Link Beneath the Court, Link On the Court

The Memphis Grizzlies' situation today was far from reassuring. After half a quarter of play, the Pacers already led the Grizzlies by six points.

Up on the commentary desk, T.NT's Jeff Van Gundy and Chris Webber kept up a steady stream of jabs. "The roster composition of the Memphis Grizzlies is really something."

"Zach Randolph, nobody wanted him. O.J. Mayo, more arrogance than talent. Rudy Gay, trying to be a superstar. And Marc Gasol, just lukewarm... Look at these players. If the Grizzlies want to make the playoffs, they need to bulk up their lineup." Seeing Gasol Jr.'s shot clank off the rim again thanks to Hibbert, Webber couldn't help but tease.

"Bulk up the lineup? Yeah, the Grizzlies actually did that. They brought Link to Conseco Fieldhouse today. Hopefully this rookie signed to a 10-day contract can help the Grizzlies get through their rough patch, hahahaha." Van Gundy's words still carried a hint of mockery.

Last season, the Grizzlies failed to make the playoffs. This year, with the roster barely changed, people naturally didn't expect much improvement from Memphis.

An over-the-hill Allen Iverson was the biggest signing the Grizzlies had made in years. The Grizzlies were like the city of Memphis itself—always looked down on.

Just as Webber and Van Gundy were bantering, Danny Granger's pull-up mid-range jumper caught Rudy Gay off guard. The Pacers scored again, pushing the lead to eight points.

"Damn it!" Lionel Hollins barked, rising to his feet and calling a timeout.

If the gap stretched to ten points this early, it would be disastrous for the Grizzlies. After all, Memphis was a defense-first team. If the defense crumbled, the whole game would fall apart.

"Timeout called, Coach Hollins stops the game. But if you ask me, I don't think the Grizzlies have any real answers. They've lost three straight games. Their form has been shaky lately, and I don't see them suddenly turning things around."

Webber shook his head. A lottery team—that was his definition of the Grizzlies.

The moment the timeout was called, Link immediately crowded around the huddle, full of energy. Hollins had said he'd get into the rotation today, and now it was almost time for that rotation.

Rudy Gay sat down on the bench after coming off the court, asking a staffer for a towel and Gatorade. But he paid little attention to Hollins, who was down on one knee drawing up plays.

O.J. Mayo tilted his head. He'd scored six points in the first half of the quarter, which seemed to make him feel pretty good about himself. Losing wasn't his problem—the Grizzlies were a "trash team" anyway. He just needed to put up his numbers.

The starters could afford to ignore the head coach's instructions, zoning out. But players at the bottom of the roster like Link couldn't.

Anyone who watched NBA regularly knew the scene: during timeouts, while the head coach talked himself hoarse and the starters daydreamed, there were always a few guys in warm-up jackets, foreheads dry, with zero minutes played, crowding around the coach with a diligent look.

Without them, half of the coach's timeout instructions would fall into dead silence...

Lionel Hollins talked for a while but noticed Gay seemed completely indifferent. Whenever Gay got into that state, he'd start chucking up shots. On a good night, he could bury the opponent. But most of the time, it was the Grizzlies who paid the price.

So Hollins stopped mid-sentence, then waved a hand behind him without looking back.

"Link, get ready to go in!"

That finally got Rudy Gay to glance at his head coach. But unfortunately, it was already too late.

Link looked at his teammates in surprise, then squeezed through the outer ring of the huddle to stand beside Hollins. Gay and Sam Young both shot Link a glare, but Zach Randolph stepped in to break the tension.

"Relax, kid. Listen to what the coach says. If you mess up your positioning out there, I'll have your hide." Randolph said it while squeezing Link's shoulder. On the surface, it was a "threat," but really, he was telling Gay and Sam Young: "Link's under my protection."

"Listen, Link, I need you to guard Danny Granger. I'm not asking you to shut him down, but don't let him get easy shots. Lure him inside—Zach and Marc will help you! On offense, run the plays like we practiced. If you get an open three and miss it, I'm pulling you right out!"

Hollins gave Link a quick rundown, and Link nodded solemnly. When it came to executing the game plan, Hollins trusted Link more than Gay.

"Beeeeep!" The sharp buzzer rang through the arena, and the Pacers fans erupted in cheers.

At that moment, Link felt goosebumps all over his body. He'd played three games with the Rockets, but coming in during a critical moment was a completely different feeling from garbage time.

He took a deep breath, bent down, and touched the words "Rest in Peace, Zeke" stitched on the side of his shoes. Then he stepped onto the court.

"Kid, get back here!" The moment Link took his first step, assistant coach Elston Turner shouted. Then he heard laughter ripple through the stands.

"Huh?" Link turned around, confused. He thought his entrance had been pretty cool.

"What are you doing!? You forgot to take off your warm-up jacket! Take it off, and relax!"

Hearing Turner's words, Link finally realized he'd forgotten to shed his warm-up jacket and pants...

Well, his first appearance for the Grizzlies was a total flop.

"Hahahaha, that might be the most awkward entrance I've ever seen. Link, that Chinese-American forward who signed a 10-day contract with the Grizzlies, was so nervous he forgot to take off his warm-up jacket. Coach Lionel Hollins really thinks this guy can contribute?"

Van Gundy and Webber were cracking up on the commentary desk. On the Pacers bench, Jim O'Brien wore a mocking smile too.

After the laughter died down, O'Brien turned to George. "See? I told you. A guy like that won't make any difference in this game!"

Link was a little embarrassed at first, but the moment he peeled off the warm-up jacket and saw the number 0 on his chest, he steadied himself.

Stepping onto the court, his expression shifted. From humble and goofy to fiercely intense. Eighty percent of the people in this arena had no idea who Link was or where he'd come from.

But the moment they saw his yellow skin, the impression "this guy must be weak" had already lodged itself in their minds.

Danny Granger thought the same. Even Rudy Gay couldn't stop him today. Now they were swapping in some unknown yellow-skinned rookie? The only thing he'd do was feed Granger experience.

But in the luxury box, Larry Bird thought differently from most of the crowd. He narrowed his eyes, eager to see how Link would perform.

Bird was one of the few—the twenty percent—who knew something about Link. He knew this undrafted number 0 was no ordinary player.

"Grizzlies on offense, still slow-paced. Conley handles it steady—he really is a mature point guard for his age."

Under Webber's commentary, Conley crossed half-court. Link immediately went to work, cutting to the right wing beyond the three-point line to receive the ball.

Following the play, Conley passed it to Link. Granger didn't press up on him—he didn't see the need.

Link certainly wasn't about to take Granger one-on-one. Granger was at least an All-Star caliber player.

Instead, the Chinese-American number 0 lobbed the ball inside to Randolph posting up, then cut off the ball!

"Tch." Granger snorted. This kind of cut was way too simple. He stuck close to Link, denying him space to receive the ball. Just as expected from an undrafted rookie.

But the moment Link stepped into the paint, he suddenly reversed direction, sprinting back out to the three-point line! At the same time, Mayo and Conley started moving, drawing the Pacers' defensive attention.

Randolph passed the ball back to Link, who caught it just beyond the three-point line and raised it for a shot!

"Amateur trick!" Granger took two long strides forward. He admitted Link's back-cut was beautiful, but an attack like that couldn't beat him.

Granger stretched his long arm and leaped high. Nothing was more exhilarating than teaching a rookie a lesson with a volleyball-style block.

Yet as Granger waited in midair for Link to shoot, what he saw wasn't the basketball flying toward him—it was the ghost of a smirk on the Chinese No. 0's face.

The last player to see that smile was named Jon Brockman, and now he was already beaten into submission by Link.

"Fake shot—Link only made a fake shot! He drives, Granger is shaken off, the others are pinned down, Link's path to the basket is wide open!"

Van Gundy's words had barely landed when Link jumped for the layup. At that moment, Roy Hibbert rushed over, intending to block.

But in the air, Link—whose body had become lighter after the upgrade—managed a pull-up move, dodged the block, and dropped the ball through the hoop. Of course, Link's pull-up wasn't a picture of grace, but it was practical enough.

The moment the ball left his hand, Link was knocked straight to the floor by Hibbert. As soon as he hit the ground, he heard the referee's sharp whistle.

"The basket counts, and there's a free throw coming! Link earned an and-one opportunity the moment he stepped on the court! This... Coach Hollins' substitution showed its effect in the very first possession!"

After scoring, Link lay on the floor pumping his arms. When Randolph pulled him up, he gritted his teeth and shot a glare at Hibbert.

During the practice game, Link had fooled Randolph with almost the exact same move. Now, Hibbert became the second big man to fall for it.

It was then that people realized this yellow-skinned guy might not be someone to mess with. He wasn't soft—he was a true tough guy!

A real Memphis Grizzlies player!