Jeff Yoo, 35, from Canada started to post his climbing videos on Instagram in 2017 to share them with others. However, he closed his account to focus on his full-time work as an emergency doctor near the beginning of March 2020.

Yoo uses social media as a mental escape from stress working in the emergency room and to connect with other climbers around the world. But during the first COVID-19 wave, he and other climbers were criticized on the Internet for continuing to climb during the global lockdown. “At that time, social media contributed more stress to my life. Every time I opened the app, it added more stress to my already stress-filled life,” Yoo said. But due to his desire to continue sharing his passion for climbing and connect with others, Yoo reopened his Instagram account two or three weeks later.

Unlike most accomplished and full-time climbers who had begun training at a young age, Yoo got into the sport at the age of 25. Yoo thought that his story could serve as an example to prove that it’s possible for people who work other full-time jobs to also climb and go on wild adventures.

More importantly, Yoo, who was born in Canada with parents from South Korea, has always struggled to be a positive role model for younger ethnic minorities in his community. They often do not have equal opportunities to participate in organized sports or outdoor activities like climbing. “Asians are often misrepresented in North American culture and TV and I hope that my abilities in climbing and contributions as a doctor will positively represent Asians,” Yoo said.

“Some day, there’ll be no Americans left in the NBA,” said 12-year-old Xing Tao, who joined his school team two weeks ago after watching Yao Ming in a televised NBA game, “The players will all be Chinese, like Yao. ”

To China, Yao is a home-grown superstar who helped make the world’s first basketball league closer to Chinese players. To the NBA, the 2. 23-meter center offers an opening of a different sort into the world’s largest new market. Yao’s NBA first appearance against the Indiana Pacers in October reached 287 million families in the US. That game might have been a bit of a letdown to Yao’s fans: He played just 11 of the 48 minutes, had two rebounds (篮板) and got no points. Comparing that with his performance on December 19, also against Indiana, Yao won 29 points and 10 rebounds. “This was one of the most exciting games I’ve had,” Yao said after Houston’s 95-83 victory. The NBA has to be excited about his on-count success. In all his games, he’s averaging 12. 7 points and 7. 7 rebounds, quite good for a new star. “Yao Ming has brought the NBA closer to the Chinese,” said NBA spokeswoman Cheong Sau Ching, “That makes the dream seem practical for other people in China and proud to be Chinese. ”

The 22-year-old Yao is not the country’s first player in the NBA: Wang Zhizhi broke down the Dallas Mavericks in November 2003. But Yao’s combination of modesty (谦虚) and skills make him a favorite back home.

Ice formed in the small pool. Then I would go to the hockey rink (冰球场). I picked up my hockey stick, holding it in the way I formed a big “T”, stepped onto the ice, and moved closely toward the middle. Should I go through, the stick would hopefully keep me from going completely under.

The next day it rained. Rain can do one of two things to a backyard hockey rink. It can either make it the smoothest surface, or it can turn it into those terrible rumble strips (减速带) on the highways. More often it is the latter. On Saturday morning my brother discovered that was what had happened to our ice. “Let’s go and see Dad.”

Taking an old iron box from the backyard, my father taught us to fill it with wood. He then tied a line to a hole at one end of it — the homemade Zamboni (磨冰机) machine, “Once the fire really gets going, the box will get really hot,” he said. “Then we just move it around and it will smooth down the bumpy (不平的) surface.” Finally, Dad began to move it across the pool. After about twenty yards, still moving forward, he said to us over his shoulder, “Well?” “Nothing,” I answered.

For many people this might have been the sign to end the project. But not our father. As we skated off the ice and returned to the kitchen for hot chocolate, he kept going, patiently walking line after line. He stayed out there, until afternoon turned into early evening. The pool would have to wait for warmer weather.

There’s a lesson in the Zamboni about fatherhood, I think: that it is not about being perfect in your actions but perfect in your intention. Love is not smooth as glass, but bumpy as ice with rumble strips, and holes, and places to fall down. Sometimes no one will be watching you walk line after line, but they’ll remember that you were out there.

Perhaps the Zamboni really did work.