Knicks vs Celtics

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...

Nate Robinson had been in a pretty good mood lately.

Ever since he got traded to the Celtics, things had been looking up—steady minutes on the floor, a real shot at chasing a ring, and a winning culture he didn't have to imagine anymore.

And in Boston, Nate had toned down his usual antics. Not that he suddenly turned into a saint, but with the kind of veteran presence around him, it was smarter just to lock in and play ball.

The Celtics' big three weren't just names—they were institutions.

First, there was Paul Pierce, the face of the franchise. Nate never dared slip up in front of Pierce. Stories about The Truth and his infamous eleven stab wounds and still walking—weren't just urban legends in Nate's eyes. There was a quiet gravity around Pierce, and when he pulled up from three, it wasn't just a shot—it was a statement. Your uncle is always your uncle.

Then came Kevin Garnett. Now he was on a whole different level of intensity. Garnett wasn't just a leader—he was a straight-up force of nature. Most people around the league knew not to mess with KG.

And finally, Ray Allen—Mr. Smooth. Always composed, always professional, always in rhythm. But Nate, with his instincts honed from years of locker room politics, could tell: behind that gentleman's smile was a sniper. Ray didn't talk much, but he knew things.

And then there was Rondo, now widely considered the Celtics' fourth star. His personality was… well, let's just say unpredictable. Nate didn't exactly go out of his way to test him either.

Still, with all that talent around and the structure in place, Nate was having one of the best seasons of his career.

New York?

Pfft.

The Celtics were a well-oiled machine. In Nate's eyes, the Knicks were the busted-up bicycle he'd finally left behind.

But lately... the Knicks had started looking sharp. Real sharp. Word was, they might even leapfrog the Celtics in the standings.

Now that stung a little.

New York might've been chaotic, but it was still New York. The biggest stage. The loudest cheers. The brightest lights. Had he known the Knicks' rebuild would catch fire this quickly, maybe he'd have fought harder to stay.

And then just as he began to worry, the Knicks dropped a couple in a row.

"That's more like it," Nate muttered to himself.

But in a twist he didn't see coming, Boston followed suit with a skid of their own.

Even stranger, Coach Rivers kept rotating the squad. No panic. No dramatic shakeups.

That meant more playing time for Nate, and he wasn't going to waste it. He'd gotten to the practice facility early that morning to get some extra shots up.

"Morning, Nate," said Garren Big Baby Davis, waddling in with his signature belly-first strut.

Nate gave him a friendly nod. He believed in the old saying—people who smile often don't attract bad luck. And honestly, he wanted to make this Boston thing work long-term. Once you taste winning, it's hard to go back to mediocrity.

"You're in early," Nate said.

Garren sighed. "Don't even ask. KG's sitting out tonight, so I'm starting."

Nate raised his eyebrows. He kept his internal damn it to himself—dude hadn't started once since coming to Boston. Now, Garren was casually dropping that in?

This is motivation, huh? Nate thought.

Still, he kept it cool. "That's good news, man. You earned it."

"Yeah, but it's the Knicks tonight," Garren groaned. "I don't feel like getting cooked."

Only then did Nate realize he'd been so locked into practice lately that he hadn't even checked the schedule.

Knicks, huh?

He couldn't bring himself to hate them, not really. But he had to admit—life had been a lot better since leaving.

"We're only a game and a half ahead of them," Glen said, shaking his head. "They might overtake us for third in the East."

Nate scoffed. "Come on, man. We beat the brakes off them twice already this season."

Sure, the Knicks were looking better lately, but Nate didn't believe they had what it took to outplay the Celtics when it mattered.

Looking at Garren pacing around nervously, Nate chuckled to himself.

Afraid of Lin Yi? Seriously?

"Just 'cause the guy's tall doesn't mean he's Kareem," Nate muttered under his breath.

But deep down, even Nate had to admit—Lin Yi wasn't just tall. The kid could play.

...

March 17 – TD Garden Arena, Boston.

Doc Rivers stood on the sideline, staring at the scoreboard with a look of disbelief.

72 to 37.

Halftime.

And no, that wasn't a typo.

The visiting Knicks were beating the brakes off the Celtics in their own house.

Rivers glanced over at Garnett resting on the bench and thought, Maybe I should've held off on sitting him tonight…

He couldn't believe what he was seeing. The Knicks—this Knicks team—had completely blindsided them.

The first time the teams met, Rivers barely paid the Knicks any mind. Back then, it was all about Cleveland and Orlando. Those were the real threats in the East.

The second matchup raised his eyebrows a little. New York's record had started climbing, but Boston still handled them easily.

Now, this third game?

Rivers took it seriously. He gave Garnett the night off, but the rest of the crew was ready. Or so he thought.

Celtics fans at the TD Garden were stunned. They weren't used to this kind of beatdown, especially not at home.

The Knicks had drilled 15 threes by halftime.

Every shot felt like a cannon from the Knicks, and each one cracked a little more confidence out of the Celtics' defense. The fans were rattled. So were the players.

"This Knicks team, man…" Kenny Smith said during the halftime break on TNT.

"This is the Knicks," Barkley added, shrugging. "Not your grandpa's Knicks anymore."

The name Knicks had taken on a new meaning—unpredictable, explosive, even a little scary.

Meanwhile, Nate Robinson was fidgeting on the bench. He wanted in. Badly.

Not because he wanted revenge on his former team. No—he just didn't want to miss out on any playing time.

As the second half began, Nate kept glancing at Coach Rivers. He was practically yelling with his eyes, put me in with his eyes.

Eventually, Rivers gave him the nod. Nate checked in during the third quarter, hoping to bring some spark. But Rivers already knew the truth—his starters were gassed, and the Knicks were playing like it was Game 7 of the Finals.

So Rivers waved the white flag. He sat Pierce, Rondo, and Ray Allen.

But what Rivers didn't expect… was the look on Lin Yi's face the moment Nate checked in.

It was like Lin had just received a personal gift.

Lin thought, grinning. Didn't even ask for dessert, and he sends me Nate Robinson?

And then came the moment that would make the highlight reels.

With 9:11 left in the third, Lin Yi got the ball in the high post. Nate was stuck guarding him—all 5-foot-9 of him.

As Lin powered his way into the paint, the Celtics sent help, expecting a kick-out.

But Lin spun back, rose, and cocked the ball behind his head.

Nate didn't give up. Credit to him—he jumped, reaching up like he was trying to block out the sun.

BOOM!

The dunk echoed through the arena. Nate flew backward like a rag doll, landing near the Celtics cheerleaders, who gasped and scattered in panic.

It looked like Nate had been deleted.

Barkley let out a low whistle. "Man… that's just mean. Lin sent him to the next zip code."

It wasn't just a dunk. It was a tombstone.

For the Celtics crowd, this was the first time they'd seen the full force of Lin Yi's game up close. And it was brutal.

By the time the final buzzer sounded, Lin Yi had locked in his fourth straight triple-double:

29 points, 14 rebounds, 11 assists, 4 blocks, and 2 steals.

The Knicks had beaten the Celtics—for the first time this season—with a blowout score of 114 to 85.

After the game, fans couldn't stop talking.

"This… is really the Knicks?" someone said on the postgame

"Lin Yi's run is unreal," another added. "Four straight triple-doubles? Man's not playing around."

And poor Nate Robinson?

He picked up a new nickname.

The Praying Mantis.

Because, like the insect trying to stop a car, he tried to block Lin Yi and got flattened.

...

In the locker room afterward, Coach D'Antoni approached Lin with a half-smile.

"Be honest with me, Lin… Are you trying to break Jordan's record for most consecutive triple-doubles?"

Lin gave him a determined look. "Nah, Coach. I'm trying to do way more than that."

D'Antoni just sighed and shook his head.

But deep down, he knew—Lin Yi wasn't bluffing.

...

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