Never once back then did I pause to contemplate the possibility that his days – as they are for every athlete, however great they may be – in a Rockets uniform would be numbered.
There was something else that held me back, however something I’m not particularly proud to admit: I took Yao for granted. Truth be told, I was probably too lazy to assume such a massive undertaking, and I was without question far more interested in picking his brain about basketball and other assorted trivialities like his Transformers obsession (I’ll never forget the smile on his face when he regaled me with the tale of the time he bartered his way to a bargain basement price for a 3-foot tall Optimus Prime figurine). I never did take Yao up on his offer of occasional language lessons. That sort of sums him up, though, doesn’t it? A hardworking, humble and honorable man who somehow managed to stay down to earth despite rising so high above it. Leave it to Yao to represent his country in the most dignified way possible while simultaneously reminding us about the best of our own. How could you? He is, after all, the very embodiment of the American dream a man from half a world away, arriving in this country to be tested against the very best, daring to dream, daring to fight, eventually rising to the top himself while overcoming a whole host of obstacles along the way. No one who watched him play or covered his career will ever forget Yao Ming. Because the truth of the matter is that, regardless of whether or not Yao is Hall of Fame bound, his legacy is already etched in stone. And quite frankly it’s probably irrelevant anyway. That, however, is a question for another time. Throw in Yao’s role as one of the greatest global ambassadors the game has ever seen, and it should become quite clear why his place in Springfield seems both certain and deserved. Playoff perfection in Game 1 against Portland. Career averages of 19 points and 9 rebounds per game. Hall of Famer? An awful lot of very smart, rational-thinking basketball people say yes. For Yao, however, it was just one more duty to be carried out with patience and aplomb. Yao’s sense of humor is so sharp, in fact, I find myself wondering what those of us who covered him on a daily basis will miss more now that he’s announced his intention to retire: watching him efficiently carve up opposing defenses or talking to him about it after the game? Such was his gift yet another talent that also doubled as a burden because it so frequently meant interminably long media sessions with both the English and Chinese-speaking press corps. This was a one of a kind person and athlete from a foreign land, capable of playing like an MVP candidate one minute and subtly slaying the media mob gathered around him the next. Fans, media, Charles Barkley – we all learned the truth eventually. How on earth did he do it? How did this living, breathing, real life Paul Bunyan shoulder the weight of everything – expectations and obligations that made even his 7-6 frame look small in comparison – while maintaining such patience, poise, humility, and a mind-boggling willingness to always attempt to do even more? I mention this not as a point of personal pride, but rather an expression of pure incredulity about the essence of Yao Ming. Some nondescript writer is suddenly smitten with a passing fancy to pick up Mandarin and could use a little help along the way? Sure, why not? Let me check my schedule: I’m dunking on someone’s head tonight, but maybe I can offer assistance in between carrying my country’s flag at the Olympics and funding aid for earthquake victims. You know, because he didn’t quite have enough on his plate at the time, what with being one of the most recognizable figures in the world, a national treasure, an aspiring humanitarian and, oh yeah, the best center in basketball. HOUSTON - Yao Ming once offered to help me learn Chinese. With all he's done for the game both on and off the court, Yao Ming deserves to walk into retirement with his head held high.
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