In Yao Ming's view, how to deal with that Japanese guy was a problem.
First of all, using official channels to deal with him was out of the question.
Having the authorities deal with a minor internet celebrity from Japan would be downright embarrassing if word got out.
It wouldn't just be embarrassing for one person. It would be embarrassing for China.
If a Chinese professional player dealt with him, winning wouldn't be anything to brag about, and losing would be even more embarrassing.
They could only hope that there were plenty of skilled people outside the professional ranks in China, and that some streetball player would step up and wipe the smirk off his face.
But the guy's basketball skills were clearly impressive. He had obviously received systematic professional training, and with his talent, he should have been good enough to play professionally. It was hard to say why he never had.
Sending some ordinary streetball player without professional training to deal with him would make winning genuinely difficult.
To Yao Ming, the guy was like a fly buzzing incessantly over your head.
Blasting him with a cannon would be a waste, but you couldn't shoo him away, either.
And now the guy had actually gone after Wang Yi.
Yao Ming was thinking exactly the same thing as Wang Yaoxue.
Now that the guy had targeted Wang Yi, Wang Yi would lose no matter what he did.
Little Fatty had once made a panel of judges eat Nine-Turn Intestines, in what could be called the greatest publicity trap of its time.
If they didn't eat it, they couldn't eliminate him. But if they did eat it, they would fall right into his trap.
In the end, to eliminate him, the judges had to steel themselves and eat the poop,