The third game was here, as promised: the Lakers hosting the Nuggets again.
This wasn't just another game; it was the final game of Link's ten-day contract. Once the buzzer sounded, the Lakers organization would have to decide whether or not to offer him a longer deal.
According to NBA rules, a team can only sign a player to the ten-day contract twice. After that, if the team wants to keep the player, they must offer a guaranteed contract that lasts until the end of the season. Otherwise, the team loses the signing rights, and the player re-enters the free agent market.
For Link, who had just turned down an offer from the Spurs, this game was absolutely crucial!
Last time against the Nuggets, Link's four three-pointers and a clutch steal engineered a comeback win. This time, Denver was clearly prepared and wasn't going to make the same mistakes.
When Link checked in late in the first quarter, he immediately felt a completely different level of defensive pressure. His defender was glued to him like flypaper, constantly using their arms to disrupt him and fighting through every single screen. When he moved off-ball, another player always had an eye on him, ready to rotate and help out.
"You're done for, rookie."
Smush Parker muttered this with a hint of schadenfreude as he walked past Link during a dead ball.
Link ignored him.
He knew this was the NBA standard: once you show value, opponents will try to choke you out. This was a hurdle he had to clear.
For the entire first half, Link was practically invisible.
He air-balled two contested catch-and-shoot jumpers, and one attempt at a backdoor cut was ruined when a veteran defender anticipated it and cut him off. Furthermore, his defensive shortcomings were repeatedly targeted by Carmelo Anthony. When Link switched onto Anthony, it was like trying to stop a high-speed semi-truck; he was completely overwhelmed.
Link only played four minutes in the first half, and his stat line was completely empty—nothing but zeros.
The locker room atmosphere during halftime was heavy.
Even though the team held a slight lead, they had made a lot of errors in the first half, and there was no joy on anyone's face.
Link sat alone on a bench in the corner, burying his face deep in a towel.
4 minutes, 0 points, 0 rebounds, 0 assists, 1 foul.
Those cold, hard numbers stabbed at him. Panic started to creep up like a rising tide, threatening to engulf him.
The last game... if it ends with this performance, will the Lakers still keep me? Did I just push the Spurs' contract away with my own hands?
Link could almost see Mitch Kupchak and Phil Jackson shaking their heads. He pictured himself walking out of the Staples Center again with his beat-up gym bag.
His breathing grew ragged, and his fingertips felt cold. He wanted to prove himself so badly, and he was so afraid of losing this hard-won chance, that he was playing tight and hesitant.
Just as the negative emotions were about to swallow him whole, a low, familiar voice cut through the noise above him.
"If you're going to keep sulking like that, just pack your bags after this game and get out."
Link flinched and ripped the towel off his head.
Kobe Bryant was standing in front of him. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were as sharp as always.
"During the game, don't harbor any negative emotion. It's going to hurt the team," Kobe said. His voice was quiet, but it carried an undeniable force.
Link opened his mouth, trying to say something, but no sound came out.
Kobe didn't wait for a reply, continuing in a tone that was almost clinical.
"Forget the damn contract. That's not what you should be thinking about right now. All you need to do is run to the right spot and play defense on every single possession. The rest is up to God."
Kobe finished, didn't look at him again, and walked straight to his own locker.
No encouragement, no comfort—just pure Kobe, delivering a brutal truth.
But those words hit Link like a lightning bolt.
He realized he had been playing with a heavy weight, constantly thinking about the contract, his future, and what others thought of him. How could he possibly play well?
Link took a deep breath and shook his head hard.
The panic and jumbled emotions began to recede. Kobe was right; he couldn't control the front office's decision, only his own effort.
Forget the contract, forget the stats, just focus on the game in front of me and execute every single play!
When the whistle blew to start the second half and Link stepped back onto the court, his eyes were completely different. The confusion and anxiety were gone, replaced by a resolute focus—a "do or die" determination.
The Nuggets' defense was still suffocating, and Link found it hard to get a look at the basket. But he stopped rushing. He ran with patience, using his teammates' screens to stretch the defense, never stopping his movement even when the opportunity wasn't there.
As a famous basketball coach once said, "If players keep moving, they can do anything."
And the opportunity finally arrived late in the third quarter!
Kobe drew a double-team and kicked it out to Odom at the top of the key. Odom faked a drive and passed it to Link, who had sprinted around a screen.
The moment Link caught the ball, he anticipated his defender's lunge. As the defender flew past, Link sold a convincing pump fake, then dribbled one step to his left, locked his eyes on the hoop, and rose up for the shot.
\[Focused Shooter Lv1] Activated!
The ball left his fingers, tracing a perfect arc in the air.
"Swish!"
Nothing but net!
The Staples Center erupted in a massive roar!
It was like a curse had been broken. Link pumped his fist hard, letting all the accumulated pressure escape with the made shot. As he ran back on defense, his eyes met Kobe's on the sideline. Kobe didn't react, but gave him the faintest, almost imperceptible nod.
With the shot falling, Link played completely loose. His movement became more aggressive. He ran a baseline backdoor cut and got the pass for a layup attempt. He missed the shot due to contact but drew the foul for two free throws.
He calmly sank both.
On the defensive end, he was playing with renewed intensity. Though still physically overmatched, his anticipation and footwork allowed him to draw two offensive fouls on the Nuggets.
When Link was substituted out late in the fourth quarter, his final stat line was: 2-for-5 shooting, 2-for-2 free throws, for 7 points, 1 rebound, and 1 steal.
The numbers weren't flashy, but anyone who watched the game knew how valuable those 7 points were. Link's ability to adjust and bounce back even earned a slight nod from Phil Jackson on the sideline.
The final buzzer sounded: 89-87. The Lakers had defended their home court again.
Link stood on the court, breathing heavily, his jersey soaked with sweat.
The ten-day contract was officially over.
He took a deep breath. His eyes no longer held the panic from halftime. He had done the very best he could do in that moment.
Just like Kobe said, the rest was up to God.