BEIJING -- The two sides of China flashed in full view last week, and the Dodgers were a part of it. They played the Padres before a packed crowd here in a new Olympic stadium in this sprawling land's first major-league game. This was the good side.
Elsewhere, peaceful protests against Chinese rule by Buddhist monks that began in the Tibetan capital of Lhasa a week ago have spread into violence in Sichuan province and other parts of western China. Some reports say 80 people have died in the clashes. This was the ugly side.
The baseball was fantastic and Beijing is as dynamic a city as one can imagine. The Chinese are focusing laser energy on making sure the city shines for this summer's Olympics. But just below the surface, there are fault lines caused by paranoia and a hardened, old-school approach to dealing with dissent.
After spending the last several days in high-security Beijing, I got a sinking sense that those fault lines just might become wide, gaping fissures when the world shows up come August.
China, it appears, has a problem. A self-image problem. Walk around Beijing, a place teeming now with police and soldiers and manic 24-hour construction and you get a gut-level sense that this is a nation too worried about what others think, too concerned with looking good, new and perfect. It's a self-image that, despite evolving openness, still leads to an obsession with control.
All around Beijing and the Dodgers last week were signs of paranoia. It was the black hotel TV screen that appeared every time CNN aired a story that gave light to China's problems. It was the Internet sites about the latest troubles in China you could not find and the phalanx of police who pushed and argued with Dodgers pitcher Chan Ho Park, keeping him through sheer force from walking where he wanted to sign autographs.
It was also the man who followed me as I interviewed fans at Wukesong Stadium, the "hidden" cameras, the stern-faced police, soldiers and security guards that seemed to be everywhere. By my count, 67 of them stood outside the Dodgers' clubhouse after the game Sunday.
Of course, this was because of the unrest linked to Tibet.
The games at Wukesong Stadium had all the trappings of home. Hip-hop blared, fans cheered and booed. There was "The Star-Spangled Banner" and the seventh-inning stretch. There were cheerleaders. As the games were played, in Tibet there was misery. Soldiers had put boots to the necks of protesters. The Chinese government was sending a message, loud and clear: Do not make a move that might embarrass, especially not now.
