Lin Yi, after returning to New York for a few days, flew to Houston on July 10th. The men's basketball team would hold its summer training camp there, and although Lin Yi knew he'd be stronger under FIBA rules, joining the team was still crucial preparation.
Yao Ming would bring the team on the 12th. True to his generous reputation, Boss Yao was personally covering every expense for the men's team's U.S. training camp.
Shortly after arriving, Lin Yi got a call from James Harden.
"Lin, tell me straight—should I go to the Rockets?" Harden asked.
Lin Yi knew the Thunder had kept Ibaka and were planning a sign-and-trade to move Harden. The Rockets' Kevin Martin was their top choice. Martin's salary was a bit over ten million, meaning the Rockets would only need to toss in two rookies to match Harden's contract. Stats-wise, Martin wasn't a downgrade—but Lin Yi saw through it.
The Thunder were trying to dodge luxury taxes, but Lin Yi knew this move would backfire. Small-market thinking might help in theory, but eventually, losing star after star would force them to pay anyway.
Trading Harden for Martin was a move that would haunt them later. Presti's eye for talent was brilliant, but his small-market mentality limited his operational flexibility. Harden's complaints in OKC—mostly about shot attempts—had been twisted by Fisher into stories of a moody, "wolfish" teammate. Combined with his beard, Harden's image as a difficult player stuck.
"Is Houston the only choice. Speaking of the places, I am in the city heading for Olympic training."
Harden snorted. "Houston, huh? You're already there, huh? Gonna be showing off Bora Bora pics while I'm working my ass off?"
Lin Yi blinked. "What…?"
"You know," Harden said, grinning. "All those lovey-dovey posts with Elizabeth. Don't tell me Houston's part of your… extended vacation?"
Lin Yi rolled his eyes. "You're impossible. Focus on your own decision. So yes, the Rockets' offer is decent, and—"
Harden cut in, chuckling. "Decent? Man, with you around, I feel like I'm just moving into your personal travel diary. Should I be worried I'll end up in a background shot?"
Lin Yi groaned. "Stop teasing me. I'm supposed to help you, not entertain you."
Harden laughed. "Relax, Lin. I'm just making sure you don't forget your real job. But… if you insist on bringing all that Bora Bora romance to Houston, I might need to start posting pics of my own."
Lin Yi shook his head with a smirk, realizing this would be a running joke all summer.
"As I was saying, the Houston deal is good, and you should think about it."
Lin said, trying to shift the topic.
"But the team's a mess now! Plus Big Yao isn't re-signing with the Rockets," Harden grumbled. He'd been spoiled by the Thunder, winning and competing. Going to Houston meant rebuilding with a mediocre roster for two or three years.
Lin Yi laughed. "Then go ahead—be Kevin and Russell's little brother in OKC forever. Just a pay cut, right? LeBron did it. You can too."
Harden snorted. "Alright, alright—you win." A minute later, he called his agent and started packing. "Houston, it is. They've got more nightclubs anyway," he joked.
Lin Yi raised an eyebrow. "By the way, did the USA Men's Basketball camp in Las Vegas invite you?"
Harden nodded. "Yeah, Coach K picked me for the 12-man roster."
Lin Yi groaned inwardly. He'd hoped Harden could be a training partner during camp.
The Chinese men's team would train in Houston until the 25th, then fly straight to London. These ten days were all about immersing the players in an American-style training environment. Talent in Chinese basketball existed, but in terms of diet, preparation, and intensity, they lagged far behind the NBA.
This year's 15-man roster was different. Yao Ming hadn't retired, forming the core of the defense with Lin Yi, Wang Zhizhi, and Yi Jianlian. Following Lin Yi's philosophy of giving young talent opportunities, 18-year-olds Guo Ailun and Ding Yanyuhang were called up, along with 16-year-old Zhou Qi, to gain experience.
Wang Shipeng, fresh off his strong performance in the CBA, looked sharp on the first day of practice. Sun Yue, now heavier than in his NBA days, was also on the roster. Lin Yi had no choice; with Sun Yue and Liu Wei only available, who else could he rely on?
New head coach Dan was candid. "Lin, honestly…without you, I wouldn't have taken the job."
His contract only guaranteed full pay if the team made the Olympic quarterfinals. With Lin Yi on the squad, Dan figured that at least they could reach that stage. Yet he was still wary of the team's depth.
One comfort: the roster boasted four NBA-caliber big men. Yao Ming was as dependable as ever—during a scrimmage, he even blocked Lin Yi, his embarrassed smile almost charming. Yi Jianlian brought his Wizards-level experience, while Wang Zhizhi, though older, impressed Dan with his offensive skill.
After practice, Dan leaned in. "Lin, what do you think about running a 'three-Big' lineup?"
Lin Yi nodded. "Yao, Yi, and I on the floor. Guards might be a little light on defense, but with FIBA rules, it's almost cheating."
"Also bring Guo and Ding," Lin Yi added. "A seven or eight-man rotation is enough. Young players keep the energy up."
Dan D'Antoni agreed. He planned to pair the three tall players with two shooters. Even though Sun Yue's skills had declined, he could still hold his own defensively against European guards.
On the second day of joint practice, Lin Yi kicked his intensity up a notch. The sharp-eyed Yi Jianlian immediately moved to the side, giving him space. Even though the Chinese men's basketball players knew Lin Yi sometimes showed off with his moves, his energy was impossible to ignore.
Take the guards, for example. Back in China, they barely needed to shoot 100 three-pointers a day. Here in Houston, Lin Yi was firing off 300 every session. Those players who had quietly been ready to take a break ended up picking up their basketballs again.
Lin Yi's discipline didn't stop at practice—he treated his diet just as seriously. Plus, after his vacation, he was refreshed to the maximum and had a fire in his belly.
At first, a few players grumbled about the nutritious meals, longing instead for hotpot and skewers. Yao Ming, ever the no-nonsense leader, cut them off instantly: "If you want hotpot and skewers, I'll book you a plane ticket. Go home and eat. No one's stopping you."
When it came to being commanding, no one could top Big Yao.
Lin Yi knew this was Yao's last Olympics; he'd retire afterward. So during training, Lin Yi led by example, quietly but firmly. The more serious Lin Yi was, the more tense the other players became. For the younger guys—Guo Ailun, Ding Yanyuhang, Zhou Qi—it was an incredible motivator.
See? You want to play in the NBA? First, you have to train like it.
After the first five days of joint practice, the team's mental state had already improved. Lin Yi was simply terrifying: while everyone else was still dreaming, he was already up and practicing. That morning, Yao Ming even woke at four to join him on the court.
"A-Lin," Yao Ming said with a grin, "you don't know—Da Wang said behind your back that you're basically a devil."
Lin Yi just smiled. Then, a thought struck him.
"Brother Yao… do you ever regret anything in the NBA?" he asked cautiously.
Yao paused.
"I do," Yao admitted. "Sometimes, I even envy you, Lin. Because no matter what, you've won a championship." His voice held a rare, soft emotion.
Lin Yi's gaze grew serious. "Brother Yao… why rush into retirement?"
He leaned in slightly. "Play one more year. Come to the Knicks—team up with me. How about that?"
He knew Stern wouldn't mind such a combination. Yao was past his peak, and the Knicks could offer an unbeatable appeal to the Chinese market.
Lin Yi had also seen during training that Yao Ming could still play at a high level. He'd lost weight, adjusted his style, and was the perfect backup center for the Knicks—strong enough to hold his ground, skilled enough to shoot and post up.
Where else could you find a player like that?
....
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