Steve Nash
Phoenix Suns, Dallas Mavericks...etc./Point guard
2015/MAR/21st
I'm going to retire.
I once heard someone say: There will come a day when we can no longer fight. We are no longer competent: perhaps our capabilities no longer meet our needs; perhaps our speed is too slow to keep up. When you're a teenager with big dreams and a growing passion, it's shocking to have someone tell you that you can't keep playing like this for the rest of your life. I can never forget it.
what do I do? Continue to be passionate, and set goals, continue to work hard, continue to dream, continue to plan, and push yourself beyond ordinary and expected levels. I will look at my idol:Isiah Thomas, and thinking to myself, "Okay, I'm still far from him now, but if I continue to improve every day, and then play for 5 to 10 years, who says I can't be as good as him?"
Being able to fully immerse yourself in your passion and fight for what you love is the best thing - I climbed the ladder to my dreams and got closer to my idols step by step. My passion became my best friend, I spoke to her, I cherished her, fought alongside her, and was struck down hard by her.
And that's what I'm most grateful for in my career. From some angles, maybe the whole life. Obviously, I put my kids and my family before the game, but on other levels, having this friend, this constant pursuit, made me who I am as a person. He constantly taught me, tested me, and gave me an irreplaceable task. I'm grateful for it all. I learned so many priceless lessons about myself and life. Of course, I still have a lot to learn, so this is another great gift.
There are so many people who have played an important role in my successful career or have had a profound impact on me. I can't mention them all, but I think I can name a few.
Don Nelson insisted I score. I always put passing first, but he always said, "You'd be so damn selfish not to shoot," or "If you're a fucking clutch player, show me what you're doing!" he insisted. Want me to stay aggressive. This growth was a turning point in my entire career.
Not many people can, but Mike D'Antoni changed the game of basketball. No wonder I did my best under him. His intelligence prevents him from overcoaching or complicating or messing up the essence of the game. He deserves a championship ring.
When I was a rookie, dribbling past our Suns bench, Danny Ainge would say, "Get him!" with contempt and emotion. It was a huge boost to a rookie team's confidence.
I had flashbacks to when Dirk and I were nobody in the league. He would sometimes say after dinner: "When will it be our turn for the two guys to establish themselves in the league?" Looking back, we really achieved something. After all those wins and all the good times we shared around the world, what means the most to me are those late nights early in our careers when we went back to the Landry Center in Dallas and played a few more games. HORSE and one-on-one duels. Dirk and his great city, Dallas, got their Champions League win and I couldn't be happier for them.
Michael Finley was a two-time All-Star at the height of his career, and Dirk and I were just young guys on the Mavericks. Michael never made the All-Star team again, but under his influence, our team went from last place to the Western Conference Championship Game. Do you know how unselfishly we played back then? He is a true teammate and friend.
When I was little, I looked up to Jay Triano, the star defender on the Canadian national team. He recruited me in high school and coached me at the Sydney Olympics. His passion for the game and his competitive spirit rubbed off on me. Representing Canada at the Olympics was the best experience of my career and I couldn't have had more fun playing for anyone. And He led me to that state.
Rick Celebrini has had as much impact on my career as anyone else. He is my physical therapist, counselor, best friend, and big brother. He is world class.
Alvin Gentry really picked up our team. He's an underrated and pretty smart guy. He strikes a good balance between being a coach, a friend, and enforcing his disciplinary identity. It was a great honor to play for him.
My sister is absolutely amazing. He has all the qualities you would expect from a sibling. He gave me endless support.
My brother and I would compete in any sport, any time, any place. We have precious memories of growing up trying to outdo each other in any game and trying to catch up to our idols in every sport. Man, you're not going to be as good an athlete as me, but you're close.
My mother is also endlessly supportive. She encouraged me and warned me not to make mistakes in sports. She was such a strong woman, and I think I grew up under her influence. Not everyone has a mother like her, and I hope she always feels my gratitude.
My father was also a semi-professional football player. When he was a kid, he would often applaud those creative goals in the backyard or after games. He appreciates selflessness the most. He never praises "Wow! Three goals scored!" but says "Have good vision in the movement and see the progress of teammates" or "You can still pass the ball unselfishly when you can shoot. I'm proud of it." I know that's different, and I'm grateful.
Jenny Miller has run my foundation for me for over 10 years, and she has never strayed from me or our mission. We've been friends since we were kids, and I can count on her brilliance.
My high school coaches, Lanny and Sheff, saw the passion and energy I had for basketball and the game, and they tried to find ways to focus it even more on me. They enlightened me something.
My high school coach, Ian Hyde-Lay, was the best coach in my life. He instilled in me discipline, attention to detail, and the importance of preparation. When he still sent me an e-mail 20 years after I graduated from high school, saying that I forgot my card position in the last eight minutes of the fourth quarter of a game against the Memphis Grizzlies, I really I was so inspired that when I rewatched the video of the fourth quarter later, yes, he was right. Here are the details.
Ken Shields gave the then 16-year-old me the chance to practice with the Canadian national team simply because he saw potential in me. Four years later, I was the starting point guard on his team that won a world championship. I owe him this.
I didn't know it at first, but the reason my Santa Barbara coach, Dick Davey, fucked me so hard was because he thought I had so much potential. He gave me mental fortitude. This strength allows me to continue to overcome difficulties and reminds myself to never give up.
Bill Duffy has been my agent throughout my basketball journey. My big brother, he always has my back.
What does a man with big hands look like? What about people with flexible speed? A'mare Stoudemire has both -- and his athleticism makes me look like an artist on the court at times. Thank you, big man.
Not being able to win a championship for Phoenix fans that they deserved was a pain along the way. Yes, we were not that lucky, but I often look back and reflect, if I could have made more shots, or missed fewer mistakes, or made a better pass, would the outcome have been different? But I don’t have any regrets, the stadium is always full and exciting. This was one of the most important years of my life, thank you, Phoenix.
When people ask me if I have a favorite game, or goal or moment on the field, I often can't answer them. These have become a part of my life. What I'm thinking of are the teammates I've fought alongside and the friends I've made over the years. Guys like Al Whitley, Chris Isherwood, Jason Sedlock, Drew Zurek, Rowan Barrett, Andrew Mavis, Rex Chapman, Leandro Barbosa, Raja Bell, Grant Hill and Rob Sacre. The years we experienced together were the best and will always be in my heart.
Phoenix's training staff (or training room mafia) often reminds us with on-field statistics. They keep me in shape and help me stay sane. Hey, it wasn't a bad time we had.
When I signed with the Lakers, I had big dreams, to use basketball to ignite the passion of our fans and this city. Because of this idea, I turned down better offers and came to Los Angeles to play a high-risk, high-reward style of play in my final chapter in the NBA. But then I broke my foot in my second game with the Lakers and it was never the same again.
I came back last spring and Staples Center cheered me the whole game, and that was one of the best memories of a dark period in my career. I was very negative online at the time, but during my nearly three years in Los Angeles, there was not a single person I didn't meet with love and support from everyone. The Lakerland fans are great and the entire Laker organization and staff have been unfailingly supportive.
Fans from all over the world have also shown me a lot of gratitude and patience over the years, which is incredible. Ever since I was young and spent hours shooting baskets like this, day after day, I had never sought or dreamed that these people would give me such support and love. What motivation and encouragement this is. I am forever grateful to you.
My girlfriend Brittany never tires of being there for me through my most difficult times. Every time I got into a battle with my own celestial being, it drove him crazy with genuine worry. I know.
Without her love, it would all be unbearable.
There's a good chance I'm not going to play basketball anymore, which is very bittersweet. I already miss competing deeply, but I'm equally excited to start learning other things. This open letter is addressed to all those who care about my career. At the heart of this letter, I want to say this to the kids everywhere who are still unsure of their future or how they will take control of their lives: When I think back on my career, I can’t help but think of the man who held his basketball and A little boy who went crazy over this. I can still recall that image clearly, and it is at the heart of my entire life story.
Finally, Lola, Bella and Matteo, you are the center of my universe. My eyes and energy are now solely on you, moving forward with you, and I can't think of anything more exciting than this.
Reference for compiling this article:Life After Basketball