Illustration: Liu Rui
The best sports stories are not really about sports. They are about human endeavor, overcoming obstacles and smashing stereotypes. The most glorious moments in sports can change a nation's history, as Jackie Robinson did when he broke the color barrier by becoming the first black player in Major League baseball back in 1947.
The Jeremy Lin phenomenon is such a moment. In just 10 days, the first Chinese-American basketball player in NBA history has come out of nowhere to become the toast of two continents. Rejected by two other teams and picked up as a fluke by the New York Knicks, Lin came off the bench to score the highest number of game points of any Knicks player this season, including 38 points to outscore superstar Kobe Bryant and beat the supreme LA Lakers.
On Valentine's Day, the Lin love-fest traveled to Toronto, where a delirious crowd of Chinese cheered his amazing three-point shot to beat the Raptors in the final second, extending the Knicks's winning streak to six games,
New York City is a basketball town, which has suffered 12 years of frustration since the Knicks last played a championship game. The sudden emergence of a Chinese-American savior has sent the city, the country and now the entire world into spasms of disbelief over Jeremy's "Lin-derella" story.
His photos take up entire pages of the local tabloids. The crowds at Madison Square Garden go berserk with cheers of "MVP" (Most Valuable Player) as soon as he steps on the court. They hold up signs like "Lin-sanity" and "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Lin!" In China, CCTV has rearranged its schedule to show more Knicks game. China now has a new hero to follow in the footsteps of Yao Ming.
Not since Yao burst on the scene 10 years ago has an NBA player given such a boost to Asian-American pride. But Yao is a seven-foot-six-inch giant. His height was his weapon. Lin is the shortest man on the court. Actually, he is six-foot-three, a dribbling David versus the seven-foot Goliaths of the NBA. Off the court, his strength of character has captured the imagination of Americans who traditionally root for the underdog.
Lin admits he endured ethnic slurs growing up on the playground basketball courts of his hometown, Palo Alto, California. In one game, an opponent called him a "chink."
All Asian-Americans can relate to that insult in their own lives. But Lin's personal narrative defies every Asian stereotype in the US, especially the one that says, "They are smart but not well-rounded."
Lin is a Harvard grad, an economics major with a 3.1 GPA. He is the son of Taiwanese immigrants who grew up as a scrawny kid shooting hoops with his dad, Lin Gie-ming, at the local Young Men's Christian Association. Ignored by college recruiters out of high school, offered no athletic scholarship and undrafted by the NBA, he was a fourth-string backup player, sitting on the end of the bench when two other players got injured and the Knicks coach decided to put him in the game to "take a look."
Twenty five points later, the roar of the crowd raised the roof of Madison Square Garden.
Almost everything about this 23-year-old rookie endears him to New Yorkers. He's sleeping on the couch at his brother's apartment. That won't be for long, now that the "Jeremy Lin Brand" of sports gear will be worth millions.
Lin is a devout Christian. But I think his success has more to do with Confucian rather than Christian values. Jeremy says his Lin "needs some improvement," but he certainly understands the Chinese virtue of ziwo piping or self-criticism.
In post-game interviews, reporters want him to talk about his best plays. Instead, he talks only about the mistakes he made. He is modest, always praising his teammates rather than boasting of his own spectacular drives to the hoop.
Lin says he is aware that he embodies the hopes and aspirations of millions of Chinese around the world, and admits he must cope with that extra pressure in every game. But until his team eventually loses a game and the champagne corks stop popping, every game is a joyride in the mystical legend of Lin.
The author is an Emmy Award-winning TV news correspondent. opinion@globaltimes.com.cn