Chapter 177: A Group of Old Bachelors' Envy, Jealousy, and Hatred
Six minutes into the first quarter, Kevin Durant broke free with a screen and sank a three-pointer, his first of the game. The Ford Center crowd exploded, sensing the Thunder's momentum shifting.
The Knicks hit back fast. Lian Dao darted off a run, caught Paul Millsap's crisp pass outside, and fired a three-pointer. The net snapped, and the fans' cheers faded to murmurs.
Lian Dao off the ball was a nightmare for defenses. His scoring erupted when he didn't need to run the offense. In the NCAA, he'd dominated like this, but some fans and coaches overlooked his college tapes. Early with the Knicks, Chris Duhon's shaky playmaking forced Lian Dao to handle the ball, which capped his scoring. Jrue Holiday's arrival changed everything. As a second playmaker, Holiday let Lian Dao focus on attacking. Their game against the Charlotte Hornets showed it—Lian Dao's points piled up effortlessly.
The Rockets game was a different story. Aaron Brooks, the scrappy guard, caught fire, draining six three-pointers, some while falling off-balance. Holiday shut down his normal shots, but Brooks' wild tosses still dropped. Then Trevor Ariza and Luis Scola heated up, their hot hands spreading like a virus. By the third quarter, the Knicks were down 28 points. Coach D'Antoni pulled the starters in the fourth, calling it quits. Lian Dao itched to fight, but D'Antoni stopped him. "Don't sweat one regular-season loss," he said, his voice firm.
Back in Oklahoma, the Thunder's defense tightened. Scott Brooks' sideline roars lit a fire under them. The Knicks' shots got rushed, and two straight misses let the Thunder close in.
Score: 13-18.
The Thunder trailed by five. The Knicks needed a hero to steady the ship. Lian Dao had been that guy before, and he was ready again. But he spotted Holiday sneaking to the corner three-point line, ignored by defenders. Westbrook, drawn to Lian Dao's drive, left Holiday to double-team inside.
Westbrook's defense was a riddle. His hustle was fierce, but he'd lose his man chasing help defense. Sometimes, he seemed to play by his own rules. Lian Dao saw the gap, faked a layup, and zipped a pass to Holiday in the corner.
Holiday rose and shot. The ball swished.
Score: 13-21.
Holiday's three stretched the lead to eight. A bigger gap boosted the Knicks' swagger, letting them shoot with confidence. Losing that edge could sting, inviting a comeback.
"Nice one, Jrue!" Lian Dao yelled, slapping Holiday's hand.
"Defend! Defend!" Lian Dao shouted, pumping up the team.
The Knicks clamped down, their defense suffocating. The Thunder botched a pass. Lian Dao snatched Durant's toss and kicked off a fast break. He spun past Durant, weaved through Westbrook's grab, and hit the rim. In mid-air, he dodged Westbrook's block, bounced the ball off the backboard, and David Lee, trailing, snagged it for a one-hand slam.
The crowd groaned, the dunk a gut punch.
Jeff Green clanked a jumper, and Lee grabbed the rebound, tossing it to Lian Dao. Holiday was already sprinting, but Westbrook kept pace. The Thunder were wise to the Knicks' long passes now—a lob could get picked off.
Lian Dao stopped short outside the three-point line. Durant stayed tight, blocking his shot. Westbrook, drawn in, moved to double-team. Lian Dao didn't blink. He whipped a no-look pass to Holiday, cutting inside. Durant and Westbrook scrambled back, but Holiday didn't attack the rim. He flicked a behind-the-head pass to Lian Dao, now wide open outside.
Lian Dao caught it and fired. Durant, stuck from chasing Holiday, couldn't reach. Lian Dao faked, sidestepped Jeff Green's late lunge, and shot again. The ball splashed through.
The Knicks' slick passes and cuts flowed like a dance. Lian Dao and Holiday's chemistry rattled Durant and Westbrook. On the next play, Westbrook rushed a pass to Krstic, misreading his speed. Krstic, a step slow, missed it, and the ball rolled out. Westbrook's head was off, shaken by the Knicks' seamless plays.
The Knicks pounced. Lian Dao used a pick-and-roll to lose his man, darted to the basket, and caught Holiday's lob. He spun mid-air, his long arms whipping a 360-degree windmill dunk that shook the rim.
The Ford Center went silent. Lian Dao's slam hushed the crowd.
He landed, roared, and pounded his chest. He raised his right index finger to his lips, glaring at the stands. Shut up, his gesture screamed.
The arena froze, then erupted in boos. Thunder fans, furious, hurled insults. "Kevin will crush you!" one shouted, adding a slur. "Go cry to your mom!" another yelled.
Lian Dao smirked, unfazed. Road fans always targeted his looks. He saw it as envy. His lean, chiseled frame—sleeker than LeBron's but strong—turned heads. His dunks, like this windmill, stole breaths. Compared to Durant, in his third year, Lian Dao's power and flair shone brighter.
Thunder fans, mostly men, seethed at his charm. Lian Dao's Facebook fanbase was skyrocketing, with female fans joining twice as fast as males. Even in Oklahoma, Knicks No. 1 jerseys dotted the crowd, worn by Chinese fans and women. The Thunder's male-heavy stands only fueled their bitterness. They envied his looks, his game, and his pull with female fans, a pack of lonely guys hating on his star power.