Sports Medicine Master System

Chapter 362 - 302: A Frightening Number

Chen Yu recalled how Chinese-Americans of the previous generation, especially his grandfather’s, were exceptionally diligent and resilient.

Having grown up in a rough neighborhood and seen all sorts of people, Chen Yu always felt that the Chinese possessed a quality other groups lacked: a willingness to achieve their goals through sheer hard work.

They didn’t believe in God or handouts, only in their own effort.

In psychological terms, this was an excellent quality: being clearly purpose-driven.

Knowing what you want and being willing to work for it.

And from their casual chat today, Chen Yu felt that Yao Ming clearly possessed this quality.

Thinking back to last year, his conflict with the Eastern Team over joining the NBA had led him to declare he would rather retire on the spot than be held back. That alone was proof enough of how well he knew what he wanted and how determined he was.

After a rough start like this, some people would blame the world, avoid their problems, and gradually spiral downward.

But others, while they might feel frustrated and dejected, wouldn’t let those emotions control them for long. They would turn that frustration into motivation and keep striving.

Yao Ming was clearly the latter.

During their earlier conversation, he hadn’t complained about any of the negative aspects.

He’d performed terribly in two games, and the fans and media were sure to roast him for it. But he had told Chen Yu that when he went to the supermarket, many people recognized him. They wanted to take pictures with him, offered words of encouragement, and cheered him on. He believed that many fans were kind and supportive.

He only focused on the positive side, using it as motivation.

As for his teammates, he never complained about them not passing him the ball or failing to coordinate. Every word out of his mouth was about how he wasn’t good enough, or how he needed a deeper understanding of the tactics.

He adopted a very humble stance, not thinking being the number one draft pick was any big deal. The others were stars, veterans, and more skilled than him. He believed he needed to learn from them.

Chen Yu had rarely, if ever, encountered such humility among NBA players.

Most of those guys in the NBA hadn’t received a good education. They had this ingrained "I’m the baddest man on the planet and I’ll answer to no one" attitude.

If channeled correctly, it could be a positive motivator.

But as soon as they hit a snag, many of them would start complaining and lose their mental equilibrium.

In that respect, Yao Ming was leagues ahead of them.

Most importantly, Yao Ming’s mother had come with him.

When everyone else abandons and mocks you, your mother will still support you. Having family by your side can truly soothe inner turmoil.

So Chen Yu didn’t think Yao Ming would have any psychological problems. He was far more resilient and intelligent than he had imagined.

"Phil, if I were Brian, I think I’d be regretting that trade right about now," Chen Yu remarked with a sigh.

Based on Yao Ming’s character and mindset alone, Chen Yu was confident he would succeed. Combined with his talent, he had the potential to become the best center in the world.

’It’s not that O’Neal isn’t good enough, but Yao Ming might have brought the Phoenix Suns a better future.’

Kupchek looked completely lost. ’Regret? I’m the one who should be regretting it.’

Jackson, however, caught the underlying meaning. He asked, a little uncertainly, "Chen, you think Yao has more potential?"

Chen Yu nodded.

In sports, you need more than just extraordinary talent to reach the top. Character is just as important.

Think about Jordan. To grow taller, he would hang from a doorframe for an hour every single day. With that kind of effort, who else but him could have succeeded?

Jackson laughed heartily. "I think so too."

The car took Chen Yu back to his hotel.

Watching Chen Yu enter the hotel, Kupchek said, still wincing at the cost, "Phil, that trip just cost us at least another two hundred thousand US dollars."

Jackson patted the training manual in his hands. "I think this alone is worth far more than two hundred thousand US dollars."

Kupchek glanced silently at the training manual. ’So what, we actually came out ahead?’

"Let’s go." Jackson closed the car door, his mood suddenly lifted.

Yao Ming’s performance had been terrible for two straight games. Although Jackson rationally knew he had to give Yao Ming time to adapt, he couldn’t help but feel an emotional-driven frustration, fearing Yao might not pan out.

But Chen Yu’s visit had solidified Jackson’s resolve to fully invest in developing Yao Ming.

’Perhaps the cornerstone of the Lakers for the next decade is already here.’

By the time Chen Yu returned to Phoenix, the league’s notice of the fine had already arrived in Los Angeles.

An even two hundred thousand US dollars.

The fine had a significant effect. The psychological reports Chen Yu received the following week were far more detailed, no longer the half-assed kind meant to just get by.

And just one week of five-minute chats revealed a host of problems.

Never mind Ray Allen’s well-known obsessive-compulsive tendencies. The Bucks’ psychologist concluded that his mild OCD was showing signs of worsening, as he was now also exhibiting anxiety.

This was likely related to the Bucks’ consistently poor record and rumors that the team was planning to rebuild.

A person’s environment definitely affects their mindset.

And similar cases of obsessive-compulsive behavior were not uncommon throughout the league.

For example, the psychological profile for Jason Terry of the Hawk described him as also having mild OCD. Before every game, he had to eat chicken wings from a specific local fast-food joint in Atlanta.

If that fast-food place ever went out of business, would he even be able to play?

Then there was Ma Long, who mumbled to himself during free throws. The Jazz’s psychologist believed he also had OCD because he refused to wash his socks, insisting on wearing the same single pair for an entire season.

The psychologist even added a little note in the file, complaining that Ma Long had taken off his shoe on the spot and made him smell it. He wrote that he’d smelled a lifetime’s worth of foot odor in that one moment.

There were many other similar cases.

Biting nails, chewing on straws—things like that were all, to some extent, signs of obsessive-compulsive tendencies.

With these kinds of conditions, it was best to find and resolve the root cause. If that wasn’t possible, it wasn’t a huge issue. The key was to monitor it and have the team accommodate the player as much as possible to prevent it from affecting their performance on the court.

Implementing the five-minute rule was partly about taking care of the players, and partly about maintaining their on-court performance.

Beyond that, the most common issue was anxiety.

Players who couldn’t make the starting lineup, who were demoted from starter to the bench, who couldn’t even get off the bench, who were criticized by the media and fans, who didn’t get along with their teammates, who were disliked and isolated by their teammates—all these situations could trigger symptoms of anxiety.

And where there was anxiety, depression was sure to follow. There were plenty of those cases as well.

Then there were the truly strange ones.

Chen Yu read that the psychologist for the Trail Blazers’ Rashid Wallace suspected he had persecutory delusions.

There was also Ron Artest, who had transferred back to the Pacer last season. He’d had a manic disorder as a child, and the Pacer’s psychologist believed it had never been fully treated. In fact, it seemed to be worsening, with signs of violent tendencies emerging.

This summer, he had brutally beaten his girlfriend just because she didn’t return his call.

Chen Yu did a quick tally. Even at this early stage, based only on preliminary analysis of past news reports and player conversations, a staggering 21 percent of players showed signs of potential psychological issues.

A terrifying number!

When Chen Yu compiled this into a report for Stern, the commissioner was so shocked that he immediately called to ask how to solve the problem.

’How to solve it?’ The five-minute rule was already in place. With psychologists on board, things were bound to get better.

The trip to Los Angeles had made Chen Yu pay closer attention to Yao Ming.

As he was from China, Chen Yu felt a natural affinity for him.

Unfortunately, after two terrible performances, he didn’t hit rock bottom and bounce back.

In his third game, a crosstown rivalry matchup, Yao Ming faced ’98 top draft pick Michael Olowokandi in the paint, making it another battle of number-one picks.

Interestingly, when Michael Olowokandi first decided to enter the NBA, he firmly believed he was the next Olajuwon, even wearing number 34 as a tribute to him.

But when he actually faced the real Olajuwon, he was thoroughly schooled.

In fact, starting last season, everyone from the Clippers’ fans to the management had begun to lose faith in the big man.

In this game, coming off the bench, Yao Ming showed a slight improvement. He went 2-for-6 from the field and, with free throws, scored 5 points while also grabbing 5 rebounds in his limited minutes.

But just as Jackson thought things were looking up, the Lakers played the Trail Blazers. Jackson tried starting Yao Ming, but facing the frontline duo of Rashid Wallace and Dale Davis, his performance once again completely fell apart.

He went 0-for-4, scoring only 2 points from the free-throw line and grabbing a pitiful 3 rebounds. His only eye-popping stat was a whopping 5 turnovers.

And the poor performances didn’t stop there. The next day, the Lakers were on the road against the Cavaliers. Yao Ming started again and, facing Big Z, only managed a miserable 1-for-5 from the field.

He looked completely out of his element, constantly turning the ball over and getting into foul trouble.

In the next road game against the Celtics, Jackson moved him back to the bench, where he scored only 4 points in his limited playing time.

In a back-to-back road game against the Wizards, he faced Jordan, who came in off the bench. The old master showed no mercy, driving hard to the basket and finishing with a poster dunk right over Yao Ming’s head.

After landing, his penchant for trash-talking was on full display. He spread his hands wide and shook his head, as if to say, ’This is the number-one pick?’

The television cameras cut to Jackson on the sideline, who just shook his head, a look of helplessness on his face.

In the broadcast booth, Barkley was just as blunt. He called out Jackson on air, telling him to give up his fantasies. He said the big man from China was no good, a complete and utter bust. The Lakers trading O’Neal for him was insane; they got fleeced.

Chen Yu was watching the game from home.

On the soft sofa, Lexi, dressed in light clothing, was curled up in Chen Yu’s arms. "Barkley has such a foul mouth," she couldn’t help but say. "That was so nasty."

Chen Yu sighed softly. ’Can’t be helped. The guy’s always had a big mouth. Now that he’s a TV host where entertainment is king, he has to lean into the sharp-tongued persona to stay relevant.’

Chen Yu even felt that Barkley was, in a way, sticking up for O’Neal.

"It’s fine. It’s only been a few games. You have to give him time to adapt. I believe he’ll pan out." Despite the consistently terrible performances, Chen Yu still believed Yao Ming had what it took to prove himself.

Lexi asked, a little curious, "Chen, I know he’s from China, but aren’t you a little too concerned about him? Don’t forget, you’re the Phoenix Suns’ team doctor. I never see you watching their games."

’What’s there to worry about with the Suns?’ Chen Yu thought.

’They’re undefeated in five games and first in the West. They don’t need me to worry about them.’

Just then, on the television, after roasting Yao a bit more, Barkley suddenly turned to Kenny Smith. "Kenny, stop making excuses for him. All those reasons you’re giving are bullshit. I’ll tell you what. If this kid can score more than 20 points in his next game... no, not 20, 19 points. If he can score more than 19 points, I will... kiss your ass."

Chen Yu, who was reaching for a can of beer, froze and frowned.

’This is a live national broadcast,’ he thought. ’For Barkley to say something like that... that’s going too far!’