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      February 15, 2017LinsanityKien Lam

      Part of me is always
      ten years old and too small,
      puberty-slow and too poor
      to be wasting time on games,
      so when Lin sinks the winner
      in Toronto and the large Asian crowd
      goes wild like they’ve never
      seen an Asian man be the guy,
      like they’ve never seen a caricature
      tear a hole in the movie screen
      and crawl out, the way cartoons
      used to dig through the center
      of the Earth and find themselves
      in an imagined version of China—
      when the shot falls, for just
      a moment I see my face
      on the screen, the counter
      restarted from three
      and I set my feet
      until two where I pump
      my arm up, ninety degrees
      the way I was taught
      and I ready myself
      to jump on one
      where I will release
      the ball at the very
      point I am farthest away
      from the Earth, where
      for just a moment
      it might seem
      like the thick iron
      ball anchored
      in this planet’s heart
      will untether me
      from its chain,
      where for once
      it will feel
      like there isn’t
      anything
      above me I’m not
      supposed to touch.

      from #54 - Winter 2016

      Kien Lam

      “When the whole Linsanity thing was happening, people were quick to call him overrated. Some pundits hated him. Even his team supposedly didn’t like his newfound stardom. And my white friends wanted the hype to go away. I wanted them to go away. Goddamn if I can’t watch an Asian dude ball out at my favorite sport—the major sport that most prominently features the faces of its stars. It doesn’t hide its people of color like football. It’s not steeped in the same kind of white history as baseball. How cool is that? And how important? I hope @JLin7 tears it up in Brooklyn this year.”