From the
National Post.
TORONTO — Somewhere in the vast and sudden storm that has gathered around Jeremy Lin — an electrical hurricane that whipped out of a clear blue sky, so powerful that at this point nearly everybody has heard about the incredible weather out East — there is a human story, a story about luck, a story about faith, and above all, basketball. Used to be, Jeremy Lin was a footnote to just about everybody. Now, he contains multitudes.
And so Tuesday, when Jeremy Lin and his New York Knicks — they are his, right now — arrived in Toronto, the storm travelled with him. It was announced he is on the cover of this week’s Sports Illustrated. At the packed morning shootaround a journalist of Taiwanese descent proffered a sheet of Year of the Dragon stamps, in honour of his birth year and 2012. Some 4,000 seats had been sold since Friday for Asian Heritage night; it was Toronto’s biggest crowd of the year, and it cheered Lin the first time he touched the ball, and every time he scored.
But once the game started it was just basketball, and Lin looked like an exhausted young man. He was forced to his left, missed shots, turned the ball over five times in the first half. At the other end, Toronto’s Jose Calderon was killing him, splashing jumper after jumper. Oddly, some of the crowd began to boo Lin when he had the ball. People started tweeting that the so-called Linsanity was over. Lin kept grinding — and this turned into a prison-yard game full of contact and falls — but missed four free throws in the fourth quarter alone. The Knicks were down 86-77 with 4:03 left.
But with just over a minute left and New York down three, Lin faked a charging Linas Kleiza out of his socks, drove right at Amir Johnson — who had been blocking shots all night — hung on him in the air, and completed a big-boy three-point play to tie the game at 87. Something was swirling.
And after a Toronto miss, and a late New York offensive rebound, Lin had the ball at centre court with the shot clock turned off, and the crowd stood and roared like the ocean. Lin looked back at Knicks coach Mike D’Antoni. Was he asking if the coach wanted a timeout? “Actually, admitted Lin, grinning a little sheepishly, “I was asking if I could have an [isolation play].” It was his fifth career start. It was the definition of fearlessness. D’Antoni nodded.
And Lin waited, and the crowd howled, and Calderon backed off, and Lin launched a three-pointer that smashed through with 0.5 seconds left. Practically perfect.
In his fifth career start, Lin finished with 27 points on 9-of-20 shooting, 11 assists, eight turnovers, and another chapter in a story that continues to defy credulity. He was asked if he could believe this was happening to him. He smiled again. “No,” he said.
“I’m just glad it went like this so we could calm the Linsanity down a little bit,” cracked D’Antoni, before comically rolling his eyes.
“I can’t really explain it,” said Amar’e Stoudemire, who scored 21 points in his first game with Lin.
Stuff like this is why Jeremy Lin’s existence had become a forensic investigation. How a skinny kid with Taiwanese parents in Palo Alto, Calif., could not procure a college scholarship, got into Harvard, majored in economics and excelled on the court, but went undrafted after four years. How he spent a year on Golden State’s bench, how two NBA teams waived him, how he wound up as New York’s fifth point guard, how he was one Baron Davis injury setback from being set adrift again. How he was sleeping on his brother’s couch when the Knicks ran out of options, threw him out there like bait, and watched open-mouthed as he became a star.
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