Chapter 121: The Retirement of Yao Ming

Claudeson, after all, lacked a certain imposing presence. Jobs played a relatively softer style. Although both were capable players, facing a dominant inside presence put them at a disadvantage. Even with someone like Chandler, the Warriors were already struggling.

How wonderful it would be to have a top-tier center.

Yao Ming—that name came to everyone’s mind, at least among the Warriors’ fans.

This was precisely because the Warriors lacked a pure center to boost their offense, and they had once held great admiration for Yao Ming.

But during the course of the season, unfortunate news arrived.

Yao Ming was injured in the playoffs. His left foot—the very foot that was so critical. The entire league was shaken; Yao Ming was injured once again.

The Warriors were still playing, but the news had already exploded throughout the arena, a testament to its profound impact.

Yao Ming had retired. This was the immediate reaction. The giant from China could no longer endure the intense physical demands of the NBA and had fallen.

Originally, the Warriors had hoped to one day bring Yao Ming on board, to build a team with two Chinese players, but now that was impossible.

During a timeout, someone relayed the news to Lin Fei. His heart skipped a beat, and he was at a loss for words.

Lin Fei’s idol was gone. Though he had enjoyed watching many players, none captivated him like Yao Ming, the idol of an entire generation in China. Now, he would never step foot on that court again.

Lin Fei still remembered the game against the Rockets. Despite being plagued by injuries, Yao Ming had stood on the court, demonstrating the dominance of a legendary center. The Warriors simply had no answer for him. Yet, in the blink of an eye, Yao Ming had retired.

He recalled watching Yao Ming’s games back in school, even skipping classes to do so. He remembered the era with “Uncle Fred,” the MM duo, the historic 22-game winning streak, the nationwide fervor for Yao Ming, and how he proudly led the Rockets past the Trail Blazers to challenge the champion Lakers. Now, all of that was gone.

Every hero, perhaps, must face twilight. Maybe he himself would one day—though for now he was still hailed as a hero, it was far too soon to think otherwise.

Would he too one day be defeated by an opponent—the relentless passage of time?

He couldn’t help but think of himself. His physical condition was poor; Yao Ming’s was no different. Would he face injury? Honestly, under such intense competition, it was sometimes overwhelming. But he was still young and had held on—yet for how long? Just like Yao Ming, who never made it past 27 years old and only truly played for four or five years. Yao Ming was now retired, his hands empty—seven All-Star appearances but never reaching the heights of true glory.

Lin Fei was fiercely determined. As a clutch player and deadly scorer, he remained calm and strong. Yet, if you were his friend, you’d see that sometimes he was fragile. As an introvert, forced by his rising success to face the spotlight, few truly understood what he was thinking. Often, Lin Fei preferred to be alone in quiet solitude. Deep down, he longed for companionship—but there was no one.

For the league, the news was sensational. But for many players, it barely caused a stir. For Lin Fei, however, it struck deeply, as if a pillar of hope had crumbled, directly affecting his performance against the Mavericks.

Shortly after, Lin Fei made a mistake. Under a double-team, he forced a drive using his speed, but while turning, a slight touch from a teammate caused him to lose control of the ball.

Later, Lin Fei brought the ball to midcourt again and took a three-point shot that rimmed out without touching the net.

Nielsen clearly noticed Lin Fei’s distracted state and promptly substituted him out.