You've been there.

Somebody you work with has a friend coming in from out of town, but can't get the day off. Everybody knows it.

The day comes. The co-worker calls in with a sudden case of food poisoning. There's nothing anybody can really say - it's an excuse that defies challenge. Yet it's so transparent, a vast, lazy insult to everyone's intelligence.

Kenyon Martin's suddenly urgent need to get back to his family feels a lot like that.

Not even two months into his stint in China - does six weeks even qualify as a stint? - Martin walked out on his record-breaking one-year contract with the Xinjiang Flying Tigers after a disappointing beginning.

He came bearing the promise of a long-awaited title.

He left in a cloud of half-hearted lies.

OK, he has to sit out until Xinjiang's season is over. He doesn't get ALL the money from his contract. He has "family matters" to attend to. Spare me.

Look, I get it as well as anybody. I've been in China five months. It can be a difficult adjustment, one that seems unbearable at times. You don't live abroad without thinking about bailing out from time to time. Things that are a bit difficult at home seem insurmountable 10,000 miles away from it. Most of us learn to develop a positive attitude, and have faith we'll adapt. We did, after all, make a commitment to ourselves and our employer to be here.

I thought about that when I saw Martin play against the Beijing Ducks earlier this month. I thought about it when he lost his cool and gave the ball a petulant kick into the bleachers when the Flying Tigers were down 19 in the third quarter. I thought about it when he wandered the court looking very lost after Xinjiang's furious comeback attempt - led, incidentally, by Pat Mills, not Martin - came up short.

He looked like a man who did not want to be in China.

Martin gambled when he signed with Xinjiang. He thought, or at least his agent thought, the NBA season was toast. Most everybody did. So with some free time in a career that has more games behind it than in front, why not come to China and make a few bucks? Better yet, how about trying to tap into that massive Chinese marketing well? Breeze through the CBA competition, get some face time in the big TV markets, add a title to his rsum.

Leave a hero, and still make it home in time to watch March Madness.

Sweet deal, right?

And then, suddenly, the NBA finds a way to pull a deal together. And the competition is a little tougher than anticipated. And maybe Martin doesn't care quite as much as he thought he would. And the Flying Tigers lose a couple close ones, and that title doesn't seem so imminent, and Christmas is right around the corner, and who cares about a $2.7 million contract when you'll probably make it back in three months once you're free to play in the NBA?

A victimless crime.

Of course, there's still the matter of coach Bob Donewald, who lost his job this week after the Flying Tigers' (read: Martin's) uninspired start. There's the matter of the team, which suddenly has a franchise-sized hole to fill with two months left in the season after putting all its eggs in the Kenyon Martin basket. There's the matter of those masses of fans who invested money, time and hope in a would-be ambassador from the NBA. There's the terrible precedent his departure sets for the remaining foreign players.

But none of that matters, right?

And hey, there's a place in the NBA set aside for guys who take the easy way out. So go away, Kenyon Martin.

The Miami Heat eagerly awaits your arrival.

Dusty Lane can be reached at dustin.l.lane@gmail.com.

(China Daily 12/25/2011 page7)