The Times: Yao is Answer Stopper

Sorry if this has already been posted. I checked several pages of threads before doing so.

Tuesday, November 18, 2003

No mystery to Rockets' answer for The Answer
The Times
HARVEY YAVENER


PHILADELPHIA - It shouldn't need to be a case for Sherlock Holmes. The numbers seem to make the answer obvious to any Dr. Watson.

On Jan. 15, 2002, Allen Iverson scored 58 points here against Houston, the most ever posted by any Rockets foe.

Then the Rockets lucked into Yao Ming as the No. 1 pick of the draft.

Since then, the teams have met three times. Last season, the remarkable Iverson was held to 19 points in 79 minutes as Houston swept both games. Iverson shot 9-for-42 in those double debacles.

Last night, as Houston won an ugly defensive battle, Iverson, who came into the game as the NBA's No. 1 scorer, was held to 15 points on 4-for-19 shooting.

You could point to all kinds of answers, and it seemed everyone did. Iverson was bothered by a banged-up knee that limited his freedom. Rockets guards Cuttino Mobley and Steve Francis hounded him all night. The whole Houston defense was aware of his presence at every moment, cut off the areas he likes to penetrate, made it difficult for him to run free.

Maybe everyone was trying to throw Sherlock off the scent. You asked new Rockets coach Jeff Van Gundy if the presence of his big man didn't cast a shadow over the court that could intimidate and swallow up even a fearless performer like Iverson and the answer was a smug, "Which big guy? Cato? Yao? I know everyone wants to speak about Yao, but they have to give Cato credit, too."

Kelvin Cato did deserve some props. He grabbed 11 rebounds for a coach whom he said has made that Priority No. 1, blocked a couple of shots, and was part of a potent 1-2 inside defensive force. But he was there in 2001 when Iverson was going off for 58. Sherlock, you still there?

You looked at Yao's line, saw the 5-for-15 shooting that drew the Rocket staff's response to the "How's Yao doing?" questions from a sizable contingent of Asian media that he'd be doing better if he was shooting better, and maybe it was a red-herring answer. Maybe you had to look at the rest of the line, the 14 rebounds in 38 minutes, the four blocks, the 12 points and three assists.

No, that didn't tell the story, either. You have to watch him carefully, see how he intimidates, how he affects the game. How time and again Iverson started a patented move and realized the lane was shut down by a giant wingspan, realized even his normal high-arc shot wouldn't elude the star from China. It may be subtle, the way Yao alters the shot, the way he alters the game, but there's a reason the Rockets' defense is right near the top of the league.

Why shouldn't he be intimidating goes the logical reasoning, why at 7-foot-6, 310 sturdy pounds, shouldn't he cast a shadow over both ends of the court?

That's too pat. If all you had to be was 7-6, Shawn Bradley would be ready for enshrinement in Springfield. A more logical case could be made that it's more remarkable that a guy that size can move with such effortless grace, can always be in the right position, can catch a pass and distribute one even more impressively, can play defense, can maneuver around defenders.

It was intriguing to hear the Rockets pass the credit around for their 7-3 start that leads the Midwest Division to everyone seemingly except Yao.

The lady from the Chinese TV network pushed her questioning of Van Gundy. What did he think of Yao's game, she kept asking.

"I'm not going to judge him every game," he said. "He did fine ... we won. All's well until the next game."

Moving to Houston, getting back to the job he does best, the well-paid calling of coaching he handles with excellence, hasn't taken away the Van Gundy testiness. Nor has his year in the TV booth apparently made him any more media friendly.

You asked if he was happy to be back coaching, if that gnawing in the pit of his stomach that meant he was waiting all day to see how his troops would respond didn't provide a special sense of being alive, a level of expectations few are lucky enough to experience.

"No," he said. "That gnawing is one thing I can do without in my life. I do like the challenge of trying to help move our team forward, although I haven't been able to do it yet."

But what about being back in a high-profile profession in which he has earned such acclaim?

"No," he said, that was no big deal, that, "I feel better that I've done something else. Now I know I can do something else and enjoy it. It's easier for me to go back to coaching knowing that it's not the end-all and be-all.

"I still don't feel better about losing. You hope you can keep things in perspective, but losing never permits that."

So you push when things go bad, and after a win like last night's, you keep talking about "having to play smarter." How the team is showing heart and playing hard, but they have to get more smarts. You talk about almost everything except the 7-foot-6 guy in the middle who makes everything happen.

No talk about Yao? Sherlock Holmes knows how to solve that case. It's like the dog that didn't bark.

http://www.nj.com/columns/times/yavener/index.ssf?/base/columns-0/106914996128111.xml