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http://blogs.chron.com/nba/
Yao Da Man
Yao Ming felt awful.
He had traveled from Shanghai, gotten up before the sunrise, been poked and
prodded for hours in physicals that began at 7 a.m., dragged on to close to
noon and was followed by a trip to the dentist.
As he spoke during the long, mid-afternoon drive from Houston to Austin,
every third word was a cough.
The plan to have him begin walking through the Rockets' new sets was
scotched, surrendered to understanding and common sense.
Yao w |
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