Jeremy Lin #17 of the New York Knicks shoots over Cole Aldrich #45 of the Oklahoma City Thunder on January 14, 2012 at the Chesapeake Energy Arena in Oklahoma City, Oklahoma.
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Lin initially demurs when asked about that sort of reaction. But then he flashes a familiar grin--the one fans see when he dishes passes to appreciative teammates or hits spinning layups and deep shots no one thought he could convert. "I'm just thankful to them," Lin says of his fervent supporters after a Knicks practice. "I'm humbled, really. I still feel like I have a long way to go and a lot more to do. But if I can inspire people along the way, you know, I'd love to do that."
Linsanity has global reach. His No. 17 jersey is now the top online seller in the NBA. Sales and traffic at the Knicks' official online store rose 3,000% in a week. The NBA's television partners in China, Taiwan and the Philippines rushed to add Knicks games. Lin's name was the third most searched term on Baidu.com China's leading search engine. Taiwan's President, Ma Ying-jeou, has implored his new Cabinet to act Lin-like--in other words, to work as a team. In Taiwan, Lin is known as "the little guy from Harvard," even though at 6 ft. 3 in. (191 cm), he's taller than most Taiwanese. It's a term of endearment.
As a high school prospect, Lin never got such love from college coaches, who couldn't imagine the pencil-necked point guard expanding his razor-thin frame. He was raised in Palo Alto, Calif., where his father, Gie-Ming Lin, a computer engineer, would study film of Larry Bird, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and other NBA stars and tutor young Jeremy at the local YMCA--after his son finished his homework. "I cannot explain the reasons why I love basketball," Gie-Ming told me a couple of years ago. "I just do." Lin led his high school team to a state championship, but even Bill Holden, the former Harvard assistant who recruited him, first thought Lin was destined for small-college Division III. Then Holden stumbled on a Lin game against some serious competition in a Las Vegas tournament and saw a serious competitor. "The bigger the stage, the more he brings it," says Holden. "He's always had that."
In college, Lin faced additional challenges, including frequent racial taunts--real original stuff, like a fan yelling, "Sweet-and-sour pork!" Opposing Ivy League gyms housed the worst offenders. One rival player even called Lin a C word that rhymes with ink.
Despite a strong senior year, in which he rang up 30 points against perennial NCAA championship contender the University of Connecticut, no NBA team picked Lin in the draft. "Truth be told, we were devastated," says Lin's agent, Roger Montgomery. Did Lin's ethnicity work against him? "Absolutely," says Montgomery. An impressive showing in an NBA summer league earned Lin a contract with his hometown team, the Golden State Warriors, where he rode the bench and shuttled to the minors on three occasions. Skeptics wondered if the Warriors had signed Lin as a marketing draw, to appeal to Bay Area Asian Americans. "Oh, my, he was frustrated," says Lin's high school coach, Peter Diepenbrock.