Sorry if it might have posted before. Yao Ming - China's Incredible Hulk of the hardcourt becomes an NBA sensation Other heroes here: TIMEasia.com: Asian Heroes 2003
Yao Ming China's Incredible Hulk of the hardcourt becomes an NBA sensation By Hannah Beech There are 1.3 billion of them, but Westerners don't really know much about the citizens of the Middle Kingdom. For decades, China has existed in the international eye as either a megalomaniacal dictator (Chairman Mao) or a teeming mass of low-paid factory workers (everybody else). Maybe there's a hyperkinetic kung fu star or a nerdy computer whiz to round out the stereotype. But mostly, the Chinese have lived in Western minds as inscrutable, unknowable, incalculable. Now comes Yao Ming—and all the ill-conceived clichés about those strange Chinese have been shattered like a glass backboard after a monstrous slam dunk. There is no living Chinese in the world today who is as famous as the lantern-jawed National Basketball Association rookie sensation. Striding in at a lanky 2.26 meters—who knew a Chinese could grow so tall?—Yao has single-handedly transformed his countrymen from nameless, faceless millions into mighty men who can jam with the very best. For Americans, Yao's affable demeanor and witty repartee are a welcome antidote to the antics of the NBA's bad boys. And for the Chinese, who are chronically obsessed with their overseas reputation, Yao's maturation from a meek athletic machine to a charismatic basketball personality is nothing less than proof that China finally measures up. Ratings for NBA games broadcast on Chinese TV have never been higher than this year as the nation keeps track of its new favorite team, Yao's Houston Rockets. Once worried that Yao would flub his NBA debut, local newspapers kept coverage of him to a minimum in the beginning of the season lest fans be disappointed; but now Chinese are delighted that their guy has established himself so dominantly. "I am proud that Yao is very talented and can show his skills in the NBA," says Gu Limin, a 24-year-old Shanghai shipping agent and avowed hoops fan. "And I am even more proud that Yao is showing that we Chinese are good, polite people." The boy who would one day become the future of the NBA was raised in Shanghai, his burgeoning height paralleling the steroidal growth of his city. Yao's parents, both basketball players themselves, lived with their only son in a cramped apartment with doorways so low they had to stoop to enter their home. In the evenings, Yao's mother scavenged extra food from about-to-close stalls to feed her growing child; the ration coupons given to each family were nowhere near enough to feed a boy who was 1.7 meters tall by age nine. Yao himself didn't harbor any hoop dreams as a child. A shy boy, he was often picked on in schoolyards, never realizing that one swat of his oversized hands could knock down his tormentors. Not particularly drawn to athletics, he retreated into books, poring over military histories and reliving ancient battles in his head. But when Yao was nine years old, the country's sports officials came calling. A boy this large, they said, didn't just belong to his little family. He belonged to China. So began Yao's basketball career. Sent to one of the thousands of sports schools that make up China's mammoth state-sponsored athletic system, he was forced to endlessly shoot and dribble—even when the unheated court was so chilly that the ball lost its bounce. As a teenager, he was essentially sold to the Shanghai Sharks, the Chinese Basketball Association team in his hometown. By the age of just 21, the two-time league MVP had transformed a middling squad into winners, astounding fans last year during the championship finals when he made every single one of the 21 shots he took—the first such feat in recent memory anywhere in the world. Yao dominated Chinese basketball so completely that it was clear he needed more than the underwhelming competition his compatriots offered. After three years of having wrangled with both his team and risk-averse sports czars in Beijing, Yao was finally given a shot at NBA stardom last summer. Drafted as the No. 1 pick by the Rockets, Yao has—in only one season—buoyed a sport that was suffering from tepid TV ratings and thuggish players known more for their rap sheets than their stat sheets. The combination of his feathery touch and sheer height—he is the second-tallest player in the league—is so unusual that teams have had to change their defensive strategies to accommodate him. No surprise, then, that the rookie was voted onto the All-Star team as a starting center in February. He finished the season averaging 13.5 points and 8.2 rebounds per game—not eye-popping numbers, but not bad for a first-year center. Off the court, Yao is adjusting quickly to life in America, although a teammate's suggestion that they hit the strip bars proved too much for a sheltered boy who has lived his whole life either in a dormitory or with his parents. When he first arrived in Houston, Yao was delighted to find Rochester's Big & Tall clothing stores, only to have his hopes dashed when he found that he was still too big and tall for their off-the-rack attire. Food and shelter are less of a problem. This is the land of steaks so sizeable they hang off plates, and Yao is happily chowing down on Texas beef, along with the Shanghainese dumplings his mother cooks for him in their massive kitchen in one of Houston's most exclusive gated communities. As Yao, now 22, revels in his independence—well, as much as you can when you're still living with your mom—his countrymen, too, are cheering his newfound freedom. True, Yao still has to funnel a substantial chunk of his salary and endorsements back to voracious sports officials back home. But the boy who used to seem like a quiet sports drone is developing a personality—something markedly lacking in most other cloistered Chinese athletes. He jokes with American reporters and NBA buddies, even exchanging fire with the greatest center of all, Shaquille O'Neal. The Los Angeles Laker superstar—evidently miffed by the attention lavished on the less accomplished rookie—began the exchange by mocking the Chinese language on a TV talk show: "Tell Yao Ming, 'Ching-chong-yang-wah-ah-so.'" But he proved no match for Yao's low-key wit when the Houston Rocket responded that Chinese is, indeed, a difficult language and that he himself had trouble learning it as a youngster. (He's now picking up English at a pretty rapid clip.) "Yao is giving a face to the Chinese people," says Cheong Sau Ching, an NBA representative based in Hong Kong. "And, guess what? He's a nice, funny, smart guy." Perhaps the most remarkable thing about China's tallest ambassador is that he is possibly even more popular in the U.S. than he is at home. Americans find the well-mannered player a refreshing change from U.S. athletes and their spoiled, sociopathic escapades. Across North America, Yao's clean-cut, tattooless visage sells everything from Visa cards and Apple computers (for which he has taped commercials with actor Verne Troyer, who plays Mini Me in the Austin Powers movies). Doubtless, marketers see Yao as their entry into the prized Chinese market, but who knew that an oversized hoopster with fragmented English would become the next It Boy for Madison Avenue? Kobe Bryant might sell Adidas sneakers, but Yao's appeal transcends simple sports. Could anyone imagine O'Neal or Bryant, for example, selling products as diverse as computers and credit cards? For that matter, could anyone a year ago have imagined a mainland Chinese hawking best-selling products on American TV? The Ming dynasty has begun.
Hopefully Van Gundy find Griffin's problem after half of a tape. Dude, stop parking on the parimeter 99.9% of the time!
We are probably the only team in the NBA where our center is going up for a shot in the lane and our accompanying PF is standing 24 feet away at the top of the key behind the 3pt line. What the hell!? Just moving Griffin more inside for putback rebounds or cutting for dish offs would improve our offense greatly and improve Eddie.
JVG, take a good look at that picture! take a good look to that guy wearin #33 on the top of the key staring and waiting for a ball to hit his head. take a look closely to our PF.. PF?! wait a minute, did i just say POWER FORWARD??? where's the POWER in that? he aint even moving FORWARD....
maybe EG watched the film of game 6 of the lakers vs. kings last year where horry is camped out behind the line and then divac taps it out and horry shoots the game winner.
Good article overall except one thing in the article. The food ration in Shanghai is long gone when Yao is nine, (1989). Even prior to the abondon of the food ration (1988), the supplies were abandunt that no one, at least in the city, has problem with that. Food ration was just a merger symbol of socialism and the tickets had very limited value.
