Within a few practices, Demopoulos realized that Griner's coaches had no idea how to work an offense3 through a dominant center. Everything was focused on the wings. "I was angry when they questioned my ability," Griner says. "They told Dean, 'You need to work on her post moves.' If the losses were my fault, I would take that on. But these weren't my fault."

They're a classic odd couple, Griner and Demopoulos, the laid-back Texan and the straight shooter from Philadelphia. Griner tries her best to fit in, even when it's obvious to everyone else that Li's micromanaging is hampering the offense. Set a screen exactly at this spot, exactly at this angle, the coach will say, and Griner does it. But the other players wish she would assert herself more.4 "BG blends in with us really well," says forward Chen Xiaoli, speaking through a translator. "But I hope she can be more expressive on the court and really own the game."

During one January practice, the team runs successive offensive sets without filling the corner. After the third possession, Demopoulos points dramatically at the empty space, then walks onto the court and stands in the corner, putting both hands on his head as if pulling out his hair. It's a universal gesture, but no one is paying attention. "I've never been so frustrated in my life," he says later. "Li will call the team into the huddle and hold out her whistle, letting it dangle, as if to say, 'See, I'm the coach.' She pushes your spirit. And that's challenging for Britt."

The Golden Bulls practice twice a day, for several hours at a time, often past the point when anything useful might be achieved. But Griner, like Moore and most foreign stars, has a clause in her contract requiring her to practice only once a day. (She also flies first class, a nice upgrade from coach in the WNBA.) Quality over quantity can be an alien concept for Chinese coaches, and WNBA players must guard against burnout. "Foreigners get different treatment, but it's still hard," Moore says. "You get close to your teammates and want what's best for them."

Griner loves her teammates, and they love her. Basketball is their only common language, but Griner shines at nonverbal communication, often putting an arm around another player's shoulder or talking with her hands. Sometimes during practice, when Li is in the middle of a rant directed elsewhere, Griner makes goofy faces at her teammates as they struggle to look serious. When gestures aren't enough, she calls on her translator, Shirley Huang, who follows Griner around the court, quickly relaying everything Li tells the players.

Such intense dependency is difficult for a player who spent much of her final year in college yearning for more freedom. "She has to f -- ing order my food for me," says Griner, who limits herself to a rotation of American fast-food joints. "She stands on the court with me. And if I get yelled at, she has to translate it for me. It makes me nervous, at the end of a game, when Shirley is trying to get me info quickly. What if I don't understand it all? That's my worst fear, that I'll mess up and cost us the game. Sometimes I'll point at the board -- Show me -- because I can understand that."

Griner doesn't always follow the rules. Li has a no-candy policy, but Griner has persuaded Huang to carry a pack of Mentos at all times. When Li brings the team together at center court during practice, Griner and Huang stand shoulder to shoulder, arms crossed behind their backs, as Huang deftly passes the candy to Griner, like prisoners exchanging contraband at roll call. Once the coach looks away, Griner pops the candy into her mouth and discreetly chews -- an act of disobedience that seems less about the Mentos and more about keeping a piece of her identity.

AS THE GOLDEN BULLS wait to board a flight, Griner slumps in her seat. She has been in China for two months, and the pressure is getting to her. She wants to go home. "I have to bring it every day, every game," she says. "If I don't, they'll replace me with another American." After a few minutes, Griner stands and disappears into a shop, returning with a pint of vanilla Häagen-Dazs. It's 10 a.m. "Breakfast of champions," Demopoulos says, shaking his head.

Griner rolls her eyes at him, then tries digging the tiny plastic spoon into the ice cream, which is as hard as cement. She taps the spoon against it a few times, then sighs and slouches farther into her seat. She knows she needs to eat better, but her habits are hard to break in China, for reasons Moore knows all too well. "My first year here, I would get french fries and fried chicken because it was like a little taste of home," Moore says. "You're tired, you're lonely, you want to see your friends and family. Eating for comfort -- I think we've all done that."

A few times a week, Griner hops a taxi to Angelo's, an American-style restaurant in trendy West Lake, about 45 minutes from the team hotel. She orders the same thing every visit: steak and fries. During her first couple of months in China, she was rarely alone. She flew over with two of her best friends from Baylor. And in early January, she was joined by her girlfriend, Cherelle Watson, a prelaw student at Baylor, who stayed for two weeks.

Watson sat in the stands during practices, a coat draped over her lap because the arena temperature is about 50 degrees. Griner's teammates would nod hello, but only later, back at the hotel, did they acknowledge Watson as more than just a friend. Sometimes Griner hosts a few of them inside her suite. They play video games and talk, with Huang translating. The players ask Griner what it's like being gay in America. Mostly they are curious about life in the WNBA. "Our life is quite boring," Chen says. "We are ordered to spend our time at the arena and hotel."

Griner feels their confinement as her own. "BG hasn't experienced any of this before," Chen says. "We see how hard she is trying, even if she's not perfect. She is adapting, but she is not losing herself."

When teammates talk about Griner, they smile often, quickly bringing a hand to cover their mouths, because in China it is poor etiquette for women to show their teeth. "She never eats vegetables," Chen says, almost giggling. "She plays video games like she is a kid."

"She is always happy," adds Shen Binbin, a starting guard. "I never see her get angry. When the season is over, I'd like to go back to America with her."

"Me too," Chen says.

They both smile, keeping their heads down.

Towering over just about everyone, Griner drew stares everywhere she went in China. Sim Chi Yin/VII for ESPN

THE GOLDEN BULLS finish the regular season 15-7 and advance to the semifinals of the WCBA playoffs before losing to Moore's Shanxi Flame. Griner steadily improves as the season progresses, and her teammates get better at feeding the post. She averages 24.1 points, 10.3 rebounds and 3.7 blocks per game in her first winter overseas and is named MVP of the league's All-Star Game.

When she left for China, Griner was focused on specific improvement: strengthening her core muscles, fine-tuning her court skills, eating healthier -- enhancements that would be evidence of personal growth in the eyes of her Mercury bosses and teammates. But some things can't be measured so easily, as Demopoulos notes one afternoon while walking back to the hotel after practice. He came to China intent on training a young basketball player, never imagining that the challenge would morph into something bigger for both of them: finding a way to thrive, or at least survive, in a place where so much of what they knew beforehand meant so little once they arrived.

"Oh, BG is learning and growing," Demopoulos says. "Maybe just not in the ways we initially anticipated."

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