SECOND HALF BEGINS
Blake came out aggressive in the second half. He stepped out to the 45-degree angle in his first possession and called for the ball. But instead of the Wildcats' power forward Anthony Beasley guarding him—it was Lin Yi standing there.
You could feel the silence in the arena.
Even the cheerleaders froze, hands over their chests like they were trying to calm their racing hearts.
Basketball is a game of split seconds. Blink and you miss it.
Lin Yi and Blake? Not so different.
Blake was a point guard growing up, believe it or not. His handle wasn't as flashy or graceful as Lin Yi's, but it was solid—effective.
And Lin? He knew exactly what Blake was trying to do.
Blake used to go iso a lot before the injuries caught up. And while some big men in history were overhyped, Blake was the real deal—natural talent, physical gifts, the whole package.
Makes you wonder: what if Doc Rivers hadn't turned him into a muscle warrior like Dwight? What if he'd let him grow his game instead?
Blake faked right, and exploded off the first step—it was quick. But the second burst? Not so much. That's the usual big-man flaw—three steps, then you're lagging.
Lin was ready. Slid left, and cut off the drive.
Blake spun and tried to back him down. No help from the Wildcats. No movement from Blake's team, either. It was a one-on-one showdown.
Strength was Blake's edge—but this wasn't the same Lin Yi from before. The dude had been in the lab.
Blake tried to muscle in, turned, and launched a left-handed hook.
Smack
Lin Yi sent that thing flying. Clean block.
Terry Rollins always said: if you don't know what your opponent's up to, let them make the first move. Draw them in. Make them think they're in control.
Blake took the bait.
Lin knew him inside and out. Blake? Still figuring Lin out.
....
The crowd started chanting Lin's name.
LIN YI
LIN YI
Scouts in the stands fell quiet. Nobody was saying Lin Yi was better than Blake. Hell, Hansbrough dominated college in their era too. But Lin's defense and feel for the game? That was something.
If he could get stronger, jump higher, and react quicker… could he dominate at the next level?
...
The Sooners came back with another fast break. Griffin slammed it home, even with Lin contesting. Sometimes pure power wins.
Then it was Lin's turn.
Curry passed him the ball without hesitation.
He knew Lin wasn't gonna let that last dunk slide. He was going to answer.
The gym went silent again.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Lin Yi started bouncing the ball.
It wasn't the ideal moment to complete his sneaker endorsement task—hit a stepback three on Griffin—but still, he locked in.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
His dribble sped up.
Then suddenly, he yanked the ball to his right hand. Dropped his shoulder like he was about to blow by on that side.
Griffin bit. Shifted with him.
Shammgod—sike. Lin pulled it back, hard.
Now he was heading left. Blake tried to recover, eyes scanning, trying to read Lin's next move.
Then it happened—his right foot slipped on sweat on the floor.
"Ah, crap—"
Lin snatched the ball back to his right hand.
Griffin lost balance—boom, landed on his butt.
"Oh my God!" Reggie Miller screamed from the broadcast table.
Dale Curry stared at the ceiling, jaw dropped.
"This… this is The Answer!"
Everyone in the gym, and fans watching at home, were stunned.
Not just because Lin was 7-feet tall. Not just because he made Blake Griffin fall. But because the whole move—was Allen Iverson's signature crossover. Done to perfection.
Stephen Curry's face lit up.
AI's killer crossover that broke ankles worldwide. And Lin Yi had just brought it back. At the NCAA level. At his height.
He finished it off with a one-handed jam that rattled the rim and shook the entire gym.
The place exploded.
"Did that just happen?"
"No way…"
"I need a replay…"
Scouts were scrambling to take notes. No one cared that Blake fell anymore. All they could focus on was that Lin Yi just did that at his size, with that fluidity.
As Blake sat on the court, stunned, Lin walked over and extended a hand.
"I saw you read my move. Did you step on some sweat?"
Blake let out a grunt and stood up without help.
Lin just smiled.
But he noticed something—Blake didn't look frustrated anymore. In fact… he looked fired up.
He's not thinking I'm gonna take his top spot now, is he? Lin wondered.
Game resumed. Blake came right back and scored again.
Next play, Lin answered with a hook of his own.
The back-and-forth continued until Coach McKillop finally called timeout.
The score was tied—56-56. Wildcats hadn't gained much ground. Lin was starting to slow down.
McKillop sighed. This one-on-one duel wasn't sustainable.
Yeah, Lin made him fall. But Griffin was still Griffin.
And Lin might be unguardable—but they couldn't guard Blake either.
Why burn out their big man?
They had another ace up their sleeve.
"Stephen, next possession's yours," McKillop said.
Curry grinned. "About time!"
He slapped Lin Yi's shoulder. "Forget that Answer stuff, man. You even tried to add that little spin back too?"
Lin Yi chuckled. "Couldn't help myself."
"Take a breather. I got this," Steph said, heading back to the court.
Lin Yi leaned back on the bench, catching his breath.
So this is what it's like to have a friend and a teammate, he thought.
Curry smiled as he jogged up the court.