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Chapter 386: 2011 NBA Draft 2
🕑 Added 2025-10-08 22:27:23 +0000 UTCWhat does it really mean when a dream becomes reality?
For Klay Thompson, that question hit home the moment NBA Commissioner David Stern announced his name as the 8th overall pick in the 2011 NBA Draft.
For a split second, Klay froze — then broke into a wide grin, wrapping his father, Mychal Thompson, in a hug so tight it nearly lifted the two-time NBA champion off his feet.
“My boy’s going to the league,” Mychal laughed.
But when Klay caught sight of the Knicks logo on the cap in the staffer’s hand, his expression shifted.
“Wait… I’m going to New York?” he muttered, still trying to process it.
Of all the teams, the Knicks hadn’t even called him. No private workout, no interview, nothing.
“Am I… a trade piece?” he wondered aloud, his heart caught somewhere between excitement and uncertainty.
Meanwhile, back in New York, Lin Yi was sitting on his couch, watching the broadcast and nearly choking on his drink from laughter when he saw Klay’s confused expression.
He’d expected that reaction.
This was all part of the Knicks’ plan — one Lin had suggested.
Klay wasn’t just another draft pick; he was the piece. A pure 3-and-D guard with textbook mechanics and that rare, rhythmic shooting form that could heat up in seconds. When he caught fire, even players like Durant had to take notice.
Lin had his reasons.
First, with Chris Paul joining the team, the Knicks needed an off-ball weapon — someone who didn’t need to dominate the ball but could stretch the floor and punish defenders. Klay was tailor-made for that role.
Second, as much as Lin respected Kawhi Leonard’s defensive potential, his offensive game still needed time. The Knicks weren’t looking to develop a contender; they were looking to defend a championship and start a dynasty. Klay’s immediate impact was exactly what they needed.
And lastly — well, Klay’s agent was none other than Zhong Muchen.
Compared to Leonard’s unpredictable camp, working with Zhong made things smooth. Plus, having both Lin and Klay under the same agency umbrella made everything easier.
Anta would be thrilled later, too — Klay’s brand appeal would explode. Unlike some star players who threw tantrums or made demands, Klay was low-maintenance, funny, and genuinely likable.
Lin’s first chess piece was now in place.
The next pick?
That was reserved for blocking the Spurs.
…
Klay stepped up onto the draft stage, his expression a mix of pride and disbelief. He slipped on the Knicks cap, adjusted it, and shook Stern’s hand — but his mind was still spinning.
The Knicks? Really? And Zhong hadn’t said a word?
“Lin just tweeted!” Kenny Smith suddenly said on the broadcast desk.
Charles Barkley raised a brow. “What’s the kid saying this time?”
Kenny laughed. “He wrote: ‘Welcome, Klay Thompson. Get ready for the Knicks’ Splash Brothers show next season!’”
“‘Splash Brothers’? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Barkley asked.
Kenny grinned. “Lin’s talking about their shooting — that ‘splash’ sound when the ball swishes through the net. He’s saying he and Klay are gonna rain threes.”
Barkley chuckled. “Man, Lin’s always cooking up these terms.”
What the world didn’t know was that Lin had registered the Splash Brothers nickname before anyone else could. A little foresight, a little showmanship — all part of his plan.
Back on stage, reporters had just mentioned the tweet to Klay, who suddenly relaxed.
“‘Splash Brothers,’ huh?” he smiled. “Tell Lin I won’t let him down. Shooting’s what I do best. New York’s gonna love it.”
Confidence — that was Klay in a nutshell. Lin admired that about him.
Even back in college, Klay had been quietly driven. In Lin’s past life, Klay’d never forgotten that Jimmer Fredette was drafted ahead of him, and it bugged him. Not out of jealousy, but pride. He knew he was the best shooter in the 2011 class.
That fire — calm, contained, but always burning — was exactly what Lin wanted beside him.
…
At Lin’s Manhattan villa, James Harden was sprawled on the couch next to him, stroking his beard whilst eating some chips as he watched the coverage.
“‘Splash Brothers,’ huh?” Harden grinned. “That’s actually pretty catchy. I like the sound of that.”
Lin chuckled. “Don’t get any ideas. You and nightlife already have too much chemistry.”
Harden laughed, “Hey, I’ve heard about Klay. His dad was a no.1 draft pick— Lakers guy, right?”
“Yeah,” Lin nodded.
…
At the draft venue, Mychal Thompson was practically glowing. His boy was headed to New York City — the media capital of the world — and the defending champions, no less.
He hadn’t even finished congratulating him when Klay turned and said confidently, “Dad, I’m gonna have more rings than you someday.”
Mychal blinked, then chuckled, shaking his head. “Talk to me when you get your first one.”
Still, the words made him proud. He’d worried about Klay’s focus before — the nights out, the occasional recklessness — but deep down, he knew his son was wired differently. He loved to play, sure, but when it came to the game, he was serious. Always had been.
That balance — carefree off the court, laser-focused on it — would carry Klay far.
Meanwhile, Lin glanced at Harden again and sighed. “Yeah, you’re definitely going back to OKC tomorrow. The last thing I need is you and Klay turning New York into Club City.”
Harden smirked. “You act like that’s a bad thing.”
Lin ignored him, checking his phone again. The Knicks’ Plan A was complete — Klay was secured.
Now he was curious what Jerry West had planned for his counterplay.
...
At the draft venue, the Warriors’ front office looked completely blindsided. No one had expected the Knicks to swoop in like that.
They had literally just gotten off the phone with New York. The Knicks’ response had been short and sharp:
“We came specifically for Klay Thompson.”
The room fell silent. A few executives exchanged blank stares, and someone let out a helpless sigh.
Seriously, the Knicks were too slick. No leaks, no rumors, no whispers in the media—nothing. They just came in, made their pick, and left the rest of the league guessing.
But then, Jerry West’s calm, almost reassuring smile returned. The legendary man didn’t look angry or frustrated—if anything, he looked like a chess player who had just lost a pawn but still saw checkmate in sight.
“Relax,” he said with his usual quiet confidence. “If Plan A’s gone, we still have Plan B.”
That was Jerry West for you. He never relied on a single plan. There was always a contingency, always another card to play. And that other plan came from a certain someone he’d been exchanging emails with—someone Jerry wasn’t particularly fond of but couldn’t deny had an eye for talent that bordered on genius.
Meanwhile, after the Knicks stole Klay at No. 8, the Pistons happily grabbed Jimmer Fredette with the 9th pick. The league was entering the three-point era, and shooters were suddenly the new gold.
Fredette’s college résumé was insane. His time at BYU was spent rewriting the record books. Listed at 188, Fredette’s touch from deep was pure. After his stint with Team USA as a practice partner, scouts were convinced he could be the next Curry-type success story.
The Pistons thought they’d struck gold. They saw a sharpshooter who could light up scoreboards and fill seats.
But touch—real touch—isn’t something you can measure in a workout.
Plenty of shooters look automatic in practice. You see it in the CBA too: guys knocking down 7 or 8 out of 10 from NBA range when no one’s guarding them. But once the lights, pressure, and defense kick in the NBA… everything changes.
That’s what made Klay Thompson special. His accuracy wasn’t a product of rhythm or comfort—it was pure instinct. Whether it was the Finals or a random Tuesday night, the man’s form and confidence never wavered.
Years later, when the Thunder actually found a way to slow down the Warriors’ Death Lineup, Klay’s shooting was what crushed them anyway. He burned Durant so badly that night that KD ended up joining him.
Thirty-seven points in one quarter. Sixty points in three quarters, while only holding the ball for a total of ninety seconds. That’s not hot; that’s supernatural lava.
Lin Yi had always known Fredette wouldn’t make it in the NBA. In China, sure—he’d be a legend. But in the NBA, he’d just be another shooter.
Then came the moment that made Lin Yi nearly spill his drink.
He and Harden were lounging on the couch, watching the draft coverage, when the next announcement came through:
“With the 10th pick in the 2011 NBA Draft, the Golden State Warriors select… Kawhi Leonard, from San Diego State University.”
The entire room froze for a beat.
And then—
“WHAT?!”
Lin practically jumped up, shouting in disbelief. He even smacked the coffee table hard enough to rattle the glasses.
The Knicks had gotten Klay, sure—but now the Warriors had landed Kawhi?
That was just unfair.
And the craziest part? The real shockers of the night weren’t even over yet.
Comments
GRANDMAESTA_30
Always welcome 👍
Obeco
Thanks for the chapter boss
