Immediately after TNT's record-breaking special aired, a massive media storm swept through the North America sports world.
Lin Qi's candid remarks on the show ignited a public debate. Interestingly, the reactions from the American media were polarized.
The Chicago media was naturally outraged. The Chicago Tribune's headline was full of attacks. "What right does he have to judge our scoring champion?!" The article criticized Lin Qi for erasing individual heroism with boring team basketball.
However, in Los Angeles, far away on the West Coast, the media and fans reacted very differently.
The Los Angeles Times ' sports column not only failed to defend Kobe in the slightest, but instead displayed a smug sense of revenge. Their front-page headline read, " Boston's suspended owner speaks for Los Angeles fans!"
The article was extremely scathing. "Thank God, and thank Lin Qi! He perfectly captured that obsessive '1v9' guy! Chicago, now you know how much we suffered back then, right? If it weren't for him ignoring open teammates and relentlessly shooting over three players in that year's NBA Finals, Los Angeles would have won the championship! Chicago, have a great time working with this so-called 'GOAT'!"
The Los Angeles media's defection and ridicule added fuel to the fire, completely enraging Kobe's large and extremely fanatical "extreme individual fan group".
When these extreme fans discovered that many media outlets were mocking their idol, a morbid, even violent, protective instinct erupted. And at the center of the storm was, naturally, Lin Qi's Boston Celtics.
At 6:30 a. m., Frank, the security chief at Boston's New Garden, was awakened by a piercing alarm and the loud crash of shattering glass.
When he rushed to the main entrance plaza of the stadium with several riot police officers, the scene before him made him gasp in shock.
The large Celtics team poster that originally hung on the exterior wall of the arena was splashed with a large amount of glaring red paint, and even a partially burned homemade Molotov cocktail was thrown at it. On the still-wet paint, someone used black spray paint to scribble highly aggressive slogans: "FK LIN!", "I'll kill you sooner or later!", "Slit your throat."
Furthermore, the two large tempered glass doors at the main entrance of the stadium were smashed by several fanatics with baseball bats, leaving huge spiderweb-like cracks. One of the glass doors was completely shattered, and shards of glass glittered in the dim morning light.
Amidst the shattered glass lay several charred metal barrels containing half-burnt Celtics jerseys. A pungent smell of gasoline permeated the air. Had security personnel not arrived in time, the fire could have easily spread into the arena's lobby.
"It was a group of young men, about seven or eight, driving unlicensed Ford, all wearing Kobe jerseys, some even with their faces covered," the Boston Police Department chief said to head coach Rick Carlisle, who had rushed over, standing outside the yellow police tape. "We reviewed the surveillance footage; they were acting like madmen while banging on the door, some even tried to throw bricks into the lobby."
"These incomprehensible bastards." Rick Carlisle's face turned ashen as he looked at the mess and the malicious graffiti.
"That's not the worst part, Mr. Rick Carlisle." Security supervisor Frank approached, his face pale, and handed over a heavy cardboard box. "This morning, the girl in the mailroom was terrified and cried. These are the packages we just sorted out."
Rick Carlisle opened the cardboard box and glanced inside, immediately feeling a wave of nausea wash over him.
The cardboard box contained not only dozens of death threats spelled out with letters from newspapers, but also a dead rat with its throat slit and a photograph of Lin Qi soaked in red ink. Most chillingly, in a transparent plastic bag, was a Celtics logo marked with a large red X, next to which were six 9mm pistol Bullets.
"Call the police! Contact the FBI immediately!" Rick Carlisle took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. "For the next few weeks, security at the arena will be at its highest level. All players and staff must use the underground passage; no one is allowed to move around alone!"
At nine o'clock in the morning, the Celtics players arrived at the training facility one after another. They were all required to enter through the dedicated passage in the underground parking garage, but they could clearly see the mess on the main entrance plaza from the news.
The atmosphere in the locker room was somewhat heavy. The real threat of violence made many of the young players feel uneasy.
"They actually dared to smash the windows of New Garden in Boston," Dwyane Wade said in a low voice as he changed his shoes. "I heard that our switchboard phone lines were forced to be unplugged, all because of death threats from Chicago."
"A bunch of cowards who only know how to hide in the shadows." Chris Paul Pierce sat in front of the cabinet, scoffing with obvious disdain. "They smashed the windows because on the basketball court, their idol, whom even his teammates despise, couldn't do anything to us."
Head coach Rick Carlisle walked in, holding a freshly printed schedule for the second half of the season. He glanced around the locker room, then slammed his marker on the tactical board, drawing everyone's attention.
"I think you've all seen what's happening outside the gate." Rick Carlisle's voice remained as stern and calm as ever, which greatly stabilized morale. "The boss said some controversial things on television, and those words tore away the last fig leaf for some people, so they can only smash windows like impotent, furious monkeys."
Rick Carlisle wrote the words "FOCUS" in large letters on the tactics board.
"Don't respond to the media." Rick Carlisle turned to his players. "For the upcoming games, we'll face much louder boos than usual on the road. Don't cause any trouble. Listen, you'd better listen to me... Take responsibility for your own safety."
Meanwhile, in a quiet private residence not far from downtown Boston.
Lin Qi, currently on "mandatory leave," sat on the sofa in the living room, dressed in comfortable loungewear. A steaming cup of coffee sat in front of him, and the news was playing on the television.
"They're quite proactive."
The news footage quickly switched from Boston to Chicago. A local sports channel reporter was conducting a random live interview outside a street court in Chicago South Side (a notorious gang district).
In front of the camera, a young black man wearing an oversized Chicago Bulls Kobe jersey and a thick gold chain around his neck snatched the reporter's microphone, waving his arms arrogantly and speaking in the gangster slang unique to the streets of Chicago.
"Listen, man. Kobe is a god in this city, on the court! That squinty-eyed guy in Boston (beep...) better shut his stinking mouth!"
A piercing silencing sound came from the broadcast signal. The young Black man made a shooting gesture at the camera, his eyes fierce. "What bullshit did he spout about one against nine? Nah, I'll tell him, if he dares to step into Chicago South Side, it's not one against nine, it's 187 ( California criminal code for murder)! He better have his men keep an eye on him, or he'll get what's coming to Chicago..."
The video abruptly cut off.
The television screen instantly switched back to the news studio. The white male anchor, dressed in a suit, looked grim and frowned as he apologized to the camera. "We apologize to our viewers for the racist language and extreme threats of violence that appeared during our live broadcast. This constitutes felony intimidation, and the Chicago Police Department is currently investigating. This is escalating into a violent crime with no moral boundaries."
Lin Qi stared blankly at the anchor's solemn face on the screen, then picked up his phone from the coffee table and dialed a security company's number.
" Mark, it's me." Lin Qi's tone was very calm. "I need to upgrade my family's security protocol immediately."
On the other end of the phone, the security company manager's voice was serious and professional. "We have been monitoring the situation closely, Mr. Lin. Given the substantial threat to your personal safety you currently face, we recommend immediately activating the 'red level' protection plan. From now on, you, Ms. Finneran, and your two children will each be provided with a full-time, concealed firearms licensed special operations team for 24/7 protection. Your family vehicle will also be replaced with a B6-level bulletproof SUV within two hours. Rest assured, you are being served by our company's top team."
"Very good, execute to your highest standards. I don't want any idiots in jerseys coming within fifty yards of my family."
After hanging up the phone, Lin Qi turned to look at his fiancée Beth Finneran, who had just come down from the children's room on the second floor.
Beth's face was deathly pale. She walked quickly to the sofa and glanced at the police statement playing on the television screen, along with the threats made by the Chicago youth.
"Lin, this isn't just ordinary fan rioting." Beth frowned, her eyes filled with worry, and sat down next to Lin Qi. "I just spoke with a friend who works at the district attorney's office. Those extreme fans have completely lost their minds; they just need a trigger."
Beth took a deep breath and uttered a name that sent chills down the spines of everyone in the sports industry. "Do you remember Monica Seles?"
Lin Qi frowned; he really didn't recall this.
"In 1993, Seles, then the world's number one tennis player, dominated Germany star Graf in a match. During a break in one set, a crazed Graf fan rushed onto the court and stabbed her in the back." Beth's voice trembled slightly. "The assailant didn't even know Seles; he just felt Seles had 'hurt' his idol, and he wanted to punish her."
Beth gripped Lin Qi's wrist tightly. "And there's Escobar, the Colombia player who was shot and killed by gangsters in 1994 for scoring an own goal... Lynch, sports fanaticism combined with gang culture or paranoid personality disorder is terrifying. Sending handgun Bullets and dead rats to the team is an extremely dangerous sign. Who knows, some idiot with a screw loose might try to 'defend' his idol by hurting your family."
Feeling the cold sweat on his fiancée's palm, Lin Qi grasped her hand in return.
"I've already contacted a professional security company," Lin Qi explained the contents of the phone call. "Within two hours, armored vehicles and a special operations team will take over all our travel routes. Whether you're going to the law firm or the children are out, they'll have 24/7 protection."
Hearing about these strict measures, Beth's tense nerves relaxed slightly. She sighed and rested her head on Lin Qi's shoulder.