It was my first trip to Beijing, second trip to China. After 17 hours or so on a plane and a 13-hour time change, my own backyard would've looked foreign. Throw in street signs and billboards illegible to an untrained Western eye, a language equally indecipherable and a culture built on wholly different principles and the mind struggles to sift through the stimuli.

	VC makes time for the fans, and if you think that makes him soft, the joke's on you.

Roll with Vince Carter and his crew -- Nike liasion Marc Eversley, bodyguard Andre "P-Nut" Cottle and IMG liasion Jeff Scott -- and a prism to bring the world back into focus is provided. Be forewarned: animals and gambling are involved.

Perhaps, though, I should explain why I was traipsing through Beijing, Hong Kong and Taipei with Vince and Co. Carter has a new shoe, Nike Shox VC II, hitting the stores in December. Thanks to last season's knee injury and his failure to help the Raptors battle for the Eastern Conference title, ASVC I bombed. On top of that, Vince went from being touted as a player who could restore the popularity of a post-Jordan NBA to a prime example of what's wrong with the league today.

As Vince is the hoop world's Greta Garbo, only those close to him knew, or felt, differently. Nike naturally wanted someone to see why. I was willing to take a look and Vince was willing to give it. Only catch: I'd have to follow him to China.

So that's how I ended up in the back of a white van inching through traffic on Dongchang'an Jie back to Vince's hotel when P-Nut abruptly slugged Vince and then Jeff in the thigh. Odd behavior for a bodyguard, I thought, and by their quizzical expressions, Jeff and Vince were thinking that, too.

"Punch buggy," P-Nut said, pointing to a green VW Bug headed the other way. "Ha!"

While my head swam at Beijing's strangeness, Vince and the Crew made simple but perceptive observations, then bet on whether or not they'd stick. The streets were chock full of Volkswagens, but nary a Beetle. Hence the "punch buggy" bet, meaning the first to see one could slug the others.

"You don't see any cats, either," P-Nut said.

"I haven't even seen a squirrel," Jeff said.

Vince offered $200 to the first person to see a stray dog. "Not on a leash," he said. "He has to be free-lancing."

By the time the tour got to Taipei, almost none of the bets have been won and the wagering gets more creative. Mopeds jam the streets here the way bicycles do in Beijing, so Vince offers P-Nut $200 if he'll get out of the van and hitch a ride on one back to the hotel. P-Nut, a self-proclaimed "4XL," figures persuading a Taiwanese to ferry a large black man on the back of his scooter is worth twice that.

During the tour, it becomes clear to me why Nike and his friends love Vince. When he starts throwing Gatorade bottles in his bag after a workout, he's genuinely grateful when told the entire cooler will be placed in his room. (Most star players I know would've demanded it.) Asked to make an unscheduled visit to a Nike sales meeting, he does so without complaint. Plunked down outside a Taipei sporting goods store in broiling heat that has him drenched within minutes, he slips inside the store after doing his bit and laughs as he towels himself off. While eating lunch, he offers a media person (!) his last Chicken McNugget. When asked by a Hong Kong reporter what he thinks of the food, he admits he doesn't like Chinese but adds, "your rotisserie chicken ain't bad."

Then there's his athletic magic. In Taipei, as VC gets the crowd going by whirling his finger a couple of times, asking if that's what they want to see him do, Eversley wonders out loud if he's going to try a 720-degree dunk. The crew's faith is such that they believe he's capable of anything.

But making people believe there's nothing you can't do is only a small part of being a leader. Another part is making friend and foe believe there's nothing you won't do to come out on top. If Vince has that sort of cutthroat edge, he hasn't revealed it. When asked who the leaders were at North Carolina, Warriors forward and Tar Heel teammate Antawn Jamison ticks off four or five names without mentioning Vince.

"When things aren't going well, Vince isn't the kind of guy who in the huddle says, 'Yo, this is what we have to do,' " Jamison said. "But I think he can learn. It's all about him getting comfortable with the role. The only thing I'm scared about is him trying to portray somebody he's not. I don't want him to come out and be a mean guy, cussing people out. That's not Vince."

Vince doesn't believe that's necessary to fulfill his role.

"I have the mentality that it's my world, my ball, my team, back out of the way," he says. "But I feel it has to be fine-tuned. You have to know just how far to go to keep everybody happy."

	Yao, he's tall.

On the last night of the trip, Vince and his crew are in the elevator gliding up to his penthouse suite. P-Nut bets $5 that Allen the butler, who attended that night's exhibition, will be waiting for them when the crew arrives even though thy're home early (the van got the VIP exit treatment). The elevator doors open and P-Nut calls out, "Allen?"

"Yes?" a voice replies.

"You the man, Allen!" P-Nut says. "Ha!"

P-Nut will get his $5, but Vince has something better in mind for Allen. He pads down the hall and presents the butler with his dunk-exhibition jersey.

Nice guys, it's been said, finish last. Vince is out to prove otherwise -- and he's willing to bet on it.

Ric Bucher covers the NBA for ESPN The Magazine. E-mail him at ric.bucher@espnmag.com.