Recent Philippine visitor Yao Ming received bad reviews for his behavior while watching over his Shanghai Sharks. The STAR and other dailies reported how he was curt, unresponsive and aloof to the fans, and unobliging to the media. He even waved off television op interviews, spoke Mandarin though he has not needed an English-speaking interpreter for years, and left ahead of the team. In short, he proved to be similar to quite a few other American pro basketball players.
Ironically, all previous knowledge of Yao, particularly documentaries of him, showed him to be shy, tentative and curious like a child. In “The Year of the Yaoâ€, he is shown through the overwhelming growth process he underwent, and the pressures he would face, pressures which nobody could possibly understand. He faced obstacles and hurdles nobody probably will ever face. So much rode on his success in the US. Almost half the world’s population looked up to him as the holder of the key to their acceptance in the American marketplace. He was supposedly ambassador of the city of Shanghai.
But if you look closer, there may be a more deeply-rooted reason for his behavior. In some ways, Yao was like the Jackie Robinson of his country, in that he broke down barriers for other Asian athletes. In another sense, he was like Muhammad Ali, who stood for his right to make a living through professional sports, no matter what anyone else said. You could also argue that Yao was the trailblazer who stood at the crossroads of China’s growth, and decided to take the leap to the unknown West.
Imagine your life almost being entirely engineered for you; your parents are obedient servants of the government who are almost led to marrying each other. You are discovered at a very young age and “adopted†by your city. You are plucked out of your life and made to study sports, you ride your bicycle home. When your potential is discovered, a petition is taken up beseeching the government to exempt your family from the “one child†policy. Only one signature is required. It is never signed. So you grow up wishing you had a baby brother or sister.
Your entire life, you are groomed for one thing: to play basketball for your country, and carry the flag. But your talents are beyond China alone. You are a talent for the world. But, as in most of your life, there are powers beyond your imagination, politics beyond your awareness. You live in a nation that can commoditize people, like so much cattle.
Yao grew up being told what to do. He wanted to experience being in the NBA, but it came at a price. He would be conditionally released, if he promised to play for China in the Asian Games and Olympic Games. As if he wouldn’t be tired enough. He had to learn how to play American-style basketball. He didn’t speak the language, or even like the culture. It was all alien to him. But he wanted to give it a shot.
Even in the NBA, the Chinese government kept an eye on him, like a concerned horse owner. If he strayed from any of his promises, he never heard the end of it. Their influence intruded even into his personal life. Imagine also, if you will, being on the front page of magazines and newspapers the world over, saying you represented the hopes and dreams of over a billion people. Imagine if, when you played, 20 million of your countrymen would watch it on television. Difficult, as best.
When he moved to Houston, he couldn’t drive a car (he usually rode a bicycle in China.). He didn’t even know the way home from the parking lot. He has to find a home first. He couldn’t imagine living without his mother’s cooking. There were no Chinese restaurants up to his standards, rather, hers.
At work, it was all uphill. He needed to get onto NBA shape. His teammates sometimes did to him what was done to their predecessors. His opponents were all more than eager to measure themselves against him, like he had a target painted on his back.
Given all that he has been through, the extraordinary demands that partially led to a career-ending injury, I feel for Yao Ming. I definitely do not agree with what he did, but I see how hard it was for him to first understand, then desire, then acquire, his freedom to do whatever he wanted. And that’s what the world still hasn’t understood after all this time.