On the 15th, the Knicks didn't keep anyone waiting.
They took care of the Bobcats at home, 101–88, on the second night of a back-to-back. The offense wasn't sharp, but the defense carried them the whole way.
Win number seventy-three.
The record was gone.
In the 1995-1996 season, Michael Jordan led the Bulls to 72 wins. For years, that number felt untouchable.
Seventeen years later, the Knicks pushed past it.
Seventy-three.
On the broadcast, Webber laughed, "They've got one more home game left. Dolan better start printing new shirts. Seventy-two wasn't enough, seventy-three wasn't enough. At this rate, they'll need a new batch every few days."
That night, New York didn't sleep. The city felt loud, restless, alive. Inside the locker room, it was the same energy. Even if they lost the last three games, it wouldn't change anything.
They were already on top.
Messages poured in from everywhere.
At the postgame press conference, D'Antoni had to pause more than once. He tried to keep it together, but the emotion got through anyway.
Klay sat beside him, grinning like he'd just won the whole thing.
"We're not stopping here," Klay said. "We're gonna win a lot of championships. A lot."
He meant it.
He just didn't expect what came next.
. . .
In the hallway, Lin Yi walked up behind him and gave him a light smack.
Klay turned, stunned. "What was that for?"
Lin Yi looked at him, calm as ever. "There's a saying where I'm from. Don't pile on when someone's already down."
Klay blinked. "I wasn't talking about anyone."
Lin Yi nodded. "Exactly."
"…So why did you hit me?"
"Because you said it wrong."
Klay stared at him. "What does that even mean?"
Lin Yi folded his arms. "If you're going to say it, say it properly. Not one, not two, not three… don't even stop at five."
Klay froze for a second, then rubbed his face. "Alright. My fault. I was being too humble."
"Way too humble," Lin Yi said. "That kind of talk doesn't put pressure on anyone."
Klay laughed. "You're unbelievable."
Lin Yi shrugged. "I'm just trying to be respectful."
"Respectful?"
"Yeah. We stop LeBron in the Eastern Conference Finals."
Klay tilted his head. "How is that respectful?"
Lin Yi answered without hesitation. "If he loses earlier, he doesn't have to deal with another Finals loss. That's better for him."
Klay looked at him for a long moment. "You've got a very strange definition of kindness."
Lin Yi smiled. "I try."
. . .
With the record in hand, the Knicks took over every headline in both the U.S. and China.
For two straight days, it was nonstop coverage. Highlights, analysis, debates. Every angle, every platform.
Even the betting markets reacted. The major sportsbooks stopped taking bets on the Knicks winning the title. The odds had already dropped to the floor. No one wanted to keep offering a losing line.
At practice, the mood shifted.
There was confidence before. Now there was weight behind it.
Breaking seventy-two wasn't just another milestone. This was a record held by the Bulls' Dynasty and now belonged to them.
They had chased it all season, and now it was done.
From here on, whenever people talked about this team, that number would come up first.
Seventy-three.
. . .
The Knicks had been lucky in one key area this season. Health.
No major injuries, steady rotations, and a deep roster that held up across the season.
If it were up to D'Antoni, Lin Yi would've been sitting out the last three games.
Lin Yi didn't agree.
"Coach," he said, "my scoring average is already ahead of Michael."
D'Antoni nodded, waiting.
"If I sit now, people are going to say I'm protecting it. That I'm ducking games so it doesn't drop."
D'Antoni frowned slightly.
"That kind of narrative hurts my MVP case," Lin Yi added.
It was a clean argument. Hard to push back on.
D'Antoni knew what this season meant. A third straight MVP wasn't just possible, it was right there, looking at them in the face.
"Then manage your minutes," he said after a pause. "You don't need to go all out."
Lin Yi gave a small nod. "I'll handle it."
. . .
He didn't explain everything.
Seventy-three wins carried a reputation. Whether people believed it or not, Lin Yi didn't want to leave it at that number.
One more win, maybe two. That was enough.
On the surface, it looked like he was chasing individual records.
He wasn't.
Every extra game mattered.
Every minute on the floor added up for exp for his badges and positional stats.
If a future series came down to one possession, one game, one moment, he didn't want to be short on anything.
The excuse about public opinion worked on D'Antoni.
Since he knew nothing was going to take him off the floor, Lin Yi made up his mind early. He would play every game.
Three games didn't look like much on paper. Still, he treated them seriously. If a Finals series ever came down to Game 7, and he was just one step short of levelling up, that would be on him.
He was given this opportunity to play basketball; he wasn't going to waste it.
Breaking the record felt good. It should. But Lin Yi had no interest in watching the team drift through the last stretch like it didn't matter.
Because once the playoffs started, things would change.
The early rounds would likely be manageable. That wasn't the concern. The concern was something else.
They hadn't been in a real pressure game for a while.
In that road win against the Heat earlier in the season, that gap showed. When a team gets used to playing loose, flipping the switch isn't always instant.
It shows up in the worst moments.
A lot of blown leads in the league come from that exact problem. Teams think it's over, ease up, and then lose control.
He had seen it before.
Take the Miracle of Istanbul. If AC Milan had been up 2–0 instead of 3–0 at halftime, maybe Liverpool would never have found a way back. That extra comfort changed everything.
In this past life, where LeBron and the Cavs overcame a 3-1 series deficit also comes to mind.
Lin Yi let out a quiet breath as he watched his teammates talking about a championship parade like it was already scheduled.
His job right now was to keep things in check and not be on the wrong side of history.
. . .
On the 17th, the Knicks lost their seventh game of the season.
114–129, in Dallas.
The moment they got back to the locker room, Lin Yi didn't hold back.
He looked around, voice steady but sharp.
"Be honest. With that kind of performance, do you think we're winning anything?"
No one answered.
"Breaking the record doesn't mean we've won the title," he continued. "If that's how we're thinking, we're already in trouble."
A few players shifted in their seats.
"WAKE THE F**K UP!. A championship doesn't come easy!"
He paused, then added, "Think about what happens if we finish with the best record ever and still fall short. That's all people will talk about. Disappointment. Disgrace."
"All of New York heartbroken. We don't want that. We got to lock in."
The room stayed quiet.
"Everyone writes a self-review. One thousand words. Including me. We'll go through them tomorrow."
Klay blinked. "You're serious?"
Lin Yi glanced at him. "Very."
Then he finished, calm but firm.
"In this league, people remember champions and banners. Without that, nothing else matters. Respect every opponent. They want it just as much as we do."
. . .
The tone was different from him. Usually lighter, more relaxed.
This time, there was no room for that.
What no one else knew was that he had already written his own self-review.
He expected a loss in these last few games. D'Antoni had started rotating heavily. Add in the mood around the team, and a slip was almost inevitable.
Even if they had won out, he would've done the same thing after the first playoff loss.
Someone had to manage the emotional side of the team.
Favorites fall all the time. Not because they lack ability, but because they lose focus after the praise starts piling up.
It's easy to believe you're untouchable.
That was exactly why he stayed alert.
Truth was, the loss to Dallas wasn't even that bad. With several starters resting, they still played well. The other side just got hot from three. Some nights go that way.
But the result gave him an opening.
So he used it.
Two games left in the regular season. The outcomes didn't matter much.
What mattered was the mindset they carried into the playoffs.
Respect the opponent.
Stay sharp.
Do that, and the rest takes care of itself.
. . .
Please do leave a review and powerstones, which helps with the book's exposure.
Feel like joining a Patreon for free and subscribing to 30+ advanced chapters?
Visit the link:
[email protected]/GRANDMAESTA_30
Change @ to a