Latest news with #JeremyLin
Yahoo
a day ago
- Sport
- Yahoo
Jeremy Lin embraces mentorship role with Asian American college players
[Source] Last week, former NBA star Jeremy Lin launched the inaugural JLIN NextGen Basketball Camp in his hometown of Palo Alto, California, bringing together 12 standout Asian American college players for a three-day, invitation-only training program. The camp marks Lin's formal shift from professional athlete to mentor as he invests in developing the next generation of talent. At 36, Lin is still active professionally with the New Taipei Kings in Taiwan but is now channeling his experience into building up the next generation. As the first Taiwanese American to play in the NBA, his journey remains a defining moment for Asian American representation in sports. 'Every time I hear about [Linsanity], I'm like, 'Don't tell me how old you were when it happened. ... A lot of people still care about it,'' he told the Bay Area News Group. Lin led the camp's training sessions personally, offering insight and guidance to athletes navigating a path few have taken. Training covered skill development, strength conditioning and professional insights from Lin, who emphasized leadership and mindset alongside basketball fundamentals. Lin said he hopes the camp will foster a stronger sense of identity and connection among Asian American athletes, many of whom are often the only ones representing their background on their teams. He also urged generational unity, expressing frustration when older Asian American athletes criticize younger ones instead of uplifting them. Trending on NextShark: This story is part of The Rebel Yellow Newsletter — a bold weekly newsletter from the creators of NextShark, reclaiming our stories and celebrating Asian American voices. Subscribe free to join the movement. If you love what we're building, consider becoming a paid member — your support helps us grow our team, investigate impactful stories, and uplift our community. Trending on NextShark: Subscribe here now! Download the NextShark App: Want to keep up to date on Asian American News? Download the NextShark App today!
Yahoo
6 days ago
- Sport
- Yahoo
"He was like, 'Dude I couldn't believe you did that'" - Jeremy Lin recalls how Kobe Bryant acknowledged his iconic 38-point MSG game
"He was like, 'Dude I couldn't believe you did that'" - Jeremy Lin recalls how Kobe Bryant acknowledged his iconic 38-point MSG game originally appeared on Basketball Network. It had been two years since that unforgettable night at Madison Square Garden — the night Jeremy Lin exploded for 38 points against Kobe Bryant and the Los Angeles Lakers. By the time Lin arrived in L.A. as Bryant's teammate, the Linsanity wave had already crested. The hype had faded, the headlines cooled. But the memory of that February night still lingered — especially between the two men at the center of it. When Lin finally got to wear the purple and gold and walk into that locker room, the moment came — quiet, but unforgettable. When things come full circle Lin still remembers the car ride, the small talk that morphed into something much more. He'd waited for this kind of moment, and when it arrived, it was all the sweeter for how understated it was. "When we were teammates he just briefly mentioned it," Lin recalled in an interview with GQ Sports. "He was like, 'Dude I couldn't believe you did that. And after you did that, that's when I had a lot of respect for you.'" For any player, those words would carry their own weight. Coming from Kobe, a man whose respect had to be earned the hard way, it was no small compliment. Lin had shown up at Madison Square Garden on Feb. 10, 2012, with the world watching No. 24 in purple. But it was the rising Asian basketball sensation who stole the show, hitting pull-up jumpers, attacking the rim and finishing with a career-high 38 points in a 92-85 Knicks win. The Garden roared every time he touched the ball, and Bryant, though visibly frustrated that night, never dismissed what he saw. Lin admitted he was stunned when Bryant brought it up years later, in that casual yet disarming way only Kobe could manage. "I was like, okay wow that was really impressive," Lin said of the exchange. "So we did talk about it afterwards." In that instant, it was clear the game had come full circle for respect of a legend The first few weeks of Lin's stint with the Lakers felt surreal. Not just because of the bright lights of Staples Center or the expectations of donning a jersey with all that history stitched into it, but because every day meant sharing the floor with the man he'd once lit up under the most unforgiving spotlight in sports. He came into the Lakers locker room a bit older and certainly wiser than the kid who'd sprinted through defenses in New York. But there was still that glimmer of the underdog in him. The hunger never left. Bryant's comment was brief but revealing and a rare peek into the way he kept mental notes about everyone who crossed his path. Lin's night at the Garden wasn't just a fluke in Bryant's eyes. Even though the Lakers at that time were a team trying to find itself again, Lin took pride in the small moments. Moments like watching Bryant command the respect of the room, even when his body began to betray him. Moments like hearing that quiet acknowledgment of what Lin had done on that snowy night in Manhattan. It spoke to something larger than just basketball — the recognition of a battle well fought, of someone stepping into their moment when the world least expected it. Lin would later say the memory of Kobe's words meant more than he could have ever said in that moment. For a kid who'd gone undrafted, cut more than once, and nearly faded into obscurity before Linsanity — that respect felt like validation. By the time their time as teammates ended, Lin had learned plenty more from Bryant — about preparation, mental toughness, and owning your moment when it comes. But nothing quite matched that quiet car ride, that short exchange, that unmistakable feeling of a circle being closed. Though they didn't linger on the subject, Lin walked away knowing he'd left a mark. And that Kobe, in his own way, had let him know story was originally reported by Basketball Network on Aug 3, 2025, where it first appeared.
San Francisco Chronicle
04-08-2025
- Sport
- San Francisco Chronicle
Jeremy Lin embraces shift from NBA pioneer to Asian American mentor
Jeremy Lin says he learned the hard way what it means to be a pioneer. His legendary two-week stretch off the bench in 2012 to turn around the struggling New York Knicks — famously dubbed 'Linsanity' — made Lin a global sensation. With the Raptors in 2019, the Palo Alto native, Harvard alum and former phenom closed his career by becoming the first Asian American player to win an NBA championship when Toronto beat the Golden State Warriors in the Finals. For all his success, though, Lin still had one wish: to look around the court and see faces that looked like his. Lin and his business team took matters into their own hands when they decided to start JLIN NextGen Basketball Camp, a three-day, invitation-only gathering of 11 AAPI collegiate players at the top of their game. The camp ended Sunday. 'For me, it was two motivations. One was just to be able to kind of share what I've picked up through the course of my career, a lot of lessons I've learned the hard way. Things I wish I knew when I was their age,' the now 36-year-old Lin told the Chronicle. 'The second thing is, can we create community around this? It comes back from maybe me feeling the lack of that, of feeling the weight of being a trailblazer, or the weight of being 'the first' or 'the only.'' For camp participants, Lin was not just 'the only,' he was the blueprint. As much value as Lin finds in sharing his experiences, the players found it difficult to put into words what Lin's mentorship means to them. They say never meet your heroes. That didn't hold true for them. 'I went to the same high school as him, there was a life-size cutout sticker on the wall of him. So every time I had a practice or a game, I would look up and see him on the wall,' Cal Poly-San Luis Obispo point guard Annika Shah said. 'Being an Asian athlete myself, I really look up to him and everything that he's done in his career. It's just super inspiring. It makes me want to write my own story just like him.' The effort Lin expected of the players he emulated himself — running up and down the court, shirt soaked just as everyone else's were. He coached as if the group were more than a three-day camp — the team might as well have been his own. The participants didn't just receive coaching from Lin. They can accurately say they've hooped with him. 'As much as I can get on the court, at least in a small capacity, whether it's like just now, screening and rolling or sometimes I'm kind of a defender. I want to at least add a little bit of that,' Lin said. 'And I see everybody competing and working hard, it's like, man, I want to be out with them, too.' Following the drills, the players took part in a friendly half-court game — and Lin was a part of the core. He set screens, tallied assists and even drove the ball to the rim a few times himself. In one instance, Lin put up a 3-pointer. He and the other players shared a good chuckle when his shot bounced off the rim. Lin immediately returned with an effortless layup. 'It's just been cool to be on the floor with him. You know, him showing you moves firsthand, him showing you his techniques and tendencies,' said Stanford guard Ryan Agarwal. 'And just being able to learn from a pro that you grew up watching. It's pretty amazing.' Lin says he remembers the small interactions he had with league legends early in his NBA career. He hopes this can be one of those special moments for the training camp participants. Fifteen years later, Lin knows the professional basketball landscape. After nine years in the NBA, Lin left the United States in 2019 to sign with the Beijing Ducks of the Chinese Basketball Association. He quickly became an All-Star. Lin now plays for New Taipei Kings in the Taiwan Professional Basketball League. But for how much longer, he doesn't quite know. What he does know is that his love for the game remains unchanged — and his desire to help his community remains firmer. While he has his eyes set on the present, his training camp may fit into his future plans. 'This (camp) is my first time being like a full-time trainer, per se,' Lin said. 'But now to be fully focused on the athletes and to not get any work for myself, I guess it's a transition to maybe the next chapter of my life. I'm just really grateful for the athletes coming out and giving me a chance to just be able to kind of share with them … so hopefully it just continues to grow.'
Yahoo
26-07-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
"I definitely wouldn't have quit ahead of time" - Jeremy Lin on how he almost decided to give up on the NBA before Linsanity
"I definitely wouldn't have quit ahead of time" - Jeremy Lin on how he almost decided to give up on the NBA before Linsanity originally appeared on Basketball Network. The hardest part about reaching a dream is what happens when it starts slipping through your fingers again and again. Jeremy Lin, before the lead-up to his historic, culture-shifting breakout with the New York Knicks in early 2012, he was in a war of attrition between hope and heartbreak, in which survival often came down to little more than roster spots and who a team thought was expendable. Months before the Linsanity fever echoed across Madison Square Garden, Lin was jobless on Christmas Eve 2011 and caught in a career collapse that had nothing to do with his talent and everything to do with timing. Waived again On Dec. 24, 2011, while awaiting a positive call from the Houston Rockets, where he had an impressive training camp, he got a call that he would be waived. It was a technical decision as they wanted to clear space to sign center Samuel Dalembert. But for Lin, it felt like the end. "It's Christmas — I just got cut and I think my NBA career is over. And two months later was Linsanity," he recalled. "If I didn't have my family there, I wouldn't have made it to Linsanity. I definitely would have quit ahead of time." The Golden State Warriors had already given up on him once. Despite showing flashes of brilliance and having a massive Bay Area fanbase due to his Palo Alto roots and Harvard background, Lin was the casualty of a new regime. The 2011 NBA lockout had upended the usual rhythm of the league, compressing training camps and transactions into chaos. With no time to impress incoming head coach Mark Jackson and an $800,000 contract looming, the Warriors waived Lin on Dec. 9 to clear space for a run at DeAndre Jordan. Just three days later, the Rockets claimed Lin off waivers. But Houston's depth chart at point guard with Kyle Lowry, Goran Dragic and Jonny Flynn all with guaranteed contracts meant that Lin was on the outside looking in again. He played only seven minutes across two preseason games. Barely a blip. At that point, Lin had only appeared in 29 games the previous season, mostly in garbage time. No multi-year contract. No endorsements. Just uncertainty and the ache of being passed over. At 23 years old, he was already cut twice in two weeks. It seemed like he had already gone sprout The Rockets hadn't wanted to let him go, not really. Lin had impressed in training camp. His instincts, work ethic and floor awareness had caught the attention of the coaching staff. But NBA rosters are bound by hard numbers. Fifteen guaranteed contracts left no room for sentiment. So Houston's front office made a phone call. They told Lin's agent to hang tight for 24 hours; if they could move someone, Lin might stay. That day became one of the longest and nerve-wracking for Lin as his future was hanging by a transaction thread. "I'm thinking, 'I had just gotten cut by Golden State. If I get cut again four weeks later, I'm probably done. This is probably the end of my NBA career," Lin said. The Rockets didn't clear the space, and Lin was waived once more, and that's when New York stepped in. The Knicks were short-handed after an injury to rookie guard Iman Shumpert. Their point guard rotation — Toney Douglas and Mike Bibby — was underperforming and they needed depth. They took a flyer on Lin, a no-risk move for a team barely keeping its season alive. For Lin, it was a final thread of hope. He joined the team quietly. No fanfare. Assigned to the Erie BayHawks in the D-League, called back days later, benched, ignored. The Knicks were 8–15, spiraling out of control. Lin didn't play meaningful minutes until Feb. 4, when he scored 25 points against the New Jersey Nets and sparked a seven-game win streak that captivated New York and the world. By mid-February, Lin had become the first player in NBA history to record at least 20 points and seven assists in each of his first five starts. Ticket sales soared. TV ratings exploded. The Knicks' merchandise became a top seller. In China and Taiwan, Lin's jersey topped the charts. Linsanity became a movement. But it almost never happened. Had the Rockets held onto one extra contract, had the Warriors been slightly more patient or had Lin simply walked away after that second waiver, none of it would have unfolded. There would be no game-winner against the Raptors. No 38-point outburst versus the Los Angeles Lakers. No cultural milestone that gave countless Asian-American kids a reason to story was originally reported by Basketball Network on Jul 20, 2025, where it first appeared.
Yahoo
25-07-2025
- Sport
- Yahoo
"It was just too much for me at the time. I just couldn't handle the pressure" - Jeremy Lin on why his stint with the Warriors became a painful memory
"It was just too much for me at the time. I just couldn't handle the pressure" - Jeremy Lin on why his stint with the Warriors became a painful memory originally appeared on Basketball Network. Perhaps he still shakes his head when he thinks back to those first days with the Golden State Warriors. On paper, it looked like a dream come true. Local kid, California Player of the Year, state champion, walking into the NBA with something to prove. But the reality was… "It was just too much for me at the time," Jeremy Lin, once the author of basketball's greatest two-week spectacles, admitted. "I just couldn't handle the pressure." A perplexing memory He was 22 years old then, just trying to keep his head above water. The team was already a mess that year — losing games, searching for direction — and Lin felt it all stacking on top of him. He had grown up watching the Warriors. Now he was wearing the jersey, sitting on the bench most nights, and trying to convince everyone he belonged. And even getting there took a stroke of luck. "Joe Lacob [the executive chairman of the Warriors] did that because he saw me and I grew up playing against his son," Lin said, referring to Lacob signing him after he went undrafted in 2010. "That's the reason why I was able to get into the NBA. If that wasn't the case, I wouldn't have gotten a chance." That part still eats at him a little, because Lin's resume was no joke. He averaged 15 points and nearly six assists at Harvard. He was California's best high school player in 2006 — better numbers than guys who got full rides to powerhouse programs. Won a state title. In pre-draft workouts, he outplayed several first-rounders. "And still," Lin said, "being one of the best point guards in the country, crushing it in all of my workouts, and going undrafted… That's a lot of what ends up happening when you talk about what it's like to not look the part." He didn't say it with anger, just new opportunity It wasn't the last time he'd feel it, either. Years later, he dominated in the G League — finishing top five in multiple statistical categories — and still couldn't get a team to sign him. "I was a top league leader in points, assists, efficiency and still not getting an NBA contract when everybody else that was a league leader got one," he said. Even in those early Warriors practices, you could tell he was pressing. He wanted to prove so badly that he belonged that he sometimes got in his own way. Nights where he'd check in for six to eight minutes, barely touch the ball, then go back to the bench, trying to figure out what he did wrong. And the numbers backed it up: Lin appeared in just 29 games that year, averaging under three points and an assist in about nine minutes a night. He shot 38 percent from the field. Not exactly a fair chance to showcase anything, but that's the way the league works sometimes. Golden State would waive him the next year. Looking back now, Lin doesn't seem bitter about it, though you can still hear the disappointment under his words. But what he's quick to point out is the bigger picture. The way his story shines a light on how hard it is for some players — particularly Asian-Americans — to even get seen, no matter what they accomplish. He perhaps smiles now when he tells it. But he remembers. How much it hurt. How much it fueled him. And maybe that's why those early struggles ended up becoming part of his legend — proof that the pressure didn't break him, even if it bent him for a little while. For Lin, it started with a dream and a little help from a connection. But the rest was all him. And even though it didn't work out in Golden State, it's hard to argue with how the story turned story was originally reported by Basketball Network on Jul 25, 2025, where it first appeared.
