Centers, a group the league and its fans have nearly forgotten. In a world ruled by fast breaks and dominated by forwards, centers are an awkward tactical presence. The position that once reigned supreme has surrendered its throne and is gradually being marginalized in the NBA. A center's only role now is to grab rebounds and tip in misses, or float around the perimeter like Okur and deliver precision strikes with three-pointers. Look at the aging Shaq, the retired veteran, Yao Ming nearing thirty, Howard with his crude post-up game, and Oden with the face of a forty-year-old man. The spectacular sight of the four great centers battling for supremacy in the 1990s has all but disappeared, which is why every Yao-Shaq matchup becomes a media sensation. The league simply can't find another pair of centers capable of putting on such an exciting contest. Today's NBA is ruled by a pack of athletic forwards and guards, and fast-break specialists: long arms unfurling in midair, thunderous dunks, pinpoint threes, no-look passes, and alley-oops. Centers have little glory left to call their own. This is a story about a center, a young Chinese center who writes his own legend in the league. A center is like a sword of dark iron: heavy and keen, achieving greatness through simplicity.
