Heisler: Jeremy Lin, the “Taiwanese Tebow”, put in perspective

LOS ANGELES — Dear New York, give the rest of us a break, will you?

Before trying to put Jeremy Lin in some kind of perspective… or whatever you call a judgment based on 45 NBA games, the first 38 as the last man on three different teams’ benches, the last seven as a demigod… I don’t have one bad thing to say about him.

He has been great. He dominated games with great players on the floor like Kobe Bryant (whom he outscored, 38-34) and Deron Williams (whom he outscored 25-21).

He did things he knew how to do (take the ball to the hoop) and things he had barely tried at the NBA level (shoot it from beyond 15 feet).

He averaged 28 points, leading the woebegone 8-15 Knicks, who were in a death spiral, or at least a Mike D’Antoni-terminating-spiral with nine losses in their last 10, on a seven-game winning streak with big cheese Carmelo Anthony, who was supposed to do stuff like this, and Amare Stoudemire, who had devolved into the big cheese’s helper, each missing at least four of them.

This, of course, caused great rejoicing among the fans of Lin’s team.

Since the team was in New York instead of, say, Memphis, this meant the rest of us had to hear about it every minute of every day, as if no one ever did anything like it before.

Of course, no undrafted, twice-waived second-year NBA player ever did do anything like it, but that’s not setting the bar very high.

In any event, a craze was born, named Linsanity.

Of course, this was just a reworking of Vince Carter’s nickname, but originality isn’t the important thing here.

Zooming into gag-me-with-a-spoon stage, the craze produced stories about “Linning” becoming a “meme.”

“Linning” is copying his six-step handshake with teammate Landry Fields.

If you don’t know what a “meme” is, I don’t either, but it sounds very hip.

Of course, how long could it be before Linsanity turned around and devoured Lin?

When Lin thanked God in a post-game interview, it let to a Washington Post story in which his pastor in Mountain View, Calif., noted, “Very early in his life he decided to pay heed to the call of Christ to take up the cross daily and follow after him.”

Thus did Lin became the latest religious/athletic icon, dubbed “the Taiwanese Tebow.”

Not that this was so great.

Tim Tebow, the Denver Broncos rookie whose improbable rise from backup quarterback to lead his woebegone team into the playoffs, became a lightning rod, beloved by Christians, viewed skeptically by NFL purists like ESPN commentator Merrill Hoge and believers in separation of church and sport the world over.

It’s true, Tebow got a lot of endorsements because of his following, which he got because of his faith.

On the other hand, Tebow looks like an exemplary, stand-up young guy who works hard, is anything but a self-promoter and has made every team he ever played for a winner.

If Lin has barely uttered a word on the subject since his breakout, the New York Times’ Michael Luo felt obliged to defend him in a column, noting, “I have the sense that his is a quieter, potentially less polarizing but no less devout style of faith.”

He means it’s less polarizing than Tebow’s faith.

Don’t we guarantee freedom of religion around here?

If you think the world is too nuts to go on much longer, keep reading.

Of course, there was soon a backlash, as crazy as the frontlash, er, the original story.

Forget Floyd Mayweather’s dumb, racist jibe about Lin getting his hype because he’s Asian. Boxers, who get hit in the head a lot and whose contests are all one-off promotions, are used to saying outrageous, idiotic and/or bigoted things, and Mayweather is even outrageous for a boxer, as he showed with a stereotype-laden attack at the guy he has ben ducking, Filipino Manny Pacquiao, AKA “that little yellow chump.”

On the other hand, Fox.com’s Jason Whitlock, who’s supposed to be a professional journalist, joined in after Lin got 38 against the Lakers, tweeting, “Some lucky lady in NYC is gonna feel a couple inches of pain tonight.”

Whitlock then apologized, putting the blame on “part of my personality–my immature, sophomoric, comedic nature.”

So, if I’m going to assert that Lin’s New York-ness has more to do with this hype than his Asian-ness (at least in North America), and much more to do with it than his Christian-ness, I have to put that in context.

Yes, I root against everything New York, for the same basic reason everyone else does:

Most of us don’t live there.

As fans, we all look down on, resentfully look up at, scorn, root against or say we hate every place we don’t live.

New York, the world’s biggest city, financial center and media center, is hated, feared and admired more than any other city.

Los Angeles, my home, is the nation’s second most hated, feared and admired city, so anything that goes for New York, goes for us, too.

(Actually, with our lavish self-adoration and tricks like calling someone back East and saying, “How’s the weather?” we may be hated every bit as much as New York.)

Chicago may seem like a hayseed capital to people from New York or Los Angeles, but in the 90 percent of the country that lies between the New York and California state lines, it casts its own shadow, causing it to be feared, hated and loved, too.

As in, if I hear one more word about the Cubs curse, or the Red Sox curse, or anyone else’s curse that’s not local, I’m going to lose it.

Same for Dallas in Texas… and Atlanta in the Southeast… and Miami in Florida… and Seattle in the Pacific Northwest, where Trail Blazers fans grumble about being part of the empire of Seattle-based Paul Allen.

Actually, it doesn’t happen to be any of our business what Lin believes, unless he makes it our business, which he hasn’t done.

I can’t imagine anyone who thinks Asians get a break in the NBA or American professional sports getting this deep into this story.

However, if you do, you’re wrong.

The interesting thing about this–apart from watching everyone take leave of their senses in this story–is figuring out how someone waived by two teams could play at this level, and what kind of player he’ll be.

As to how he could be this good and two teams missed it….

Lin is an unusual player. Stereotypes notwithstanding, he’s big for a point guard, measured at 6-3 in stocking feet in the 2010 pre-draft camp.

He also has long arms to go with a killer crossover, so he not only can get to the basket, he’s adept at reaching around defenders to finish.

So, as teams will soon realize, forget about putting someone with short arms, like Derek Fisher, on him.

However, if Lin was a good shooter at Harvard—he shot 52% as a senior, making 34% of his threes—he had yet to show it in the NBA.

Put another way, he had yet to show he was good enough to play enough to settle in and start making shots.

However you put it, before his seven-game run to glory that started Feb. 4, when he came off the bench to score 36 points against the Nets, he was shooting 39 percent for his 38-game career and 1-10 on threes.

That’s how everyone missed on him.

If Golden State owner Joe Lacob doted on Lin, it doesn’t matter whether an undrafted rookie guard can’t shoot, or might be able to if he has time to settle in.

If he doesn’t make some shots right away, he won’t get a chance to settle in.

With the Knicks, it was sheer desperation. After waiving Chauncey Billups to sign Tyson Chandler, their only point guards were rookie Iman Shumpert, who impressed, then turned back into a rookie; injured, slumping combo guard Toney Douglas; and endlessly-rehabbing Baron Davis.

So, Lin, the 10th player Mike D’Antoni puts in against the Nets, catches fire, scoring 36, going 10-19 from the floor (if 0-4 from the arc) and is immediately chosen to make his first NBA start!

Voila! He shows he really does have game, getting to the hoop often enough to score 28 against the Jazz, shooting nine free throws.

Then, when the Lakers do the smart thing, going under the pick-and-rolls and letting Lin take any outside shot he wants, he starts making those, too, going 13-24 from the floor and 2-4 from the arc!

So, what does that make him?

Like I know, or anyone else knows.

At this point, I’d say he looks like a starting NBA point guard, who has everything but shooting range, which will determine if he becomes good, very good or great.

Streaks like his are rare, but we’ve seen them.

In Brandon Jennings’ first seven games on 2009, including his breakout 55-point game, he averaged 25.6 points and five assists. and shot 49 percent.

Since, Jennings has averaged 15 points, shooting 38 percent.

If Lin gets close to his college numbers, 50 percent from the floor, 34 percent on 3s, we’re talking star. If he matches his college numbers, we’re talking major star.

If he can’t shoot at all, neither can Rajon Rondo and Ricky Rubio, and they’re impact players, nonetheless.

Not that Lin is a once-in-a-generation playmaker like Rubio, or an unguardable penetrator like Rondo.

That’s the one thing we do know about him: He’s the first and only Jeremy Lin we’ve ever seen.

Mark Heisler is a regular contributor to SheridanHoops, LakersNation and the Old Gray Lady. His columns and power rankings appear here each Wednesday. Follow him on Twitter.