LeBron's eyes stayed glued to the screen. He pointed toward Lin Yi on the broadcast and said to Wade, "I'm guarding him."
Wade glanced at him, mid-sentence. "But, LeBron—"
LeBron lifted a finger, cutting him off. "Dwyane, I couldn't have done this back in Cleveland. You know why — taking on that kind of defensive load drains you. It eats up energy, it kills your rhythm, and your offensive touch suffers for it."
Wade nodded slowly, knowing he wasn't wrong.
"But now?" LeBron continued. "It's different. You can carry the main scoring load. I can be the one to set the tone defensively. If I can slow Lin down, we choke off their biggest weapon. And if we match their defensive intensity on both ends, I don't see us losing to the Knicks."
People call LeBron arrogant, but it's not that simple. He just has a clear sense of priority — and a knack for choosing the path with the highest chance of victory.
In his Cleveland days, when the game was on the line, he'd make the smart play, even if it wasn't the flashiest. When his legs began to feel the years later in his career, he'd step back and let someone like Kyrie run the show, because he understood tempo and timing better than anyone.
This was another one of those moments. A calculated decision.
Right now, the Knicks' defensive wall was too solid to crack head-on. If he couldn't dominate offensively, he'd make his mark on the other side of the ball.
"Chris will be there to back you on offense," LeBron told Wade. "If I can clamp Lin, our odds in the Christmas game go way up."
Wade gave him a look equal parts admiration and concern. "That's a hell of a sacrifice, man."
LeBron's jaw tightened. "If I could put up numbers and still beat them, trust me, I would. But against this Knicks defense? I'm not walking through a brick wall just to prove a point."
.
Back in Madison Square Garden was buzzing, Celtics coach Doc Rivers signaled for a timeout.
The scoreboard read 9–5. Just a four-point gap, but Rivers wasn't looking at the numbers. His eyes were on Garnett.
Lin Yi had been relentless, leaning on Garnett possession after possession, forcing him to battle every inch. KG's legs were getting heavier, his steps a fraction slower. Basketball might be a game of bursts, but when you're going full throttle on every possession, the fatigue can feel more like running a punishing middle-distance race than a quick sprint.
Rivers leaned in. "Kev, you need a breather."
Garnett, gasping but defiant, shook his head at first — then, with a clenched jaw, conceded. "Fine. Just a minute."
Out came the veteran, in came Big Baby Glen Davis, his face set in a mix of determination and regret. At nearly 300 pounds, the idea of chasing Lin Yi around the floor was… less than appealing.
When play resumed, Davis caught Lin Yi's stare — and swore he saw a glint in his eye. Was that… hunger?
If the Celtics wanted to hand Lin Yi a mismatch gift, he wasn't going to politely decline.
The next Celtics possession ended in disaster: Rondo, sagged off by Billups, pulled up from deep and clanged the shot so badly it didn't touch the rim.
Air ball.
Billups corralled the rebound and immediately pushed the pace, already scanning for the weak link.
He didn't need long to find it. One quick signal and the floor cleared, leaving Lin Yi with Davis in space.
No wrestling match in the paint this time — Lin Yi gave a light tap dribble with his right, then pulled back to size him up. Davis shuffled uneasily, trying to mirror him, but Lin Yi crossed over and exploded past on the left.
Perkins slid over to contest, but Lin Yi's pass found Chandler in stride.
Bang!
The Garden erupted as Tyson Chandler hammered the dunk through, the rim rattling in protest while Davis could only turn and watch.
11–5. The Knicks were already stretching the lead.
On the Celtics sideline, Doc Rivers rubbed the back of his neck, the early pressure gnawing at him. If this was what a regular-season meeting felt like, what hope would they have against this team in a playoff series?
He muttered to himself, Danny's got to find us a mobile four… someone who can run with these guys.
Garnett was forced to come after a few possessions. Not that it helped.
Lin Yi was relentless — a young star with no hesitation about grinding down veterans. Every post-up, every drive, every rotation forced Garnett to spend a little more energy, and the close-up shots of KG's weary face felt almost cruel. On couches across the country, Boston fans shifted uncomfortably, as if they could feel their knees ache.
By the end of the first quarter, the scoreboard read 29–21 in New York's favor. Lin Yi's line wasn't heavy— 8 points, 4 boards, 3 assists — but his fingerprints were all over the game.
And Tony Allen? He was glued to Ray Allen like a shadow, refusing him even a sliver of daylight. Watching from the bench, Rivers found himself quietly regretting letting Ainge walk away from Tony in the past.
Three million? That's a steal, he thought bitterly. Even Danny misses sometimes.
.
In Miami, Wade had gone quiet, eyes locked on the screen.
"What's on your mind?" LeBron asked.
"This defense," Wade said, shaking his head. "Even if I'm our main option, breaking them down isn't going to be simple. They close the space too fast."
The Knicks' length and coordination were suffocating. Their zone made straight-line drives almost pointless, and the combination of Lin Yi and Tyson Chandler seemed to stretch from one sideline to the other.
"We're gonna need a shooter," Wade finally said.
LeBron didn't hesitate. "Yeah. Without one, the floor shrinks. And if the floor shrinks, they'll just sit back and wall us off."
They watched as Boston struggled through the same problem. Ray Allen's shot was their lifeline, but Tony Allen chased him everywhere, denying touches. When Pierce went into isolation, Gallinari stayed in front of him one-on-one, and the Knicks lived with it.
"We've got to make it work, somehow." Wade said.
The two of them fell into silence again, each lost in thought.
.
Back at the Garden, Rivers was feeling the same frustration — but with a sharper edge. The danger with New York wasn't just their starters. Even their bench was dangerous.
Tonight's reserve frontcourt featured rookie Hassan Whiteside alongside Shane Battier, Wilson Chandler on the wing, Lou Williams at the two, and Shaun Livingston running the point.
Lou Williams was the weak link defensively, sure, but the man could score in bunches, and against Boston's slower second unit, that was enough to swing momentum.
We can't just bleed possessions and hope they fade, Rivers thought.
He scanned his bench, eyes darting from face to face, until they landed on a familiar figure — headband on, leaning back, staring into space like a man in the middle of a life decision.