After winning against the Denver Nuggets in that grueling, oxygen-deprived away game, the Boston Celtics suddenly seemed different.
No, to be precise, it is that this group of young people, who originally had their own thoughts and played on the field as if they were just going through the motions, have finally begun to shed their immature pricklyness and have begun to show some of the shrewdness that Lin Qi has forcibly molded into them.
From February to March, before the freezing rains of New England had completely thawed, these Boston lads, already donning Celtics jerseys, were creating a storm in arenas across the United States and around the world. They began winning like crazy.
This way of winning is completely different from the opening game, where the victory was achieved through youthful recklessness and the opponent's underestimation of the team; it is also completely different from the previous " Microwave Night," where the team relied on a player's sudden burst of good form and an unpredictable, extreme lineup.
That was a steady, methodical victory. They clearly showed you their tactical approach, yet the opponent still couldn't get to them in positional warfare.
The team's net efficiency curve, which had dipped during the harsh winter, has turned upwards again. And it's climbing higher and more steadily than before the winter.
Basketball media across the United States were once again thoroughly humiliated by the Boston Celtics' record.
Just a month ago, sports commentators were frantically typing out articles like " Boston's Castle in the Air: A Groundbreaking Experiment Has Failed," but recently they've been frantically deleting old posts while quietly changing their tune in their latest columns. The nauseatingly sycophantic praise of Boston's management in their writing gave even Lin Qi goosebumps.
The core of all these tactical shifts points to that 19-year-old giant.
Kevin Garnett.
"Chain reaction."
As Lin Qi leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window of the general manager's office, looking at the latest issue of Sports Illustrated, this word popped into his mind.
All that Garnett accumulated throughout the season... the fighting spirit and determination he forged against those historically great stars on the road; the low-post footwork he learned from McHale during summer camp; the detailed breakthroughs captured in Dominique Wilkins' videotapes; the shooting form he practiced Late Night; and the composure he gained from sitting next to the Chief every night.
For most of the season, whenever he stepped onto the court, he would sometimes try to force his way into the paint and sometimes try to show off his dribbling skills on the perimeter, playing like a half-baked player who couldn't fully integrate his skills.
But ever since that night when power and responsibility were reorganized and the core position was established, those scattered pieces of the puzzle suddenly found that one main axis. They were linked together, bursting out a chain reaction and working together wildly.
The speed at which Garnett was growing on the court surprised even Lin Qi watching from the sidelines.
In early March, the Boston Celtics faced Detroit on the road. Garnett established position in the low post, screened the defender behind him, and reached out for the ball.
Garnett was guarded by Otis Thorpe, the notoriously powerful center from Motor City, who immediately began to physically challenge Garnett, his eyes filled with the mocking gaze of a seasoned veteran looking down on a high school student.
In the first half of the season, if Garnett were to be bumped by Thorpe with this kind of subtle force, he would either lose his balance and be knocked out of the paint the moment he received the ball, leaving him with no choice but to hastily choose to take a fadeaway jumper; or he would act rashly and turn around in a back-to-the-basket situation, directly crashing into the opponent's well-designed defensive trap, delivering a solid traveling violation or charging violation.
This time, however, Garnett's center of gravity was extremely stable. He used his lower body to block Thorpe's leverage point, and the moment he received the ball, he didn't linger with the veteran at all. He directly used his left foot as a pivot, performed a sharp backflip and turned to face the basket. Before Thorpe could close in, he slammed his right foot into the ground, connecting with an extremely clean step-through breakthrough.
That's guard-level speed. Thorpe's lateral movement was too slow; he was instantly outmaneuvered by that step...
But as soon as he drove into the paint, Detroit's interior defense came crashing down on him, their two large hands almost completely blocking the rim.
The Pistons ' commentators drew out their voices, bracing themselves for a big block on Garnett.
However, Garnett had no intention of forcing the issue.
He simply scooped the ball into his arms as he moved, glancing sideways behind him. In the instant the opponents closed in, he flicked his wrist, delivering a perfectly timed bounce pass that slipped through the gap between the two defenders.
P.J. Brown received the ball on a cut and, without any extra movements, pulled up for a powerful two-handed dunk.
"Clang!"
The basketball hoop shook violently, and the entire arena fell silent instantly.
Positioning, facing the basket, jab steps, reading the defense, aerial passes. Not a single move was superfluous, not even his signature swaying gestures were gone. All the beatings he endured throughout the season, the personal lessons he received from legendary superstars, finally strung together seamlessly into a dazzling line in this ordinary away game.
The Detroit commentator froze in the broadcast booth, the sigh he hadn't uttered turning into a single, forced sentence:
"...Damn, are all high school students this good at basketball these days? He was like a veteran who'd been playing for ten years!"
Sitting in the first row of the away game, amidst the sighs of the Detroit fans, Lin Qi unscrewed his thermos and took a sip of hot tea, keeping his accomplishments hidden.
What pleased Lin Qi even more was that Garnett's breakthrough was creating a more terrifying synergy, driving the entire Celtics team forward.
This is also a chain reaction.
When Garnett learned to facilitate passes in both the low and high posts, the Boston Celtics suddenly gained a completely new and powerful pivot. Adelman's system, which heavily relied on inside passing, became increasingly fluid thanks to the complete alignment of Garnett as the pivot.
Sam Cassell no longer needs to initiate all the offense every night. He can simply pass the ball to Garnett and start running off-ball, playing his more comfortable cuts and spot-up jumpers.
Jones, Finley, and Person, these flank players, are getting more and more open opportunities thanks to the presence of two dealers, enjoying the most comfortable playing environment every night.
On the defensive end, Thibodeau's defensive network, which was still in the experimental stage, was becoming more and more like an airtight iron cage due to Garnett's abnormal switching and sweeping ability, as well as the other defensive resources in the team.
Once a team's chemistry crosses that critical point, its growth rate will no longer be arithmetic progression.
Every player's improvement amplifies the abilities of others. Every successful play lays the foundation for future teamwork. This Boston Celtics is like a snowball pushed down a mountain by Lin Qi himself, growing bigger and faster with each win.
As Lin Qi watched the group of young people celebrating wildly on the court, his business acumen clicked in his head... His gamble on draft night, the losses he made at the trade table, and all the resources he poured into the training camp he built for Garnett —those fragmented plans that were ridiculed by the American media at the time as "illogical"—were now coming together seamlessly this spring, paying him back with interest.
After a resounding victory in mid-March, Lin Qi ran into Garnett, who had just finished playing, in the somewhat dimly lit player tunnel.
The nineteen-year-old boy hadn't even showered yet, and his body reeked of sweat. A large towel was casually draped over his dark shoulders. He spotted his manager from afar, his already large eyes widening in shock. As he rushed over, he frantically pounded his chest, letting out a series of unintelligible, beast-like growls.
" Lin Qi! Did you see that play in the third quarter?!" Garnett suddenly jumped in front of Lin Qi, grabbed him by the neck, spitting almost into Lin Qi's coffee cup, his tone arrogantly domineering, "Those old guys used to try to trap me with their lower bodies, try to ass-bomb me, and all those defensive tactics... to hell with them! I understand them all!"
"Now I know how to deal with these old guys! There's nothing I can't learn in this alliance!"
The boy grinned widely, revealing a row of dazzlingly white teeth, his laughter both hysterical and utterly confident. "Just you wait, once I've seen through all these old geezers' dirty secrets and absorbed all their skills into this body... the entire league will tremble at my feet!"
Lin Qi was almost suffocating from the kid's long arms. He slapped away the sweaty arms with disgust and chuckled, "Alright, go take a shower. You stink like a Baltimore garbage can."
"Hehe!" Garnett wasn't angry at all. He threw two more punches at the air, then skipped and hopped towards the locker room, pulling a towel along as he shouted some weird tune of street black rap.
Lin Qi looked at the somewhat naive yet wildly untamed figure from behind and shook his head with a smile.
Garnett himself probably didn't realize that his arrogant confession just now had, in the most savage way, stepped on the ultimate blueprint that Lin Qi had planned for him from day one.
This kid thought he was just "stealing knowledge" and "getting revenge."
But Lin Qi knew that in this crucible built by historical superstars and sweat, Garnett was forcibly deconstructing the strengths of all the top centers of this traditional era, and then brutally and seamlessly stitching them onto himself.
He will not become the second the Mailman, nor the second the Dream, nor the second the Admiral.
He will become a completely new modern basketball species that combines the strengths of many schools of thought, yet is none of them.
An even more comprehensive and terrifying Garnett on both offense and defense—a player even Lin Qi's great " Minnesota Timberwolves the Big Ticket " might not have seen before.
Lin Qi didn't try to suppress the kid's arrogance. Instead, he sneered and met Garnett's wild eyes with his deep gaze.
"Wait until the day you've made up for all your shortcomings..."
Lin Qi paused, a hint of certainty and sharpness unique to transmigrators flashing in his eyes.
"It's time for that group of guys in this alliance to get together and figure out how to defend against you."
Garnett was taken aback at first, then a fierce and excited smile spread across his long face. Like a wolf stimulated by the smell of blood, he roared hysterically at the ceiling of the corridor.
"Let them come! I'll be waiting for them in Boston!"
After yelling, the kid ripped the large towel off his neck, slung it over his shoulder, grabbed his shoulder bag, and jogged towards the bus, muttering nervously about the details of how he had dominated his opponent on the defensive end that night.
Lin Qi watched the kid's swaying back, exuding an aura of arrogance and swagger, and shook his head with a smile.