Champion Rules

Chapter 127, Section 123: First Learn How to Defend Your Title (Seeking Monthly Tickets!)
When Lynch calmly sank the free throw to complete his 60-point feat, Carmelo Anthony's pupils trembled slightly, as if he were once again in the suffocating moment of last season's Eastern Conference Finals.

Same opponents, same defeats, and the same sense of powerlessness.

The Detroit Pistons did everything they could to stop Lynch today. Their players didn't break down until the very end and continued to play serious defense, bringing the Grit and Grind spirit to its fullest extent.

But they were powerless to stop Lynch, who scored the highest single-game score ever seen at the Palace of Auburn Hills since it opened in 1988.

For a team like the Pistons, whose culture emphasizes defense, this is undoubtedly a disgrace.

Even Michael Jordan never scored that many points in this arena.

Carmelo Anthony's career-high score to date is 48 points. As a player known as an "offensive kaleidoscope," his scoring explosiveness was thoroughly scorned by Lynch tonight.

While 60 points in a single game isn't the highest in NBA history, it doesn't even rank in the top three. Kobe Bryant's 81-point game last January is still fresh in everyone's memory.

However, basketball statistics cannot be judged solely by numbers. Even if the Admiral scored 71 points in a single game, people would not consider 71 to be greater than 60.

Every point Lynch scored was because the injury-plagued team needed him to do it, not because they needed the stats.

Considering that the Pistons kept the score close throughout the game, and even took the lead when Lynch left the court in the second quarter.

Therefore, if Lynch's firepower stalls, the outcome of the game could be completely different.

Those rainbow trails that streaked across the night sky were the Knicks' only beacon of salvation in their desperate situation.

His 60 points today are highly respected.

His 60 points today were devastating.

Detroit fans certainly know that Lynch can't play like this every game. Tonight, Lynch's three-point shooting percentage was incredible, 10 out of 15.

Half of his 60 points came from three-pointers, and his 10 three-pointers broke the Knicks franchise record.

Such a night is hard to replicate for athletes of any level.

But the seeds of fear have already been sown; the scoring potential contained within this Eastern body sends chills down the spines of every Detroit resident.

Tonight he pierced the sky with 60 points, and tomorrow he could very well reap 40 or 50 points in a more reasonable way.

In previous games, the media had said that Lynch was the best defensive player of the season.

But tonight he proved that he can also be one of the best offensive players in the league.

After the game ended, Carmelo Anthony grumbled and looked up at the championship banner on the dome of the Palace of Auburn Hills.

Just a year ago, he believed he could control the entire league. But tonight, Lynch's 60-point performance made him realize that he has completely lost control of the league.

His fall came so suddenly, so unexpectedly.

Anthony knew that competitive sports are full of generational changes and winners and losers, and that the old champions could very well be eliminated one day.

But Carmelo Anthony isn't old; he believes he's in his prime.

Even so, Lynch still managed to snatch everything away from him, which left Melon feeling incredibly frustrated.

Lynch walked up to him; clearly, this was not a perfunctory greeting.

He deliberately mocked, "Just like you said, this place is hell, Melo, it's hell."

"Fuck you, you bastard, you'll lose eventually." Anthony didn't back down; he wasn't the type to immediately disappear into the player tunnel after a loss.

“Yes, I will lose sometimes. In fact, I’ve already lost two games this season, and I just got thrashed by MVP Steve Nash two days ago. We’re not at full strength, and we may have injury problems all season, but you are the only one who—” Lynch stepped forward, his gaze relentlessly burning Anthony’s dignity.

"You're the only one I won't fucking lose to, Melo. Maybe you can win a game or two, but in the end I'll win the whole battle. Just like last season's Eastern Conference Finals, just like tonight!"

Lin Qi gritted his teeth, his voice booming, his eyes blazing with fury.

He was very serious; he would never allow himself to kneel before his mortal enemy.

Lynch is willing to do anything to beat the Pistons.

Whether it's a crazy number of shots or a crazy number of defenses, even if you only play 48 minutes, it doesn't matter.

He'll do anything to beat the Pistons.

The pain of his rookie season left a deep mark on Lynch's heart, and he vowed that he would never be eliminated by the Detroit Pistons again!

Carmelo Anthony didn't answer, turned and left. He needed time to process the night. Perhaps he'd have to spend another night in the gym pounding the sandbag to temporarily forget the almost obsessive flame of victory that flickered in Lynch's eyes when he said those words.

The Knicks' three suit-clad players rushed onto the court to hug Lynch, and Sam Cassell's eye-catching orange suit ultimately scared the kids.

"60! Hahaha, that's something to brag about for the next century!" Marbury was very happy, happy for his friend.

But his excited voice suddenly froze. He felt the body that had just destroyed the entire Pistons team trembling slightly, and beads of sweat dripped down Lynch's lowered eyelashes onto his suit sleeve.

Sam Cassell laughed maniacally in the sunlight, still shouting, "You've chewed the bones out of Detroit!"

Lynch's sharp gaze softened, and he patted Stephen Marbury and Sam Cassell's arms: "Come on down, I'm tired."

After playing side-by-side for more than two seasons, this was the first time he had heard this seemingly perpetual motion machine, number 20, utter that word.
-
Since the Knicks were hit by a wave of injuries, Lynch's playing time has remained consistently high.

Everyone laughs at Tom Thibodeau, but in fact, Tom Thibodeau has mastered the simplest and most direct way to improve the winning percentage in basketball tactics—increasing the playing time of key players.

To maintain their winning percentage, Philip Sanders had to increase Lynch's playing time.

In his last six games, Lynch has averaged about 44 minutes per game—in Europe, a game usually lasts no more than 40 minutes.

In this day and age, "load management" is still a relatively unpopular concept.

As long as a player is healthy, the coaching staff will place a heavy burden of victory on his shoulders.

Therefore, this was the most tiring season for Lynch.

That same evening, after returning to New York with a 60-point game, Lynch walked through the medical intensive care unit corridor of Greenburg Health Center, his calf muscles still sending out burning signals of fatigue.

The team doctor just conducted a full assessment of him, and as expected, he is in excellent health.

AC. Green's terrifying durability never made Lynch worry about his body.

The only thing he needed to overcome was this fatigue. He knew he couldn't complain because he was obligated to carry the team.

He also knew that this was the price he had to pay to defend his title.

He has said that defending the title means everything to him, and that's more than just talk.

Lin Qi's youthful drive led him to decide to continue pushing himself relentlessly, regardless of the consequences.

On his way home, Lin Qi received a phone call.

The caller ID surprised Lin Qi, but he answered it quickly.

"Willis, how can I help?"

The caller is Willis Reed, the only MVP in Knicks history and the captain who led New York to two championships in the early 70s.

Since meeting each other in last season's Finals, Lynch and Willis Reed have maintained occasional phone conversations.

"You got 60 points, and you didn't even throw a celebration party in New York?" Reed's hoarse laughter came through the phone.

Lynch gazed at the billboards rushing past the car window; Coca-Cola was plastering the entire building with images of him dunking. "I'd love to, but I can't drink," he said. "This summer, Phil accidentally let slip in an interview about how we first met, which caused me a lot of trouble."

"A night like this deserves a celebration. Are you free tomorrow night? I don't drink, and I don't have any women with me. I just want to invite you to dinner."

"Of course, where?"

"Let's go to your restaurant. Is it possible to make a reservation? Your restaurant is more popular than the United Nations. I heard that celebrities from all over the world treat it as a must-visit spot."

"Don't worry, Willis, there will always be a private room reserved for you there."

"How about 6:30 in the afternoon?"

"See you there, Willis." "See you there, Lynch."

Lin Qi hung up the phone without giving it much thought.

He felt that Willis Reed probably just wanted to celebrate his 60-point night as a New York legend, as he was always happy for his achievements.

The following evening, Lynch was invited to his family's restaurant.

Just as Willis Reed described, this place was bustling and vibrant, like a dazzling palace.
Every night, this hotel, which has been dubbed a new landmark of Manhattan by the New York media, is always surrounded by reporters.

Because here, you can see Tony Trolls waving and laughing with his children, see Beyoncé in her velvet gown sweeping down the red carpet, and see Leonardo DiCaprio having dinner with who-knows-who-how-many girlfriends.

This place is no longer just a restaurant; it's more like a social and glamorous hub in Manhattan.

If you haven't managed to book a private room at Lynch's restaurant in New York, you'd be embarrassed to chat with people in your social circle.

Lynch initially opened the restaurant simply to give his mother something to do, but his fame and the huge market in New York caused the restaurant's development trajectory to deviate completely from expectations.

As Lynch and Willis Reed walked into the restaurant side by side, the Manhattan night sky was illuminated as if it were daytime by a flurry of flashing lights.

The meeting between two generations of Knicks leaders is enough to guarantee headlines in all sports media.

Under the gilded dome of the penthouse suite, Willis Reed raised his champagne glass first: "Congratulations, King of New York!"

From the beginning, the dinner party went pretty much as Lynch had imagined.

Willis Reed talked about stories from his era and, incidentally, praised Lynch.

Lynch is not opposed to it either. To him, the NBA in the 60s and 70s was like a young girl wearing a thin veil, making people want to explore it.

He was very interested in those old stories from his adulthood that are rarely mentioned now.

But halfway through the meal, the 64-year-old white-haired tough guy stopped smiling, like a magician who could see right through Lynch's heart.

"Lynch, this is probably the most tiring season of your career. I can smell the fatigue seeping from your very bones."

Lynch's chopsticks hovered in mid-air, the schedule of tomorrow's game against the Magic feeling like lead weights sinking into his stomach. To be honest, he had never felt the regular season was so long.

The young King of New York admitted with a wry smile, "Yes, fatigue is enveloping me like frosting on a cake. I don't know if it's because I've been playing too many minutes lately. Do you think I should take a break? Or should I keep pushing forward?"

"Of course you should rest. The first condition for defending the title is that you don't get injured. This Knicks team may be able to afford to lose Sam, or even Eddie or Stephen. But they are just decorations on the Christmas tree, and you, Lynch, are the root. You absolutely cannot fall."

Willis Reed knows better than anyone the difficulty of defending a title season.

He continued to rummage through those bitter memories in his mind.

"In '71 we were still strong, and all of New York was looking forward to our title defense. But Kaz Russell injured his knee, and our wing suddenly became very vulnerable, which forced me to continue to increase my playing time and take on a heavier defensive workload."

I suffered several injuries during the regular season because of this, but thankfully none of them were serious. Like you, I thought everything would be alright.

But in the playoffs, I truly understood the cost of overexertion.

Reed took a sip of whiskey, his Adam's apple bobbing with the amber liquid: "I know you want to keep going, but you have to manage your energy. Remember, rest is the second most important thing in a title defense season."

"Then what is the most important thing?" Lin Qi took a sip of tea.

Willis Reed took another sip of his drink. He knew he shouldn't be drinking so much at his age, but he needed alcohol to ease the pain whenever he recalled that moment.

"The most important thing."
In the 1971 Eastern Conference Finals, we were up 2-0, but the Washington Bullets rallied when we were on the brink of defeat. We even had a match point, but the Washington Bullets fought back tenaciously to force a Game 7.

They were incredibly tenacious; several of their key players were playing with injuries.

In the decisive Game 7, those guys were practically bullets, as if they wanted to kill us.

I'm 64 years old, but I still remember those damn statistics.

Walter Frazier went 5-for-13 and Dave DeBuschel went 3-for-13. We were lost under the Bullets' tough defense. I could smell the blood on the Bullets' clothes.

In the final moments, we were down by one point. Walter was completely shut down by Earl Monroe. God, Monroe was absolutely amazing. I'm not saying this just because I became his teammate later; his defense was watertight.

Walter could only pass the ball to Bill Bradley in the final moments—nowadays people only remember him for his 2000 presidential campaign, but at the time, he was the Knicks' most reliable white guard.

He glanced at me, trying to pass the ball to me. But I was completely dominated by Wes Unseld and couldn't get into position at all. That bastard was battling me hand-to-hand for the entire 48 minutes; I was going crazy.

None of us had a chance, I thought to myself. I thought, forget it, we can't win. I had already fought hard in Game 7 last year while injured, but this year I was powerless.

I was overwhelmed. I was overwhelmed by the fatigue that had lasted all season, and I was overwhelmed by the 48 minutes of playing time in Game 7. I gave up on positioning, and Beal's shot was blocked.

And guess what? The basketball just happened to fall right into my and Wes's hands. Because I didn't actively box out, I could only watch helplessly as the ball slid past me, and then the game ended.

Screw it! If I had continued to compete with him, if I had held that position, I would have had a chance to make the game-winning putback! We might have made it to the Finals, and we might have defended our title!

I know no one will blame me for this, but it was indeed my fault, and failing to defend my title is my biggest regret.

Therefore, the most important thing is…

Willis Reed stared into Lynch's eyes.

"The most important thing is that even if you rest during the regular season, at some point in the playoffs—and maybe that moment will never come—you will be so physically and mentally exhausted that you want to give up."

Even when your lungs are burning, your vision is starting to darken, and your muscles are stiffening, remember to hold on a little longer!

The reason those legends are immortal is not because they never tire.

Instead, when the world thinks they should fall, they always manage to hold on for another round!

After saying this, Willis Reed let out a long breath, his whole body relaxing, as if recalling all of this had relieved him of a great burden.

"After the MJ and OK combination, people kept talking about the three-peat. Ha, it's like a fledgling bird trying to conquer the storm before it has even left the nest."

"Try defending your title first, Lynch. A true dynasty isn't built on thin air; every brick requires the utmost effort."

Lynch had never watched the 1971 Eastern Conference Finals, and he was even less aware that this tough guy who had moved all of New York with his "heroic return" had also had such a dark moment when he wanted to give up the game.

Therefore, there is only one kind of perfect hero in this world, and that is the false hero in media narratives.

Willis Reed didn't hesitate to tear open his own wounds and show Lynch the sore spot of his title defense.

He genuinely hopes that someone can make this team great.

Lynch remembered the New York legend's words: "I'll be ready for that moment, Willis."

Of course, he didn't forget the second most important thing either.

The following day, in the game against the Orlando Magic, Lynch “only” played 38 minutes, yet still led his team to a 97-85 victory over the Orlando Magic.

格兰特.希尔在林奇出场时间减少的情况下大爆发拿下21分11次助攻，这是04-05赛季以来，他首次拿下20+10的数据。

The New York Knicks continue to lead the league with a 10-2 record.

Lynch stopped his reckless charge and curbed his youthful impetuosity, starting to plan for the entire title defense marathon.

Veterans like Grant Hill surged forward, becoming Lynch's most powerful booster.

The championship banner atop Madison Square Garden's dome watches as a new generation of guardians embarks on doing what no one in the team's history has ever accomplished.
-
"The coach gave me more playing time. As the second power forward, I should share more of the pressure with the first power forward, and I have a duty to do so." — Amir Johnson on his increased playing time today.

Is Jermaine O'Neal really the second-best power forward in the East? How many rings does he have? — Amir Johnson defends his position with sound reasoning.

Stop asking me that question. Who the hell wants to compete for second place? — Stephon Marbury laughs as he answers the question of "Who is the second-best power forward in the East, Jermaine O'Neal or Amir Johnson?"

This is a really tough question, and I don't want to offend anyone. But if I had to choose one, maybe LeBron James? Hahaha, I hope he won't be angry. — Dwight Howard's post-game response to the question, "Lincia, Melo, Dwyane, and LeBron, who do you think you'd beat first in the playoffs?"

I will continue to fully support Lynch. I know I'm getting old, but as long as I can run, I will squeeze out every last drop of energy from my body. Lynch helped me win the championship, and I know who I should fight for. — Grant Hill on his 20+10 performance after a year and a half.

Our views align with Grant's; we will give everything to help the Knicks defend their title. We are not afraid of injuries, and we don't care about our age. — Sam Cassell and Eddie Jones discuss their comeback.

The New York Knicks' roster is indeed getting old, but going into the locker room for interviews felt like stepping into the locker room of an NCAA team playing in the heat of March Madness. The veterans are all fighting for the team and for Lynch's title defense, displaying a passion far beyond their years. If last season was Lynch leading this group of veterans, this season it's these veterans pushing him towards even greater honors. We can look forward to the veterans' performance this season; Grant's 20+10 is certainly just the beginning. — Ian Begley, New York Sports Network beat reporter

(End of this chapter)