In 2003, LeBron James entered the league to a tidal wave of hype and anticipation to which he has lived up and exceeded. He has become not only the league’s most dominant player (sorry Kobe, put Bron on a complete team like the Lakers and they may not lose a game), but also the league’s top story line.
King James’ entrance into the league somehow overshadowed what may perhaps go down in history as the single most important #1 overall draft pick in NBA history in 2002, Yao Ming.
Courtesy of cristyli.blogspot.com
Now, looking back on Yao’s eight-year career so far, we can see that in comparison with other number ones, he’s been kind of par for the course. While not a LeBron, Hakeem Olajuwon (who’s been the subject of perhaps the greatest couple of weeks of blog-following in my life), Magic Johnson or Tim Duncan-type player, he’s certainly above the levels of the likes of Ralph Sampson, Brad Daugherty, Michael Olowokandi and Kwame Brown.
In fact, if you’ve been fortunate enough to watch a good chunk of games in Yao Ming’s recent career, you’ll see that he might be the most offensively gifted center since Olajuwon himself. At 7-6 and well over 300 lbs., his body is doomed to break down prematurely. It’s an unmitigated tragedy considering his talent. If he were just three inches shorter, he might have been the next transcendent NBA pivot man.
When was the last time you saw any center, let alone the tallest player in the league, hit 85 percent of his free throws? That’s just what Yao has done in each of the past four years. Considering the constant battering his feet and knees take on a nightly basis, the tightrope that Yao walks just by playing a sport designed for athletes with a full range of mobility is not only impressive, it’s damn near superhuman.
Yao’s career will almost certainly be over next time he lands the wrong way on his left foot, or if someone runs into his knee, or if something below the waist gets twisted the wrong way. There will be no more long recovery period, no more rehab to get back into game shape. His body can’t withstand another major injury.
Yet he’s still one of the hardest working players in the NBA, and plays with a competitive drive that would make Gilbert Arenas blush. Couple him with a transcendent scoring talent, such as, I don’t know, Tracy McGrady circa 2004, and this team seemed certain for destiny.
Destiny, though, had other ideas.
This team was destined to be a tease. At one point during McGrady and Yao’s heyday, they rattled off 22 consecutive wins, the second-longest streak in NBA history, even after losing Yao for the remainder of that season halfway through. At other points, the Rockets were without either superstar, such a deeply frustrating circumstance that any true fan was in agony. The Rockets worked harder defensively than anyone else, led by Shane Battier, who at that time was as good or better than every other perimeter defender. They won games they weren’t supposed to win, and the games they lost were never phoned in, never dull.
What could the team with the indomitable spirit accomplish fully healthy? The answer isn’t clear. It has since been split up: McGrady’s body failed much in the way Yao’s did, and was shipped to the Knicks in the last year of an enormous contract. The Rockets are rebuilding around Yao, preparing for life without him simultaneously, and are forced to reflect on what could have been.
Drafting Aaron Brooks, Patrick Patterson and Chase Budinger help. Trading Trevor Ariza for Courtney Lee will definitely help (Ariza, while talented, never fit in head coach Rick Adelman’s system very well), as will Brad Miller, who will serve as Yao’s first legitimate backup since before Dikembe Mutombo turned 40. The Rockets might have another run at the NBA elite in them, but it will be without the Yao as we know him, the Yao that should have been.
What’s potentially worst of all is that Yao’s off-court legacy will be overshadowed by his inability to get on the court. The world’s largest country is now basketball mad, and players like Kobe are treated better there than they are here. China’s national basketball team now regularly qualifies for the Olympics. Someday in the not so distant future, the NBA may see more Chinese-born players than Italian, Argentinian and Croatian, a notion that would be unheard of in 2001, when the only Chinese players to enter the league were bench warmers at best.
Yao’s on-court legacy could have matched that. He has the talent to be a dominant force. His size makes him almost unguardable within five feet of the basket, and the range on his jumpshot extends to about 18 feet, if not farther. His defense, while never as good as his offense, was still hugely impactful because Yao is huge. The Rockets always gave the top teams of the era – the Spurs, the Mavericks, the Pistons, the Suns – a run for their money because defense wins ballgames, and Yao on offense never hurts.
I must admit that the Rockets, at their peak, might not have made the finals. It’s damn near impossible to achieve that, less so when one of the stars (McGrady) has a reputation for wilting under pressure, whether it’s deserved or not. The tragedy isn’t that they never won, it’s that they never got a fair crack at it. And, as basketball fans, we were all robbed.
This blog was written in the style of Kelly Dwyer, the most knowledgeable NBA blogger/writer on the planet. Here’s a link to one of his pieces. I encourage you all to RSS (if you do those sorts of shenanigans) Ball Don’t Lie, Yahoo! Sports NBA blog, which, for the time being, he is running.
Str8 Ballin' 