All he does is Lin, Lin, Lin, no matter what

Photo courtesy of DvYang’s stream on flickr.com. Knicks’ coach Mike D’antoni says he’s riding Lin “like freakin’ Secretariat!”

Wow. Thanks a lot, Jeremy Lin. Now I have to root for the Knicks.

As a general rule, I only follow two teams: my alma mater’s (Go Bruins!) and the Lakers. Neither team has been particularly exciting these past few years. Don’t even mention CP3; everyone knows there’s only one basketball team in L.A. Los Angeles isn’t a football town, and UCLA isn’t a football school (Sorry, Bruins), so it’s been fairly simple to live a life of limited sports consumption.

Until recently, Jeremy Lin was only well-known in Asian-American communities. Chinese and Taiwanese press have been tracking his career for years, but nothing much came out of it. Undrafted after college, Lin was shuffled between various teams. He scored single digits in every game he played. He’s been in and out of the D-League, as recently as just a few weeks ago. He’s only 6’3. His contract with the Knicks wasn’t even guaranteed until last week, so Lin has been sleeping on his brother’s couch in lieu of securing permanent housing.

Of course, after last week’s crazy, career-making games, Lin is no longer exclusively a matter of Asian media speculation.  As of last Friday, Lin has helped the Knicks to four back-to-back wins, with new career highs every night. Lin is the first player since LeBron to score over twenty points and eight assists in his first two starting games. He’s been compared to Steve Nash. He scored more points than Kobe in a game everyone incorrectly predicted the Lakers would win. Lin’s surprise success has started a media frenzy, which some have termed “Linsanity.” Everyone loves an underdog, and Lin’s path to the NBA is definitely an unusual one.

Lin is the first American-born NBA player of Chinese or Taiwanese descent, and only the fourth ever Asian-American. Lin’s career may not be the typical NBA story, but it does seem to follow the formula for your average inspiring documentary/biopic. Lin’s father immigrated to the United States with two goals: to get a Ph.D. and to watch the NBA. He taught himself the game by studying VHS tapes of late-70’s NBA greats. When his sons were old enough, Lin’s father took them for 90-minute practices three times a week at their local Y.

All three of the Lin brothers played ball at school, but Jeremy stood out. Senior year, he led his high school team to a 32-1 season and a state championship. However, even with his proven track record, no major universities were willing to give him a shot, not even in his home state of California. Lin was forced to settle for Harvard (poor guy), where he excelled, setting records for his university and for the Ivy League. He also graduated with a 3.1 and a degree in Economics.

I look forward to seeing the inevitable film about Lin’s life and career, provided Lin continues defying the odds, even in the face of rising expectations. Lin’s newfound fame means he won’t be able to rely on the element of surprise much longer. Opposing teams will learn to work against him, though the Wizards’ attempts to double-team him on Wednesday didn’t exactly work out for Washington (and the accelerated schedule makes it harder for teams to make adjustments). Lin doesn’t have extraordinary size or extraordinary speed.  But he has that most important Captain Planet value of them all: heart. He’s a team player, and you can tell his recent performance has energized the once-struggling Knicks.

It really is a good story. An underdog, in the face of adversity, challenging stereotypes and defying odds. Add to that the religious element. Lin’s Twitter profile photo is a cartoon featuring Jesus, and his devoutness has landed him comparisons to Tim “3:16” Tebow. In post-game interviews, he thanks his teammates and God fairly equally. Hopefully, Asian austerity will stop Lin from developing a trademark move or drawing religious symbolism on his face.

The best quirk Lin’s exhibited so far has to be what one reporter termed “the nerdiest handshake in NBA history.” Lin and teammate Landry Fields (a Stanford graduate) mime opening a book, putting on glasses, and then tucking said imaginary glasses into pocket protectors. Nerdy pre-game handshake notwithstanding, Lin has managed to maintain humility in the face of huge crowd support and growing media attention. This is the classic story of an All-American self-made man, Asian or not.

They used to make fun of him in the stands, calling out “sweet and sour pork” and various racial epithets. Now, the only thing people yell at him is “M.V.P.” In a culture where Asian-American men face negative stereotypes regarding masculinity and athleticism, Jeremy Lin has already become a national hero. It’s time to see how he fares in the eyes of the world at large. Ticket sales for the Knicks have already gone up manifold, and America is watching. From drills with his brothers at the local Y, to starting (and winning) at Madison Square Garden, Jeremy Lin has given us more than just a string of Knicks wins and an infusion of new blood to a fairly routine season.

Lin has given us a story to believe in—a long shot, dark horse, underdog story—that we can all follow from our seats at home in front of the T.V. This is the stuff that basketball legends are made of; this is why we watch sports. For a few nights a week, players like Jeremy give us a good story, and we can lose ourselves in the age-old narrative of David v. Goliath, of the individual against the world, of one man doing what he loves and finding success by working hard and persevering and never giving up.

Personally, I’m looking forward to the merchandise. Get excited, male Asian friends of mine. You will all be getting jerseys for Christmas if Jeremy Lin makes it big.