Dear Yao Ming,

Let's rewind a few weeks, shall we? The date is Feb. 24, the Houston Rockets have just won their 12th game in a row, you've been playing pretty well, and in general, you're feeling all tall and important.

Next thing you know you're injured—out for the season. The season! Rockets fans are devastated. You are devastated.

Fans, reporters, analysts, bloggers and probably Moochie Norris all think the Rockets are done. How can they possibly contend without their 7' 6" All Star center?

So you become the tallest and highest paid cheerleader in the history of the NBA.

You're pleased when the Rockets win their first couple of games without you. But then they win a couple more, and a couple more after that.

You start to feel a little insecure.

Fast forward to March 16—the Rockets have now won 22 in a row. On the outside, you're happy your team is having so much success. On the inside, you secretly wish they would lose—just once! Is that so much to ask?

The team was supposed to be done, buried, finished without you. Yet here they are ruling like the Ming Dynasty—except without Ming.

As you know, the Boston Celtics finally ended the Rockets winning streak.  I'm sure you acted upset.  You probably put your arm around Dikembe Mutombo and said something about getting them next time.  He probably responded with something that sounded like English being spoken underwater.

At least you can take solace in the fact that the Rockets couldn't win 23 straight without you, and that your secret is safe with me.

Sincerely,

R. LeBaron

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