Champion Rules

Chapter 83, Chapter 079: Lin Qi believes in me, I believe in Lin Qi, and you can believe in us! (Seeking monthly votes!)
The Eastern Conference semifinals, fraught with tension, have reached a 3-3 tie, with both teams' players pushing their physical and mental limits.

One thing proves the exhaustion of both sides: since the start of the series, Stephon Marbury has surprisingly not stepped into a nightclub, and even the energy he had to deal with the big-butt nightclub angels has been exhausted by the game.

But Jamal Crawford was still busy with other things.

The shadow of the crushing defeat in Game 6 had not yet dissipated when Lynch and head coach Lenny Wilkens were already reviewing the game video in the early morning light.

The Heat played a terrifying defense last night. Although the Knicks are not known for their offense, it is still unacceptable for them to be held to under 80 points.

Just then, there was a knock on the door of the head coach's office, and Jamal Crawford poked his head in.

"Good morning, Coach, Lynch, you're here too."

"Is something wrong, Jamal?" Lenny Wilkens paused the recording.

"I'd like to take a day off tomorrow and go back to my hometown of Seattle to attend the opening ceremony of a basketball training camp. I promised them a year ago, and many kids in Seattle have been waiting for a whole year. I can't let them down."

"Flying to Seattle tomorrow for the training camp opening, then heading straight from the airport to the flight center for Game 7 the day after?" The veteran coach slammed his pen heavily on the table. "Do you know what time it is now? Game 7 is a must-win!"

But the children are already waiting for me.

Lenny Wilkens certainly didn't want his players running around at this crucial moment, so he raised his voice: "You know perfectly well the season isn't over yet! Why did you agree to participate in the opening ceremony in the first place?"

Faced with the questioning, Crawford awkwardly rubbed his trouser leg:

“I never thought we would make it this far and still be alive. I thought we would most likely not make the playoffs, or if we did, we would be eliminated in the first round. I never imagined that Lynch would make us so strong. So I had already reserved time for the kids in my plans.”

Lin Qi chuckled and whistled, lazily stretching his long legs: "Thanks for the compliment, Jamal."

He took it as a different kind of compliment from Crawford.

Crawford was indeed telling the truth. Although Lynch had already been drafted number one in New York before he joined the Knicks, only a fool would have believed that a rookie could lead a Knicks team riddled with problems and a three-time champion Shaq to a Game 7 in the playoffs.

Lenny Wilkens shook his head: "It's just the opening event of a training camp. I shouldn't interfere in your private affairs, and I'm not saying money isn't important. But how much can you get for an appearance at this kind of event? Is that money more valuable than winning the series? You have to understand, if we can get the top seed in the East, you'll be overwhelmed with endorsement deals."

“Brani, you’ve got it wrong,” Crawford waved his hand. “I don’t participate in these events for the money; I participate for free. I’m mainly doing it for the kids in Seattle. I want to be a role model for the kids in Seattle, so I participate in a lot of basketball events in Seattle every year to encourage kids in the slums to change their lives by pursuing their dreams. In fact, I lose money because I give away 500 pairs of basketball shoes on the spot.”

Jamal Crawford's gaze was sincere; he wasn't lying. After spending a season with him, Lynch had discovered that he was a rather unconventional wealthy Black man.

He came from a Black slum, but after becoming famous, he didn't waste money on foolish things like most Black players who aren't very bright. Instead, he devoted most of his off-court energy to giving back to his hometown.

Lynch discovered that whenever he had time, he would rush back to Seattle to participate in some low-profit basketball events.

When Lynch went to Seattle for away games this season, he also found that Crawford was far more popular than himself. According to the exaggerated narrative of the local media, "Every kid who plays basketball in Seattle knows him and has his personal number!"

This sentiment stems from his childhood, when Gary Payton and Doug Christie taught him by example. These two men provided him with a lot of help, teaching him how to be a professional player and saving him from many detours.

This warmth planted a seed in his heart, reminding him that one day, when he becomes famous, he will also help children in Seattle who, like him, have dreams.

Last year, he even bought the local Pro AM league in Seattle from Doug Christie and then waived the registration fee, allowing all children to participate in the competition.

He's not the kind of guy who says he cares about his hometown but then suddenly runs away; he genuinely loves Seattle and the kids there.

Hearing Jamal Crawford say that, Lenny Wilkens became less confrontational and did not immediately refute him.

At this point, Lynch clapped his hands: "Let him go, Lenny. He's a Seattle city hero. The kids will be disappointed if he doesn't go. As for Game 7, I believe Jamal can adjust his form. He's a very professional player."

The old coach slammed his pen on the table one last time, finally giving in: "Since Lynch has said so..."

"Thanks, Lynch! You're the real MVP! Game 7 will be no problem, I'll give you my full support!"

Just as Crawford's relieved smile blossomed, Lynch suddenly changed the subject.

"By the way, can you promise me something?" Lin Qi smiled.

"You said."

"You don't need to buy those 500 pairs of shoes. Replace them all with my battle boots, and I'll have someone send them to Seattle for you right away."

The children will remember you!

Crawford left happily, while Lenny Wilkens shrugged at Lynch.

"Trusting your teammates is a good thing, but if you always rely too much on their self-discipline, sometimes you have to learn to take some forceful measures to ensure things don't go wrong."

“If it were Stephen, I wouldn’t let him take time off to go to a nightclub. But Jamal? I think he knows what he’s doing. Okay, Lenny, let’s continue watching the video.”

As expected, the news of Jamal Crawford's leave of absence from the team was met with unanimous criticism from the New York media.

The following day, the New York Post juxtaposed photos of Crawford boarding the plane with old news of Carter attending his graduation ceremony in 2001.

Stephen A. Smith slammed his fist on the table and roared on his show, "If he can't maintain his scoring in the transition, and if the Knicks lose because of this, I guarantee you, Jamal, you'll be hanging from a Times Square lamppost!"

But Jamal Crawford couldn't hear any of that.

He is currently in Seattle, immersing himself in the pure joy of basketball with the children of his hometown.

He guided the boys through dribbling and passing, handing them the essential techniques, and occasionally gifting them Lynch's basketball shoes, which shone with admiration in their eyes. Laughter filled the court.

He enjoys these moments.

Suddenly, from the crowd, a curly-haired boy wearing a wristband shouted out the hope in everyone's hearts: "Jamal, will you be like lightning tearing through the clouds, cleaving Lynch's path to the Eastern Conference Finals?"

Another child immediately chimed in, "Is that even a question? Seattle's heroes won't fall on Game 7!"

A hesitant child's voice came from the corner: "But Uncle Doug couldn't beat the Sharks' team back then either. They also went to a Game 7 that year, and Doug only made 2 of 11 shots in the Game 7."

"Shut up!" a dozen children shouted at the same time, yet they saw the same fear in each other's eyes.

"Hey, of course I want Jamal to win. But I'm just stating the facts, Shaq is too strong, he's like... like a bulldozer crushing a castle of blocks!"

Jamal Crawford watched the arguing children, his smile freezing on his lips as memories flooded back.

That was Game 7 of the 2002 Western Conference Finals, a do-or-die game, where Doug Christie, clad in purple and white, was being scorched by the star power of the OK duo.

Doug Christie, a down-to-earth basketball hero from Seattle's previous generation, also enjoys immense popularity in the city, so Seattleites paid close attention to Game 7 that year.

Crawford still remembers the atmosphere at the time; the Seattle kids practically treated the Kings as their home team, and every round of the decisive Game 7 was heart-pounding.

Ultimately, however, it became one of the darkest memories for Seattleites.

The Kings lost the game, marking the end of their glorious era. Doug Christie allowed Kobe to score 30 points in that game, while he himself had a terrible off night, scoring only 4.

He remembered Bibby's three-pointer bouncing off the rim in the final moments, Webber kneeling on the floor, and Doug Christie's gaze at the scoreboard when the final buzzer sounded.

Now, fate seems to have come full circle once again.

Seattle's city hero faced an unstoppable shark, and children never want to see a similar tragedy happen again.

Crawford suddenly clapped his hands loudly, ending the children's argument.

He knelt on one knee and surveyed the entire arena, his gaze burning as if piercing the hearts of every child: "Listen, I won't let this tragedy repeat itself! Tomorrow is Shaq's last day of the season! The power of belief is sharper than a shark's teeth. Lynch believes in me, I believe in Lynch, and you can believe in us!"

"yeah!"

"Go, Jamal!"

"Let Shaq taste the bitterness of losing a Game 7!"

Looking at the children who trusted him so much, Jamal Crawford smiled gently, feeling immense satisfaction.

This is the power of trust.

The children trusted him, and he trusted Lynch.

The young Caesar will certainly not let them lose this battle. As long as he gives him his full support, victory is assured!

The next day, Jamal Crawford arrived at the stadium an hour before the match started.

We had just finished all the warm-up activities when the competition was about to begin.

Eddie Jones kept a close eye on Crawford, eager to see what would happen to the guy who'd gone to Seattle the day before Game 7 for some lousy basketball camp opening ceremony. Teammates' criticism? Coach's abuse?
There were no results.

Lin Qi simply patted his head and said, "Welcome back."

For some reason, Eddie Jones was chilled with jealousy.

The start of the Game 7 was not exciting, or rather, it wasn't as exciting as people had expected.

Both sides pushed their defensive intensity to the limit, and the referee seemed to be catering to this intensity, setting a very loose standard, with the whistle deliberately silencing amidst the physical collisions.

Two minutes have passed since the start, but neither team has scored yet.

Marbury was too exhausted on the defensive end and didn't have much of a touch at the start of the game.

Grant Hill was exhausted and struggled to create opportunities for Eddie Jones.

Lin Qi wiped the sweat from his brow and decided to change the course of the game; he was going to start scoring early.

In this offensive possession, Lynch dropped into the low post, backing down PJ Brown and blocking his lean waist, raising his hand to call for the ball.

The Shark double-teamed Lynch the moment he received the ball, but Lynch also learned from the Shark's strengths, namely his exceptionally simple ball handling in the low post.

He pivoted on his left foot, swaying his shoulder, and with a hook shot from his right hand, he drew a crescent-shaped arc, the basketball grazing O'Neal's hesitant fingertips as it fell into the net.

Because Lynch hasn't yet perfected his "shark hook" talent, his hook shot is still very dependent on his touch, sometimes accurate and sometimes inaccurate.

However, judging from today's performance, Lynch's touch is quite hot.

One possession later, Lynch ran off the ball to the corner of the three-point line, received it, and shot immediately. His movements—catching the ball, bending his knee, flicking his wrist—were decisive and without hesitation, because he knew it was his responsibility.

PJ Brown arrived just in time, but the basketball still went into the net.

Lynch's five consecutive points made the Miami crowd nervous, fearing that the nightmare of his 40+ point game would return.

With the score at 5-0, Dwyane Wade unleashed his V12 engine, attempting to drag the Heat down.

He practically blew past Marbury in one step. The New York native could only watch helplessly as number 3 stormed into the paint. That bastard's speed was simply not of this planet!
So far in the series, the Knicks have used their full perimeter lineup to defend Wade.

Grant Hill, Trevor Ariza, and Stephon Marbury all tried, but none of them were able to defend them effectively enough.

The only things that can limit him are his mid-range shooting touch and that 19-year-old tyrant in the paint.

Wade leaps for a layup, and Lynch's slender figure soars from the weak side, like a guardian deity spreading its wings and enveloping the entire paint area.

The image of Lynch blocking Wade's game-tying layup in Game 4 flashed through his mind.

In six games, Lynch has created a deterrent effect under the basket, and even Wade dares not take a shot rashly under the basket.

Finally, the Flash twisted in mid-air and threw the ball at the unmarked PJ Brown.

PJ Brown has a decent mid-range shot, and he shoots immediately after receiving the ball.

But Lynch seemed to have completely forgotten about "energy management," and immediately sprinted toward PJ Brown after landing.

Brown's slow release of the ball had barely begun when New York's number 20 was already looming large.

"Snapped!"

"Perfect defense! Lynch single-handedly shut down Dwyane and PJ! Although Ben Wallace is this year's DPOY, I think Lynch isn't far from winning it. God, look at his impact on the defensive end! If I were Lenny, I wouldn't want him to rest for even a minute!"

Mark Jackson showered Lynch with praise. Although there was still some controversy surrounding Lynch's selection to the All-Defensive First Team, at least in Mark Jackson's eyes, Lynch's selection was well-deserved.

After making the block, Lynch immediately grabbed the ball and passed it to Grant Hill to initiate a counterattack.

Hill passed the ball to the energetic Ariza, who pierced through the crowd like a silver dagger. The entire American Airlines Arena was ready to welcome this textbook fast break counterattack.

But Dwyane Wade seemed to create a time paradox at the American Airlines Center, chasing after him with terrifying speed from under the basket to the other side, as if the laws of physics had vanished at that moment.

With a dull thud as the basketball hit the backboard, Wade's chase-down block triggered a volcanic eruption of cheers from the 20,000 home crowd.

As the guard with the best shot-blocking ability in league history besides MJ, Wade's chase-down blocks always leave his victims in shock: "How the hell did that bastard get close to me?"

The boiling cheers were abruptly cut off the next second.

The basketball bounced off the backboard and flew away. Wade turned around to grab the ball, but saw that Lynch was already airborne.

He grabbed the offensive rebound and completed a putback dunk over Wade before he could jump again!
With a 7-0 run, Lynch silenced the American Airlines Center.

Lin Qi's tireless running allowed him to complete the block and also enabled him to successfully complete the putback dunk.

Stan Van Gundy gritted his teeth. Was that crazy kid not planning to play in the fourth quarter?
He'll be exhausted!
Lynch was indeed exhausted, but looking at the numbers jumping on the scoreboard, he knew it was all worth it; at least he had given the Knicks the lead.

After completing the dunk, Lin Qi shook his head at Wade: "Watch out for cars coming from behind."

Wade clenched his fists, the frustration accumulated from six hard-fought games churning in his throat.

Although Wade scored 40 points once in this series, he always felt that Lynch could control the game more easily than him.

O'Neal started to get anxious; he couldn't just watch the Knicks take a double-digit lead.

He called for the ball in the low post, pushed past Kurt Thomas, and then turned and slammed it home with a dunk.

But Lynch reappeared, his body colliding heavily with the shark 0.5 seconds before he could exert force, and then knocked the basketball out of the shark's hands.

"Foul! Are you fucking blind?" the shark roared at the referee, spitting onto the referee's bald head.

But the referee completely ignored it. You're the ones who turned the game into a meat grinder, and now you're calling a foul?

This is as ridiculous as going to a nightclub and complaining that the music is too loud or that the girls are dressed too scantily.

The referee was certainly not biased, because the standard was the same for both sides.

If Lynch were blocked like that, he wouldn't call a foul either.

Grant Hill controlled the ball, and Lynch set a screen for Marbury without the ball. Marbury ran to the top of the arc to receive the ball and shoot, the three-pointer piercing the net.

10-0, Lynch leads his team to force a Heat timeout!
"Damn it, you damn idiot! You always mess everything up!" Shaq yelled at Eddie Jones, who had just been responsible for defending the Son of New York.

Eddie Jones spread his hands: "I didn't lose focus on defense like you did. I did my best, but Lynch's screens were too good, I needed to switch!"

"These are all damn excuses! Why can't he score easily when Dwyane is guarding him? Why does he never need to switch when guarding Stephen?"

Eddie Jones was so angry he laughed. He admitted that his defensive ability was not as good as Wade's, but that did not contradict the fact that he had done his best.

If everyone were like Wade, Wade wouldn't be so precious.

Why don't you ask why LeBron can't be as successful as Michael? Even if LeBron tries his best, even if Nike tries its best, he will never be MJ.

On the other side, Lenny Wilkens decided to substitute Lynch early for a rest.

"I don't want my star player to only be able to hold on for one quarter! Jamal! You come out there and score big, show those Miami bastards what the Seattle storm is all about! Let's go head-to-head with the Heat for now!"

Jamal Crawford has been entrusted with a heavy responsibility. During Lynch's absence, he will be tasked with scoring and maintaining the team's lead.

Jamal Crawford took off his jersey, remembering the trusting eyes of the Seattle kids: "Rest easy, Lynch."

Lynch slapped Jamal on the back of his neck with his sweaty palm: "Go for it, Jamal! Attack them hard!"

After the timeout, Mark Jackson saw Jamal Crawford enter the game and, unsurprisingly, mentioned that Crawford had only arrived an hour before the game.

"Can Jamal get back into form? We saw Lynch hugging him; he still trusts him."

Eddie Jones glanced at Lynch, who was embracing Crawford, and then at Shaq, who was still complaining incessantly about the defense. He muttered something to himself.

"That bastard Shaq will never beat Lynch."

(End of this chapter)