"Yao Ming retires as an ambassador of the game and a cultural figure greater than most of his peers, but the saddest thing about his retirement is he never got the chance to grow out of that.

Jul 11, 2011 - Even on the final play of his NBA career, Yao Ming's own individual pain was hidden from plain view. The Houston Rockets were playing the Washington Wizards, and Yao had just taken a charge on a typically out-of-control drive by JaVale McGee. He didn't lay on the floor for several minutes. He didn't cause the crowd to gasp knowing they had seen the great Yao Ming for the final time.

Instead, two Rockets players helped him up and walked with him back to the bench. He took one step forward, then another. And another. And another. And another. And another. And another. On his eighth step, he felt a pain in his foot, and crunched his face up. The Wizards' feed had cut away by now, but the Rockets one caught a shot of it and freezed the frame for several seconds.

Looking back, it's eerie. At its most basic level, it's eerie because nobody knew at the time that Yao Ming would never play NBA basketball again. But it's also eerie because the whole sequence sums up the odd career Yao Ming had. For the first seven steps of his walk off the court, he was a pillar of stability, able to carry his 7'6'' body and, seemingly, so much expectations other people placed on him. It was only on that eighth step where the pain of carrying all that weight came through, and only the few fans watching on the Rockets feed on replay saw it. Even after that, he carried himself like a tower of force, walking off on his own power and not getting the chance to show anyone just how much pain he was in. The symbolism of Yao as a Great Wall had never felt so appropriate and inappropriate at the same time."