Chapter 118: The Successor to Jordan

Faced with Lin Fei’s latest statistical display, any talk of victory or defeat seemed pale and powerless; perhaps the Warriors had simply won with too much ease. Once Lin Fei hit that three-pointer to reach 64 points, Nelson immediately subbed him out—partly to protect him and preserve his energy, and perhaps partly to leave Lin Fei with even greater space to pursue his own challenges.

Suddenly, the name "Lin Fei" appeared in headlines across every major sports newspaper. From that moment on, Lin Fei was perhaps destined to challenge an entire era, to challenge the very symbol of that era: Michael Jordan. This had been one of the most discussed topics among fans ever since Jordan’s retirement.

Whether he liked it or not, Lin Fei had reached this threshold.

Looking back through history, there have been no shortage of "heirs to Jordan," but most have met with tragic ends.

Kobe Bryant is often cited as the closest to Jordan. With multiple All-Defensive and All-NBA selections, three rings alongside O'Neal, and two more with the Lakers—plus a Finals MVP—he was only ever "close." Kobe’s philosophy was always, "Don't be the next anyone, be the first me." Ultimately, Kobe never achieved a second three-peat, nor did he reach Jordan’s level of scoring efficiency and court dominance. Many argue that Kobe was doomed to tragedy, forever living in Jordan’s shadow. After being swept in the 2011 playoffs, some suggested it might have been a relief for Kobe, if only because he no longer had to play under the weight of Jordan’s legacy.

Dwyane Wade? He won a championship and a Finals MVP, sparking endless expectations from the media and fans that he would be the new face of the league. However, he was swept out of the first round in the two subsequent seasons. Even with the formation of the Heat’s Big Three, the presence of a teammate like LeBron James made it difficult for Wade to ever truly surpass the legend.

LeBron James? Once hailed by a young fan as having "the sky as his limit," his immense physical gifts and talent led him to chase every statistical record and secure back-to-back regular-season MVPs. He possessed many of Jordan’s virtues—versatility, elite defense, a powerful leadership aura, and the ability to turn the tide—and no one doubted he would eventually wear a championship ring on any finger he chose. Yet, LeBron ultimately couldn't resist the temptation of a title and joined the Heat. Jordan was blunt: "I wouldn't have called Larry or Magic and said, 'Hey, guys, let’s join a team and play together!' Frankly, I only thought about how to beat the strongest opponents." That sentiment perhaps destined LeBron to carry the stigma of a traitor throughout his career, and a traitor can never be Jordan’s heir. He may prove he can achieve as much as Jordan, but he is destined never to *be* Jordan.

While those three continue their efforts—or at least come infinitely close—others have already been discarded by the tides of NBA history.

When discussing heirs, the most hyped names after Jordan’s retirement were undoubtedly Grant Hill and Penny Hardaway. Hill was a prodigy; his drives were lightning-quick, his movements fluid, and his crossovers left defenders looking like wooden stakes. He possessed elite basketball IQ and vision, combined with the grit of the Pistons. In terms of personal ability and charisma, Hill was the consensus heir, proven by his status as the All-Star voting leader as a rookie. But the subsequent tragedy is well known. After the 2000 playoffs, his ankle X-rays looked like a sliced orange. He missed 292 games over the next five seasons, with six steel screws in his left foot. By the time he spoke casually to the media about his injury, he was less of a man and more of a sports medicine expert. As for Hardaway, he was perhaps the first to be showered with high expectations. His athleticism, versatility, and court vision made him a star. Jordan spoke highly of him: "He’s calm and confident on the floor. If I were to pass the torch to the next player, it would be him." But in the 1996-97 season, after O'Neal left, Hardaway was forced into a high-scoring role, averaging 31 points in the playoffs, but that was the extent of it. His fatal mistake was letting O'Neal go; he struggled alone thereafter, ending up with nothing but a body full of injuries.

Then there is Vince Carter. His gravity-defying flights made one doubt the laws of physics. As the greatest dunker in history, he surpassed Jordan in that regard. His deep threes and divine back-dunk buzzer-beaters were staples of the Top 10 highlights. Yet, he never reached the biggest stage, and a true superstar is only defined by the "sword" they wield on the grandest stage. He never reached the championship podium, losing the most fundamental credential for being Jordan’s heir.

Next is Tracy McGrady. His physical gifts and scoring ability even conquered Jordan, who heaped so much praise on T-Mac that it could fill a book. Jordan called him a game-changer and the only player for whom he’d willingly come off the bench. He produced the miracle of 13 points in 35 seconds, possessed an unstoppable pull-up jumper, and was a two-time scoring champion. But he left fans with more than just highlights: his perpetually unfocused eyes, the 19-game losing streak, the feat of making fans pass out in frustration, and the endless string of first-round playoff exits. His desire for victory and his attitude were simply not on Jordan’s level.

Finally, there is Allen Iverson. After shaking Jordan out of his shoes upon entering the league, he became a candidate for the throne. A four-time scoring champion, he was the only scoring leader in a decade to carry his team to the Finals—a threshold that separated Jordan from other stars. The resilience and courage in his blood brought him infinitely close to Jordan. Game 1 of the 2001 Finals was the greatest performance of his career, single-handedly handing the only playoff loss to the O'Neal and Kobe Lakers. His fighting spirit was a mirror image of Jordan. However, Iverson’s excessive individual heroism hurt the team. He didn't trust his teammates, and he rarely made them better. The kind of play where Jordan assists Steve Kerr for a game-winner was alien to Iverson. His inability to find synergy with his coaches was the fundamental gap between AI and MJ. His scoring arsenal was somewhat one-dimensional, and his efficiency fell below superstar standards. His titles as a steals leader could not mask his defensive shortcomings. After joining the Nuggets, he lost his peak form and drifted to the fringes of various teams, a truly melancholy sight.

As I said before, whether he likes it or not, Lin Fei has reached this point. What will come of it, no one knows; destiny will take its course.

From another perspective, this might be a good thing for Lin Fei. He had previously been labeled as "Iverson’s heir" due to his scoring and speed, and many believed he was the closest thing to Iverson in years. Discussions reached a fever pitch after he won the scoring title. But after this insane 64-point playoff performance, all talk of him being "Iverson’s heir" came to an abrupt halt, because Lin Fei seems to have surpassed Iverson, reaching instead for the God of Basketball himself.

"The future of the league belongs to him!" Jordan remarked after watching Lin Fei’s game.

"He is the young player I am most optimistic about!" said Kobe.

"He will usher in an era for small point guards!" said Magic Johnson.

"He will change the way all guards play in this league!" said Jason Kidd. Kidd is the most qualified to speak on this, as he was the one directly facing Lin Fei. Kidd’s philosophy is "pass-first"—a view still held by many coaches as the primary duty of a point guard—but Lin Fei’s epic performance is likely to change that.

"After watching him play, even in my prime, I would gladly be his backup!" This was Iverson’s public statement. This icon of rebellion saying such a thing shocked fans, especially considering his famous boast: "I’d rather retire than come off the bench!" That he would say this after seeing Lin Fei’s game shows just how much affection Iverson holds for this "former heir."

The funniest part of all is the media.

They should have started from the draft. The other 29 teams in the league had, on average, two chances to select Lin Fei, but they all missed. As one commentator put it, either God was blind, or the general managers were. Lin Fei’s madness silenced the skeptics; all claims that he existed only because of the Warriors’ tactical system vanished instantly. Even fans began calling the experts "idiots." That the scoring champion of the season, a prodigy capable of dropping 64 points in the playoffs, didn't even make an All-NBA team, is the ultimate mockery of those so-called experts.

David Stern’s words perhaps carry the most weight: "He will change the entire era!" While it repeats many of the praises already heaped upon him, it seems to carry much more gravity.