Something strange has happened to me during the past few months.
For the first time in I don’t know how long, I can actually sit and watch an entire broadcast of an NBA game. While I still have a hard time stomaching Bill Walton’s off-the-wall comments or perpetual reminder that he is the father of Luke Walton, I have found myself slowly coming back to the game I used to hate so much.
I know hate is a strong word, but that was my true feeling for the David Stern-led NBA. Maybe it has to do with how my beloved Chicago Bulls have cemented themselves as the second worst-run franchise in all of sports. (Admit it — no matter what the Bulls do, they will never be as bad as the Cincinnati Bengals.)
Or maybe my deep-seated animosity was rooted in the realization I was never any good at basketball. Other than that fleeting moment in 6th grade where I nailed a running one-hander from the top of the key as time ran out, I never dreamed about being the next John Stockton or John Paxson. Instead, I always thought I could be the next Jack Haley. You know, the “player” who won a ring with the Bulls because his sole responsibility — albeit a failure — was keeping Dennis Rodman’s emotions under control.
That has all changed. I have seen the light and am slowly returning to the world of professional basketball. And I have one man to thank — Yao Ming.
That’s right. I am proud to admit I have fully converted to Yaoism; I am a loyal subject in the Ming Dynasty. I could keep going, but I think you get the picture.
I’ll admit, I was one of the thousands of haters who thought the 22-year-old Yao, the No. 1 pick by the Houston Rockets this season, would struggle not only in his first year, but also his entire career. I might not have gone as far as TNT commentator Charles Barkley, who stated he would kiss fellow announcer Kenny Smith’s backside if Yao ever scored more than 19 points in a game, but I still thought the 7-foot-5-inch Chinese import would never live up to his No. 1 status.
But just eight games later, I was eating crow and Chuckie was kissing a donkey called Kenny after Yao exploded for 20 points on 9-for-9 shooting against the defending champion Los Angeles Lakers.
Since then, Yao has taken the world by storm. He scored a career-high 30 points against the Dallas Mavericks just more than a month ago and is bringing the Rockets into playoff contention. Along with franchise guard Steve Francis, Yao is actually invoking memories of the Rockets’ two-year run as champions with Hakeem Olajuwon and Clyde Drexler.
It isn’t that Yao is succeeding which has made me a full convert to Yaoism and its peaceful ways.
In fact, my full conversion did not take place until last night, when the world learned, thanks in large part to Internet voting from China and fellow Yaoists, Yao will be the Western Conference’s starting center for the upcoming NBA All-Star Game in Atlanta.
With Yao in the starting lineup, I won’t have to look at the 300-plus-pound mass known as Shaquille O’Neal on my television screen during the first quarter, which is about all I’ll watch of the game itself.
Who cares if Yao does not score and has only one blocked shot? For me, my sole joy will come from seeing O’Neal sitting on the bench, relegated to being a simple reserve in a league he once dominated. Poor, poor Shaq.
But whether or not the West actually win the game, I know for that opening 12 minutes, I will be a peaceful state of Yao.
Matt Duval is a junior in journalism and The Lantern sports editor and can be reached at [email protected]. He even thinks Yao is a great actor after watching his Apple commercial with Mini Me. He also is interested in seeing how Tim McGraw fares alongside Nelly in the celebrity game.
