Just by showing up in Cambridge, Lin was a local favorite, if only because he grew up in Palo Alto but snubbed Stanford. Actually, it was Stanford, and lots of other programs, that snubbed him.
With an admirable work ethic, he made himself into the Ivy League’s best player. But the Ivies produce a lot more Nobel laureates in the academy than point guards in the NBA. Only three other Harvard players ever made it to the NBA, and the last one played when Dwight Eisenhower was president.
Lin could have walked into any of the investment banks and started a nice career. But even after he went undrafted, he scratched around NBA camps, trying to catch on.
His hometown Golden State Warriors took a chance, then cut him. Ditto the Houston Rockets. And it was only because of others’ injuries that Lin found himself on the New York Knicks bench and then, improbably, in the starting lineup.
Lin led the Knicks on a terrific streak, winning games while scoring points at a rate no one could have predicted. On Sunday, in a nationally televised game, he handed out a career-high 14 assists, scored 28 points, and helped the Knicks beat the defending champion Dallas Mavericks.
But Lin is as much a cultural phenomenon as a sporting one. This economics major is having a major economic impact on basketball. After losing its biggest Asian star, Yao Ming, to retirement, and starting this season with a two-month lockout, the NBA can thank Lin for this overnight burst of domestic and international interest and excitement. He is the first American of Taiwanese descent to play in the NBA and there are viewing parties from Taipei to Hong Kong.
Knicks jerseys with his name on the back have been shipped to more than 20 countries, and Knicks super fan Spike Lee started a new trend Sunday when he was repeatedly shown on TV wearing a crimson Harvard jersey with Lin’s name and old No. 4 on the back. The Coop can expect a run.
