Linderella Story
DALLAS (CBSDFW.COM)- Once upon a time …
There was a kid, born in Los Angeles and raised in northern California to Taiwanese parents who immigrated to the United States in the 1970s. Leaving behind a grandmother on mainland China, the child was raised on a mix of Asian customs and Americanization. He played video games, spoke English and liked sports, especially basketball.
The kid learned the intricacies of hoops from his father, Gie-Ming, who fell in love with the sport through the Los Angeles Lakers-Boston Celtics NBA Finals in the '80s. Dad took his 5-year-old son to the local YMCA and was frustrated when the boy only stood at mid-court, too scared to do anything but suck his thumb. Soon thereafter, however, Gie-Ming was explaining to wife, Shirley, that their kid had to be taken out of games because he'd reached his maximum points allowed – in the first half.
By the time the boy was a high-school senior he was a pretty good player, leading Palo Alto High School to a 32-1 record a state championship. But camouflaged by the sports stereotypes (scrawny and, more importantly, Asian) his play didn't raise eyebrows, much less prompt scholarship offers. Despite playing in their backyard, neither Stanford nor Cal nor the University of San Francisco took a look at the kid.
Fortunately, he was also intelligent. Smart enough to be accepted to Harvard.
In the afterthought Ivy League, the kid played more basketball and once lit up future NBA Lottery draft pick Kemba Walker for 30 points and nine rebounds in a close road loss to perennial powerhouse UConn. Still, few noticed. And those that did weren't overly impressed with the kid, who had blossomed into a 6-foot-3, 200-pound playmaking point guard.
After a triple-overtime loss to Harvard in Nov. 2009 in which the kid hit a 3-pointer at the buzzer, William & Mary coach Tony Shaver may have become the first genuine believer.
"He's as good an all-around guard as I've seen," Shaver said that night. "He's a special player who seems to have a special passion for the game. I wouldn't be surprised to see him in the NBA one day."
Shaver had plenty of elbow room alongside his lofty opinion of the kid.
Unscholarshipped out of high school, the kid was also undrafted out of college. At this point the fairy tale could end with the glass sneaker not quite fitting. The easy way out for the kid would be to use his economics major from Harvard and start cleaning up the mess at Bank of America or creating gold-plated portfolios at Merrill Lynch. But, no, the kid wasn't finished chasing his dream.
For those who believe this story is already too ridiculous and unbelievable to sell to even Disney, this is your crowded exit.
For the rest of you dreamers, cue the twinkling piano.
There isn't exactly a long legacy of success among Asian athletes in America. Ichiro in baseball. Yao Ming in basketball. Hines Ward and Patrick Chung in football. And in these parts we remember Dallas Cowboys' linebacker Dat Nguyen and Dallas Mavericks' forward Wang Zhi-zhi and are now positively giddy over Japanese pitcher Yu Darvish joining the Texas Rangers.
But damn the stereotypes and the odds – 0.5% of college basketball players are Asian – the kid persistently pursued his passion. He's a devout Christian with designs on being the pastor of his old church back in Palo Alto. But Heaven, turns out, can indeed wait.
Passed over in the 2010 NBA Draft, the kid would take the bumpy, pothole-littered path to professional basketball known as the Summer League. Turns out there was one team willing to give him a chance – your Dallas Mavericks. In Las Vegas in the summer of '10 Lin quickly turned heads as fast as he broke ankles. He out-played the Mavs' second-year guard Roddy Beaubois and rookie first-round pick Dominique Jones and held his own against No. 1 overall pick John Wall of Kentucky. At the end of the session Mavericks' general manager Donnie Nelson offered him a one-year contract, but likely a trip to the team's new D-League outfit in Frisco since the Mavs already possessed point guards Jason Kidd, Beaubois and J.J. Barea.
The kid politely passed, and instead accepted an offer from his hometown Golden State Warriors.
"We thought we had him," Nelson says. "But he wanted to play close to home. There's no doubt we liked him. He's a smart point guard with a lot of athletic ability and there will always be a place in the NBA for guys like that."
In Golden State the kid played in 29 games alongside current Mavericks' center Brandan Wright.
"In practice we knew he had mad skills," says Wright. "And he's a great guy, fun to be around. But I think we'd all be lying if we said we saw this coming."
The Warriors didn't, and they cut the kid on the first day after the lockout ended last December. Three days later he was signed by the Houston Rockets, who cut him on Christmas Eve after two pedestrian pre-season game performances.
Says Warriors' general manager Larry Riley, "I have egg on my face." Adds Rockets' general manager Darryl Morey via Twitter, Did not know he was this good. Anyone who says they knew misleading U.
After being signed by the New York Knicks on Dec. 27, the kid was thiiiiis close to again being released. The Knicks confirmed that they almost made the decision to cut the kid last week, the day before his $762,000 contract was guaranteed for the season. Instead, they gave him a shot. With injuries and ineffectiveness saddling guards Baron Davis, Mike Bibby and Toney Douglas and creating a point-guard chasm, coach Mike D'Antoni – desperate for a spark with an 8-15 disaster of a team – played the kid against the New Jersey Nets and he responded with an eye-popping 25 points off the bench. One-game wonders happen in sports, in the NBA. But the next game the kid started and … the Knicks haven't lost since.
The kid scored 38 in beating Kobe Bryant and the Lakers. He had the game-winning free throw in a win at Minnesota. And last night in Toronto he capped a 27-point performance by tying the game with a three-point play in the final minute and then, with star Amare Stoudemire buried as a decoy in the corner and star Carmelo Anthony a spectator on the bench, the kid arrogantly waved off his teammates and calmly drilled a straightaway 3-pointer with 0.5 seconds remaining to stun the Raptors and quintuple the madness.
"He's come out of nowhere," says D'Antoni, who did not play the kid in 13 of New York's first 22 games. "What's happening here is not normal."
The guy who was a week ago sleeping on his brother's couch and was literally a day from being cut is now …
"The greatest story in sports," says teammate Jared Jeffries.
The Knicks have won six straight with the kid on the court and his 136 points in his first five NBA starts are the most ever, eclipsing the previous mark of 129 set by Hall of Famer Shaquille O'Neal.
Echoes even NBA commissioner David Stern, "I think it's wonderful."
The kid's success transcends the Knicks and New York's Chinatown. This week Madison Square Garden stock rose to an all-time high. His No. 17 jersey is the hottest in all of sports, much less the NBA. His stereotype says statistician, his substance says substitute, and yet s his story? Dumbfounding
From the end of the bench to the back pages of the New York newspapers and the front story on ESPN's Sportscenter? In one week? Yeah, right.
It's reality TV on mushrooms and steroids, with a Red Bull chaser. Screw Basketball Wives, this is Basketball Player. The kid's rise is the hottest thing to emanate from Harvard since Facebook.
Combine Lil' Bow Wow in Like Mike, Michael J. Fox in Teen Wolf, Will Farrell in Semi-Pro and throw in the most preposterous parts of The Fish That Saved Pittsburgh, White Men Can't Jump and Space Jam and … you'll be about halfway to the insanity of the kid's implausible script.
It's the greatest American-born, Taiwan-rooted athletic story since a 17-year-old unknown named Michael Chang beat Ivan Lendl and Stefan Edberg en route to win the 1989 French Open. It's leaving the most jaded skeptics with no other option than to watch the fantasy flick, mouth ajar, believing the unbelievable. In a lockout-shortened season riddled by condensed schedules and pitiful play, the kid has our ADD, microwave society suddenly stopped and taking notice about all the good things basketball has to offer.
Trying to explain the kid's success is like attempting to dissect how Adele can sing so beautifully American, yet talk in annoying, high-pitched, exaggerated British like an old washwoman from a Monty Python skit.
If you say you saw this coming, you're lying. And if you say you're not enjoying it, you're a hopeless curmudgeon bound and determined to hate sunshine and puppies and oxygen and life.
It's bigger than religion. While Tim Tebow was a Heisman Trophy winner who benefitted from a superb defense and minimal late-game success and shoved God down our throats en route to being the story of the NFL in 2011, the underdog kid is putting up historically good stats and keeping his Christianity as a subtle, understated asset. Tebow might have been divine intervention; the kid is all pick-and-roll acumen and sneaky athleticism.
"Our stories are different in a lot of different ways," the kid says. "I'm a fan of Tebow, I'm not afraid to say that. But our stories not necessarily comparable."
It's bigger than race. Oh, the kid still gets called racial slurs like "chink" and a sign at MSG last Friday night adoringly called him the "Yellow Mamba." But the substantial critics are being muffled and muted, unless your name is Floyd Mayweather.
"He's a good player but all the hype is because he's Asian," said Mayweather. "Black players do what he does every night and don't get the same praise."
No, actually, no NBA player – regardless of color – has ever produced a debut like this kid. And on Sunday at noon the Mavericks get their up-close look when they visit the Knicks before ABC's national television audience.
Once upon a time …
An undrafted 23-year-old Asian who made only $762,000 playing for a 14-15 team totally captivated the NBA and the sports world.
"What's my favorite nickname?" the kid says, repeating a question. "I kinda like Jeremy."
Oh forget it. No one would dare believe the Jeremy Shu-How Lin story.
Would you?
(Copyright 2012 CBS Radio Inc. / CBSDFW.com. All Rights Reserved.)
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