Chapter 385: 2011 NBA Draft

As the 2011 NBA Draft drew near, the entire league was on edge. Rumors, backchannel calls, and sources close to the situation had turned the NBA office into what felt like a disaster command center.

…

At a villa in upstate New York, Lin Yi and James Harden sat sprawled on a couch, watching ESPN’s pre-draft coverage. Harden’s eyes were half-closed behind a pair of tinted shades — he was running on maybe three hours of sleep.

“Lin, what are you doing, man?” he mumbled mid-yawn.

“Monitoring Twitter,” Lin said, phone in hand. “Gotta see if Woj drops a bomb before the broadcast starts.”

“Bro, you and that dude have beef or something?” Harden asked, scratching his beard.

Lin chuckled. “I wouldn’t call it beef. More like… professional paranoia.”

Harden groaned, dragging a pillow over his face. “You need a hobby, man. Like sleep.”

At the Prudential Center in New Jersey, Knicks executives Javier Stanford and Donnie Walsh were already in position, watching the early movements like generals before battle.

This draft wasn’t exactly overflowing with talent — scouts were calling it one of the weaker classes in recent memory — but Lin Yi didn’t care. He’d spent weeks planning, drawing up multiple contingencies: Plan A, B, C, and D.

That morning, the Knicks had quietly pulled off a move. They’d traded a future first-rounder and some cash to Houston to grab the Rockets’ 23rd pick.

Morey, ever the opportunist, was fine with it. He wanted to hunt for hidden gems in the second round anyway.

But New York wasn’t done. Hours later, the Knicks struck again — sending Lance Stephenson and more cash to the Bobcats for the 12th overall pick.

It was a clever move, perfectly blocking Indiana’s 13th slot, while their own 8th pick already sat ahead of Golden State’s 10th.

“Nice work, Javier,” Lin had texted earlier. “You’re like a thief with a clipboard.”

“I aim to please,” Javier replied.

Honestly, the Knicks’ front office couldn’t believe how easily the Bobcats had given up that 12th pick. But then again, Michael Jordan thought he’d pulled one over on them. Stephenson was a champion now, and Jordan’s camp figured it was better to get a known name than bet on another lottery gamble.

To be fair, 2011 was a hard year to scout — a lot of potential, not much certainty. Everyone was guessing, and most guesses were bad.

Five minutes before the draft started, Lin’s phone buzzed. He looked down, saw the notification, and froze.

“Woj bomb,” he muttered.

Harden’s pillow slipped off his face. “Wait—already?”

“Already.”

Lin scrolled, reading aloud. “Cleveland, Denver, and Dallas finalize massive three-team trade ahead of first pick.”

“...What?” Harden sat up, eyes now wide open.

Before Lin could say more, David Stern’s voice echoed from the TV.

“With the first pick in the 2011 NBA Draft, the Cleveland Cavaliers select… Kyrie Irving, from Duke University.”

The crowd erupted — and then, seconds later, the broadcast cut to breaking news.

Woj wasn’t exaggerating.

The Cavaliers were sending Irving — their first overall pick — plus Jamison to Denver and Dallas. In return, the Nuggets shipped Carmelo Anthony and JR Smith to Cleveland. The Mavericks got Kyrie Irving and the 16th pick, originally from the Lakers.

Lin Yi blinked. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Harden looked at him, then at the TV, then back at him. “Bro… they really traded the number one pick?”

Lin stood up, pacing. “Cleveland just flipped a franchise cornerstone before he even put on the hat. Melo’s going home. JR’s tagging along. Denver’s restocking. And Dallas—Dallas just drafted their future.”

ESPN’s analysts were already losing their minds, flashing TRADE ALERT banners as Stephen A. Smith’s voice roared through the speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is madness! An absolute game-changer!”

Harden pointed at the screen, half-laughing. “They just gave Dirk a baby Kyrie. That’s wild.”

Lin rubbed his temples. “No, that’s dangerous.”

He grabbed his phone and called Javier. “Tell me we can trade up. The Mavericks just got the 16th pick, right? We can’t let them double-dip.”

Javier’s voice came through, calm but strained. “We’re trying, Lin. But after that trade, everyone’s scrambling. It’s chaos right now.”

Lin exhaled slowly. “Figures. Cuban moves fast when he smells blood.”

“Yeah,” Javier said. “Even the front offices are stunned. No one saw this coming.”

Lin leaned against the window, staring out at the Manhattan skyline. “If Dallas pairs Kyrie with the right rookie, they’ll be a nightmare. Dirk’s not done yet.”

Harden glanced over. “You stressing already? Bro, you just won a title.”

“That’s why I’m stressing,” Lin said with a wry smile. “When you’re at the top, every move down there matters.”

Harden laughed. “You sound like Pat Riley.”

Lin shrugged. “Pat’s not wrong, but the execution can be extreme sometimes.”

He sat back down, rubbing his chin as the next picks rolled in. “Man, I really underestimated how fast these GMs can move. No wonder they say the strong teams stay strong.”

...

While every team was busy pulling strings behind the scenes, the Timberwolves — content to keep things simple — used the second overall pick to select Derrick Williams.

Williams had serious bounce, could switch across positions, and carried the kind of versatility teams had started to value ever since Lin Yi broke the mold. For the Huskies, he was a low-risk bet with high athletic upside.

At No. 3, the Utah Jazz took Enes Kanter Freedom, the Turkish Lin Yi, as the internet had already started calling him.

Kanter’s offensive game was smooth, and during workouts, he’d impressed the Jazz staff with his footwork and touch around the rim.

The Kings were next up. Fourth overall.

And that’s when things got… interesting.

They picked Tristan Thompson.

When Thompson’s name was called, the camera caught him with a look halfway between shock and heartbreak — like someone who’d just been told the wrong flight gate.
His expression basically screamed, “Wait, what? Sacramento? I’m supposed to be a Knick!”

The irony was that the Kings had been influenced by the Knicks’ own scouting reports. New York’s front office had been talking up Thompson for weeks, and Sacramento took the bait.
They were thrilled, convinced they’d stolen a gem right from under the Knicks’ noses.

With Favors already developing and Rubio on his way from Spain, the Kings’ execs were high-fiving like they’d just pulled off a coup. Stealing one from New York made it even sweeter.

Meanwhile, poor TT had the energy of a man who’d just lost his luggage.

Javier even texted him, half-serious, half-sympathetic:

“Bro, we tried to get you, but the Kings jumped first. Nothing we could do.”

TT read the message and sighed — the world, it seemed, had a personal grudge against him.

At No. 5, the Raptors selected Jonas Valančiūnas. Solid choice. The Lithuanian big man had range, touch, and that European poise coaches loved.

The Wizards, picking sixth, went with Nikola Vučević — another versatile big, another so-called Lin Yi type.

The media was already calling him the Swiss Lin Yi.

Lin nearly choked on his Coke when he heard that.

“What the hell is with the names now? Anybody playing a style remotely close to mine, a Lin YI.”

Still, it was a smart move. With Vučević and Yi Jianlian both capable of stretching the floor, John Wall might finally start racking up assist titles. At least the Wizards weren’t making the same mistake as last time — Veselý had burned that franchise enough.

Then came the Nets at No. 7.

They went with Jan VeselĂ˝.

Yes, that VeselĂ˝. The Wizards will be relieved not to touch again.

Brooklyn’s front office looked ecstatic, convinced they’d found a hidden gem.

The draft board labeled him The Czech Lin Yi.

Lin stared blankly at the TV, rubbing his temple.
They are trolling. This has got to be trolling. Turkish Lin Yi, Swiss Lin Yi, Czech Lin Yi… what’s next? American Lin Yi?

Harden, hearing the names, has been hunched over the floor, laughing his guts out; even the pillow thrown at him couldn’t stop the laughter.

He tried to block out the laughs as he leaned back on the couch, half amused, half exasperated.
Great. I’ve become a template now. Everyone’s cashing in on my style. No originality left in the league.

Still, complaints aside, the Knicks’ plan had gone perfectly unnoticed. Javier and Donnie Walsh exchanged a silent look of relief in the draft room.

And so, sticking to their original plan — when it was finally their turn at No. 8 —
The New York Knicks made their pick.