The Tao of Yao: a 7'5" Chinese basketball pioneer is doing the impossible: changing the face of the sport - Yao Ming of the Houston Rockets

Basketball Digest, May, 2003 by Marshall Rodgers

AN NBA LOTTERY pick is thrown to the wolves. He's drafted onto a pathetic dub in nearly every case. He inks a multimillion-dollar contract and a la carte promotional opportunities before his first jump ball--upping expectations from fans and building resentment from veteran players.

A rookie moves from amateur or overseas competition onto the fastest track in professional sports--and it's not that there are only 348 active spots in the NBA as much as those 348 players play basketball at a speed and intricacy and skill level unlike anything a rookie has ever seen.

Let's say you're one of the growing legions of international players in the NBA workforce. The U.S. presents a firestorm of language and cultural barriers that are even more difficult than the challenges you experience on the basketball floor.

Your new team? The Houston Rockets, a franchise that's boasted Elvin Hayes, Moses Malone, Ralph Sampson, and Hakeem Olajuwon, legendary big men all. Your new home? Houston, in Texas, a state that makes even an Oklahoman feel like a visitor from another planet--and you're from Shanghai.

See, you're not one of the dozens of Eastern European players in the league. You're not even an African or Canadian seasoned into the U.S. through four years of college. You're from China. There is virtually no precedent for you in the NBA.

Your owner, Les Alexander, calls you the biggest news story of all time and the team "one of the greatest ever assembled." Your hype--the backhanded "a Shawn Bradley with touch," to the more fair "a Sampson with elbows," all the way up to the giddy "unstoppable force destined to take over the league in the near future"--has rankled veteran players. None as much as the player, Shaquille O'Neal, who spent the offseason taunting you. Mocking your very manhood and heritage. Calling you out in a language you don't yet fully understand.

The buildup to your first match vs. Shaq is billed sloppily as "the kings" (the Los Angeles Lakers) vs. "the emperor" (you, duh) by a drooling ESPN. O'Neal's ugliest taunts and barbs--from some clumsy "kung-fu" moves to claiming you have "called him out" in Chinese and "American"--are met with a collective yawn by the basketball media. The NBA's most prominent mouthpiece says to reporters, "Tell Yao Ming, `Chingchong-yang-wah-ah-soh.'" Shaq says you're officially fair game--and hitting below the belt is allowed.

Welcome to the NBA, Yao Ming. Nothing could have possibly you for this.

YAO BOWED FIRST

How Yao diffused O'Neal's taunts is perhaps the single greatest indicator of his future success in the game--and in today's "street" NBA, how different and refreshing a factor he promises to be. After hearing Diesel's mockery of an Asian accent, Yao told reporters that Chinese in fact was difficult to learn he struggled to master it himself.

Given the growing controversy, O'Neal backpedaled fast. When the two met on the floor at the height of tensions January 17, he told Yao, "I love you. We are brothers." In the game, Yao's Rockets prevailed--and the young center set the game off to an electrifying start, scoring baskets on Houston's first three possessions and blocking O'Neal's first three field goal attempts to boot.

Yao bowed first, but it was mighty Shaq who was humbled. That's sudden impact.

CULTURE SHOCK

Yao has forced U.S. culture to do a turn-about on the fly. There are times its response has been embarrassingly sluggish. But the NBA is nothing if not marketing-savvy--it has caught up quickly.

As a cultural phenomenon and pioneer, Yao is guarded. He is most at peace on the basketball court, where he can concentrate on the game, not about representing Chinese in the U.S. and China.

"I try not to think like that," Yao says. "It's a lot of pressure. I just want to be an athlete. But [the pressure] is something that can't be avoided."

An estimated 1,500 Asian fans attended the Rockets' home opener on November 2, nearly 10% of capacity of Houston's Compaq Center. By contrast, the entire Asian population in Houston's Harris County is 5.1%.

Yao--nicknamed "the Golden Bridge" in China--has already managed to build an Asian fan base new to the NBA. But few people close to Yao are surprised by that.

Houston coach Rudy Tomjanovich is one of those who recognizes how special his center is. "It's been amazing the way he's handled it all. There's something about his personality that brings people together. He's very warm. People love him. I feel very comfortable around him. He looks like a man who loves life and loves people, the differences in people."

Early on, it was evident that the NBA did not know how to promote him. The Miami Heat "honored" Yao in December by passing out 8,000 fortune cookies to fans. And several teams considered "Great Wall"-type packages spotlighting games hosting Yao and his two countrymen, Mengke Bateer of the Dallas Mavericks and the Los Angeles Clippers' Wang Zhizhi.

But before the needle was dropped on "Kung Fu Fighting" and the P.A. banged a gong, the NBA caught up. Host teams now are trying to draw more Asian fans by offering special foods at concession stands (at a Rockets game, for example, you can enjoy a foot-long egg roll while sipping a Chinese beer), and others are spotlighting martial arts and dance exhibitions before the game and at halftime. Often, P.A. announcements are made in both English and Mandarin.