-doubles?" Barkley asked on air.
"I don't know, man. Don't know," Kenny Smith muttered, not hiding how shaken he was. He was supposed to stay neutral, but it was getting harder to stay objective. Chuck figured Kenny had been mentally KO'd by Lin weeks ago.
...
After the game, Harden looked frustrated in his postgame interview.
Lin Yi had no idea he was leaving such a deep psychological mark on Harden, who was still just the team's sixth man.
Westbrook? Completely unbothered.
"We'll beat 'em next time," he said, upbeat. When someone asked about Lin Yi, Russ smiled and said, "He's good. Too bad he's not our teammate."
Russ was even happier when he heard Lin Yi called him the best defender in the league. He felt slept on when it came to his defense. Now? He was thinking, Why not Defensive Player of the Year? If KD gets scoring titles, maybe he could snatch DPOY.
Durant, though… Durant wasn't smiling.
He had a different look in his eyes—quiet, cold, competitive.
Even though Durant was leading the league in scoring, he couldn't seem to get the same buzz. In the West, Carmelo still had more hype. Duncan didn't care about votes, but if the Stone Buddhadid care, who knew how many fans he'd bring in? Nowitzki, Gasol—too many names.
KD wasn't even sure he'd be a starter in the All-Star Game.
Why wasn't anyone talking about him?
His game was flashy, smooth, and out of this world—but all anyone wanted to talk about was Lin Yi.
Then came the dagger.
A reporter from New York asked, "Kevin, after tonight, do you feel the gap between you and Lin Yi?"
Gap?
Bro, did you even watch the game?!
Durant nearly snapped.
He walked off the podium with one clear thought: next time the Knicks come around, he was taking the green light and never giving it back.
Durant was exhausted—mentally and emotionally.
...
Meanwhile, Russ had his coping method.
"Hey, forget it. Let's go get cake," he said, tugging on Harden and KD's sleeves. "That bakery just dropped a new flavor."
"Yeah," Harden sighed, "dessert makes everything feel better."
Durant said nothing, just nodded. At least he had these two with him.
No matter what, they'd figure it out.
We'll get there, Durant thought, clenching his fist. The future's still ours.