After dragging the players apart, the three refs—Tony Blathers, Ken Moore, and Ed Malloy—headed over to the scorer's table to check the replay footage.
No surprise there: Earl Barron and Ewing Jr were both hit with flagrant twos. Those punches? No way they were walking away from that clean. A suspension was almost guaranteed—maybe even for the rest of the preseason, depending on how mad the league office got.
As for Harrington? Yeah, he grabbed Zaza's jersey, but he didn't throw a punch. And he stopped Lin from escalating things further. After some back and forth, the refs kept the original call. Just a technical for Al.
But now came the real debate: Was Zaza's foot-slide under Lin Yi's landing spot intentional?
The Garden crowd didn't need a replay to answer that.
"BOOOOO!"
In their eyes? That wasn't just dirty—it was criminal. Every Knicks fan could see it: Zaza was trying to take Lin out.
Team doctors checked on Lin during the delay. With a move like that, he should've at least rolled his ankle. But Lin? Dude got up like nothing happened.
Dude was built different.
Coach Mike D'Antoni's face was stone cold. He wasn't mad at Barron and Ewing Jr for throwing punches—hell no. He'd coached during the Suns era when Bruce Bowen made stepping under shooters an art form. D'Antoni hated that play. Always had.
And Lin? Lin was his ticket this season. His system depended on him.
But Mike knew the league. The refs would probably brush it off. No hard rule against foot slides—just "bad luck" unless it's flagrant.
Still, D'Antoni wasn't gonna risk Lin in a preseason game. If Zaza kept playing, Lin was sitting.
But turns out he didn't need to make that call. Ewing's haymakers had done their job. Zaza had already been carried back to the locker room.
On the Hawks' sideline, Coach Woodson kept one eye on the refs. Zaza was a key rotation guy—he had to hope this wouldn't snowball.
Meanwhile, Chinese fans watching the livestream were losing it.
"If they don't eject Pachulia, this league is a joke!"
"I got stepped on in high school, cost me everything!"
"Lin Yi should come down. He is the no.1 pick and shouldn't be rushing into fights. Don't want his pre-season to end soon."
The booing in MSG hit a whole new level.
But after a long delay, the refs made the call: common foul.
Just a regular foul. Lin got one free throw. Then Hawks' ball.
The arena exploded.
Coach D'Antoni slammed his clipboard down. "This is F###ED UP! You're helping a damn hitman!"
He was furious. This was Bowen all over again—cheap shots, no consequences. The league had let it slide before, and now it was happening again.
The honest teams? They got screwed.
He'd just lost two players to ejections, plus Harrington with a tech. And Zaza's dirty play? Just a foul?
Lin Yi already saw this coming. He remembered what Pachulia had done to others—Westbrook, Kawhi, even Shumpert. And back in his old life, nobody had held Zaza accountable then either.
Not when he slid under Leonard and derailed the Spurs. Not when he tried to neuter Shump.
And now, Lin Yi was the latest victim.
He knew the unspoken truth. If you weren't a superstar, you had to be twice as good and still pray not to get stepped on. At least it got better down the line in the future.
Even Yao had been pushed around until he snapped and flung a towel once.
Lin Yi? He wasn't gonna wait for a towel moment.
He marched straight to the scorer's table.
BANG!
He slammed his palm down so hard, papers flew everywhere.
Teammates rushed in to hold him back, but he shrugged them off and pointed right at the refs.
"If that's your final call, I'm done. I'm not playing another second. I'll pack my bags and head back to China today!"
Everyone froze. Even the refs were stunned. Was he daring them to T him up?
Lin didn't wait. He yanked off his shoes and stormed down the tunnel.
The MSG crowd? Unleashed.
BLACK WHISTLE!
BLACK WHISTLE!
The whole arena chanted, booed, and roared like they'd witnessed a crime.
And Lin wasn't bluffing. He was sending a message to the league office: You want me to grow the Chinese market? Then treat me like I matter.
Lin Yi wasn't here to purr. He came with claws.
On TNT, Barkley was howling.
"Lin's walking out! This is wild! Totally out of control!"
Kenny Smith shook his head.
"That was a dirty play. Intentional. Even if you don't call it a flagrant two, it's at least a flagrant one. There has to be a fine or suspension."
In his office, David Stern dropped his jaw.
His assistant called right on cue. The commish's brain short-circuited. This was a preseason game, and now the league's next big China star was walking off?
All because Zaza did what Zaza always does—and the refs looked the other way?
Stern had plans. Big ones. Lin Yi had the charisma, the game, and the market. New York was buzzing. The timing couldn't be better.
And now it was all blowing up.
He watched the replay again. No doubt about it—Zaza stepped in on purpose.
Stern sighed.
"Three idiots," he muttered. "They over-penalized New York and gave Atlanta a pass. What are they trying to do—break my future cash printer? I want Lin Yi back on the court. Now. Fix it."
At MSG, the three refs were drenched in sweat. The crowd was relentless. Knicks players refused to retake the floor.
A tech staffer leaned in and whispered something to Blathers.
Blathers sighed. He'd ref'd Yao before. Thought Chinese players were always quiet, respectful. Guess Lin Yi wasn't that kind.
And honestly? Blathers kinda respected it.
If Lin walked, the league would be screwed. Knicks fans would riot. And the Chinese fanbase?
Good luck dealing with that fallout.
He huddled with Moore and Malloy. Then, the refs went back to the monitors.
Coach Woodson frowned. He saw the writing on the wall. You only go back to the monitor when someone upstairs is yelling in your ear.
Minutes later, the refs changed the call.
Zaza Pachulia: Flagrant two. Ejected.
Didn't matter that he was already in the locker room. It was official now.
The crowd lost their minds.
"LEEEEET'S GOOOO!"
They didn't just cheer the ejection—they cheered for Lin.
For justice.
And just a minute later, Lin Yi reemerged from the tunnel.
The Garden welcomed him like a war hero coming home.
The three refs didn't even give him a tech for the outburst earlier. Forgot all about it.
D'Antoni met him on the sidelines. "Alright, cool it. Don't pull off such a move again without. You have too much talent to waste. Sit the rest of the half. We'll get you back out there later."
Lin just nodded. He wasn't mad anymore.
He was feeling great.
Now he knew Stern was watching. That the league cared.
He'd made a statement. And they'd listened.
Although D'Antoni lightly reprimanded Lin, he was secretly grinning. He thought he had a temper, but Lin?
Lin had that fire.
And if you want to be a superstar in this league?
You need that fire.
....
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