by Jim Yardley
Little Sun, left, the Taiwanese point guard of the Brave Dragons, spoke English and sometimes helped out, as here when Zhang Beihai, the general manager, talked with Weiss.
Garrison Guo, a fluent English speaker, became the team’s second interpreter to help with the growing number of foreigners.
Olumide Oyedeji, the team’s star center (from Nigeria via the NBA and a host of other international teams), became one of the team’s most beloved players for the way he embraced Chinese fans. During a promotional event held at a local elementary school, Olumide showed that he was still a kid.
Zhang Beihai, the general manager, spent the season putting out the fires set by Boss Wang.
Joy, or Ji Le, was the team’s most indispensable Chinese player, and had hoped that playing for the Brave Dragons would help him become an all-star.
The Brave Dragons cheerleaders
The team mascot
The Brave Dragons bow to the crowd.
When Boss Wang decided the team needed some tough Chinese discipline, the coaching clipboard was handed—temporarily—to Liu Tie, left, here with Garrison Guo and Weiss during a game.
Whoever was called coach at any given moment, the foreign players kept listening to Weiss. Here, Donta Smith (second from the left), Olumide (next to Weiss), and Weiss joke during the final minutes of a victory. To the right of Weiss are Big Sun, power forward, and Zhai Jinshuai, wing player.
Liu Tie ordered the players, as part of their conditioning, to carry one another up a winding staircase that led up a mountain to an ancient temple.
David Stern, commissioner of the NBA, shakes hands with Jin Zhiguo, the chairman of Tsingtao, after the two men signed a corporate branding partnership in 2008.
Ruslan Rafaelovich Gilyazutdinov, “Big Rus,” the Kazakh center, who first signed with the Brave Dragons when he was working in a bar, did not live up to expectations. Here he sits with Rick Turner (right), Weiss’s American assistant.
Bob Weiss’s wife, Tracy, had spent most of her life nurturing a menagerie of animals in the United States, whether dogs, cats, ferrets, or rats. In China, she helped two players secretly adopt puppies. They named them Prince and Princess.
Located on a busy downtown Taiyuan sidewalk, Bob Weiss’s favorite manhole, which remained uncovered for weeks
The brain trust. Left to right on the bench: Bob Weiss, Garrison Guo, in and out coach Liu Tie, Boss Wang, and Wingtips, a Chinese assistant.
Bob Weiss with his driver and the foreigners’ van
Taiyuan on a rare clear day
Forward Big Sun in the team’s weight room. It consisted of a few bench presses and barbells on the sideline of one of the practice courts.
Bonzi Wells’s midseason arrival with the Brave Dragons became the sensation of the Chinese Basketball Association. Once ignored, the Brave Dragons became the focus of a media frenzy, as Chinese reporters descended on Taiyuan to chronicle the successes and travails of the onetime NBA star.
Pan Jiang, the Brave Dragons point guard
Ren Hongbing, or Red Soldier, the team’s deejay
Zhang Xuewen, or Kobe, was the athletic power forward who became the subject of a battle of wills between Boss Wang and Bonzi. To his right is Duan Jiangpeng, the guard who by season’s end was considered one of the best young prospects in the league.
Bob Weiss literally warming up in the Hawaii Room, the only heated room in the team’s arena
The Taiyuan crazies. Few teams, if any, had such a rowdy fan base.
The three-story YMCA building in Tianjin is the birthplace of basketball in China. Built nearly a century ago, the building is now a preschool.
This room was once the first indoor court in China. Note the elevated running track built into every YMCA.
Part field general, part Vegas lounge singer, a game commissioner (in the white suit) is the arbiter of games in the Chinese league.
Hoppy, the Don King of Chinese squirrels, who was saved from the cook pot by Tracy Weiss
American import Tim Pickett on the floor after getting injured in the critical game against Shandong.
When Brave Dragons fans started pelting the floor with lighters and other debris—wondering if the critical game against the Liaoning Pan Pan Dinosaurs was on the up-and-up—ball boys and ball girls tried to clean up the debris, even as the refs wanted to get the game over with.
The Brave Dragons rejoice in the dying seconds of the season finale. Tenth place never felt so good.
Bob Weiss, heading home to Seattle after the season
Bode the dog, formerly of China, currently residing in Seattle, Washington
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I can’t recall precisely when Jon Kaufman suggested I write a book about Chinese basketball, or why I took the idea seriously. I’m not certain Jon ever did. Jon was the bureau chief in Beijing for The Wall Street Journal, who, while discussing book ideas with me one day, tossed out an unexpected one. “Why not basketball?” he asked. Jon soon returned to the United States but his idea stayed with me. When he later visited Beijing, I excitedly told him I had followed his advice. He paused for a moment, obviously having forgotten what advice I was thanking him for. And then he brightened and congratulated me, if also offering condolences, since I was far from done. So I begin the many thanks I owe many people by thanking Jon, a generous soul, who was there at the beginning, whether he remembers it or not.
I’m still astonished at how that conversation led to this book and am so grateful to the many, many people who helped me along the way. My agent, Amanda Urban, thought me neither deluded nor deranged when I arrived at her apartment in New York in the fall of 2008 and presented her with a 5,000-word proposal that I had started drafting during the flight from Beijing. She has been an unflagging advocate, and I’m immeasurably grateful. The folks at Knopf embraced my quirky idea and helped shape it with meticulous care. Jonathan Segal believed in this book and his careful editing saved me from myself more times than I care to admit; I couldn’t have asked for better. Thanks also to Joey McGarvey.
I’m especially grateful to The New York Times, where I’ve worked for more than fourteen years and which continues to set the standard for the highest quality of journalism. Bill Keller gave me a leave to work on this book and then didn’t fire me once I returned to my day job as a foreign correspondent while still juggling the final writing on the book. Susan Chira was a friend, advocate, supporter, and keenly incisive reader, as well as a terrific boss. In the Times’ China bureaus, I learned invaluable insights from my friend and now boss, Joe Kahn. Chris Buckley was a terrific tutor on China and great fun to hit the road with. David Barboza, as good a friend as anyone could ask for, gave me wise, gentle advice after reading an early draft. Jake Hooker was a terrific traveling companion and sounding board.
I never could have covered China, or have come close to understanding it, without the help of my Chinese colleagues, especially Zhang Jing, Huang Yuanxi, Michael Zhao, Michael Anti, Zhao Yan, Chen Yang, and Du Bin. I also want to thank Keith Bradsher in Hong Kong, as well as Michael Wines and Sharon LaFraniere, who followed me in Beijing and fielded occasional requests for help after I had relocated to India. In India, I’m grateful for the goodwill and forebearance of Hari Kumar, Lydia Polgreen, Vikas Bajaj, Heather Timmons, and PJ Anthony. I’d also like to thank the staff of the Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Museum & Library in New Delhi, where I spent many long weekends finishing the manuscript.
I began writing this book in China and initially lacked an office. Thanks to Lisa Minder-Wu and Wu Er Tao for providing me a perfect one on the outskirts of Beijing—a room attached to a greenhouse behind their restaurant, The Orchard. I lived in Beijing for six years and could not have undertaken this project without the support, advice, and encouragement of many friends and fellow journalists. Thanks to John Scales and Vivian Nazari; Tony Lee; Wang Tao and Louis Kuijs; Nicole and Malcolm Pruys; Charles Hutzler and Jen Schwerin; Mark Magnier and Karen Ma; Mimi Kuo-Deemer and Aaron Deemer; Phil Pan and
Sarah Schafer; and Ching Ching Ni. Nathan and Kristi Belete were our adopted family in China (and India) and I owe them more than I can ever repay. Rebecca Blumenstein and Alan Paul were enthusiastic cheerleaders and great friends. Matt and Ellen Carberry are forces of nature. And I especially want to thank Stuart Schonberger and Carmen Dicinque for their friendship and support. Stuart, a China hand of nearly three decades, was a wise reader whose enthusiasm and skepticism helped me a great deal.
I also benefitted from the generosity of several China scholars and experts. David Shambaugh of George Washington University played college basketball in Beijing; his enthusiasm was contagious and his shrewd comments on the manuscript were invaluable. Susan Brownell, a leading Western expert on Chinese sports, also gave me great advice and saved me from a few dumb errors. Zhao Xiaoyang at the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences helped me understand the role of the YMCA in China. Zhu Ying offered smart advice on CCTV. Wenfang Wang’s research on the teaching of English in China was useful. Anne-Marie Brady was an enormous help in explaining Mao’s early policies toward foreigners.
Jeanne Moore, a repository of China knowledge and a Times editor, gave me great advice and encouragement. Jing Jun, a fellow basketball nut as well as a leading scholar, made insightful comments on the draft. Michael Meyer, author of The Last Days of Old Beijing, offered sparkling advice and probably could have written this book better than I did. Michael Shapiro, McKay Jenkins, and Harvey Araton also were generous with their comments and time. Brook Larmer, author of Operation Yao Ming, represents the gold standard for Westerners writing about Chinese hoops; I drew upon his book for my chapter on Shanghai. Judy Polumbaum, a China scholar, also shared her terrific work with me on Chinese sports. And I also drew upon the work of Andrew D. Morris, author of Marrow of the Nation: A History of Sport and Physical Culture in Republican China. Arthur Kroeber helped me understand the Chinese steel industry. Sidney Rittenberg tutored me on Mao’s use of foreign experts.
Special thanks also go to Joseph Torigian, Owen Fletcher, and Liz Peng for their great work translating the Chinese sports. Tyler Duffy was a big help on background research about Bonzi Wells. Thanks to Steven Shukow for drafting the book’s China map.
Writing about Chinese basketball for me meant immersion in an altogether new and different ecosystem in China. It was more fun than I ever could have imagined. I benefitted from the insights of many helpful people, including Xu Jicheng, Zhang Weipeng, Yang Yi, Terry Rhoads, Chris Renner, Bruce O’Neil, Frank Sha, and others. I’m grateful to the folks at Li Ning, who offered insights into China’s push to develop homegrown brands. Li Yuanwei, the recently retired commissioner of the CBA, granted me an interview, while other CBA officials also made time for me. Ma Guoli offered a unique perspective. I met with different team owners, Chinese journalists, interpreters, players, and others; to all of you, many, many thanks.
Most of all, I want to thank the Shanxi Brave Dragons. Wang Xingjiang, or Boss Wang, allowed me to be a part of the team and never hesitated to give me his unvarnished opinions. The coaches and players welcomed me and gave me shelter; at different times, I lived with Bob and Tracy Weiss, Olumide Oyedeji, and, for a few nights, I even managed to slip into the dorm for the Chinese players. Thank you all.
I was also fortunate to draw upon a lot of expert advice closer to home. I am from a family of journalists. My mother, Rosemary Roberts, taught me to write as a little boy, and I’m so grateful for the lifetime of love and support she has given me. My father, Jonathan Yardley, has been this book’s most steadfast reader and biggest supporter. I could not have done it without him. My brother, Bill Yardley, offered me the best advice of anyone at a particularly dark hour in a long writing process: “Just quit,” he said. It was the laugh I needed. I also want to thank my stepmother, the remarkable writer Marie Arana; and my mother-in-law, the remarkable editor Jennifer Blakebrough Raeburn. Much love and gratitude also goes to my stepfather, Don Boulton; to Barbara Liveratos and Vlad Marinich; and to my brothers-in-law, Cole and Alec Liveratos. Cole and Alec, I owe you each a street oyster.
Finally, I want to thank my wife, Theo, and my three children, Olivia, George, and Eddie. This book consumed three years of our lives, across three countries, and I am so grateful for your love, patience, and good humor. To Theo, I love you dearly. To Olivia, George, and Eddie, I promise to stop disappearing on weekends.
New Delhi, India
September 2011
A NOTE ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jim Yardley has worked as a journalist for The New York Times for the past fourteen years, including eight years as a foreign correspondent and bureau chief in China and India. His reportage on China’s legal system won the 2006 Pulitzer Prize for International Reporting, which he shared with a colleague, Joseph Kahn. He has also won or shared numerous other awards, including the Overseas Press Club Award for best environmental coverage and the Sigma Delta Chi Award for best foreign reporting from the Society of Professional Journalists. He lives in New Delhi with his wife, Theo, and their three children, Olivia, George, and Eddie.