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have expected. I’ve always had a quiet confidence in myself and my abilities as a basketball player. I’m also realistic enough, analytical enough, to know that confidence alone wasn’t what got and kept me here in the NBA. I also know that I’ve been blessed beyond all measure—the success of Tatum’s procedure is just one small example of that. I’ve been provided with opportunities and the ability to recognize them when they present themselves, and the skills and faith to seize them.
    I don’t know that I go out of my way to be a nice guy, it’s just a part of who I am because of how I was raised and because of all the reinforcement I’ve gotten for sticking with some of the fundamental truths about how to live my life—whether that’s been the Golden Rule of doing unto others as I would want them to do unto me or understanding the fundamental truths of how the triangle offense should be run. It took me some time, but I’ve come to understand that the two selves—the basketball player and the man, husband, father, friend, and brother—that I sometimes felt I had to keep separate actually work together as a team. Who I am, what I do, and how I conduct myself are all bound together in ways that I’ve only lately begun to understand. Just as there’s no sound reason that a guy who is six feet one and not the fleetest of foot can play in this league and contribute to the degree that I have, there’s no logical reason that now, at the age of thirty-four, I should be enjoying one of my best seasons ever as a professional. I should be on the downside of my career, but as I see it, things have never looked brighter, my future never more certain, my love for my family never more a source of contentment and pleasure. In no way am I ready to hang it up, but this seems like a good point at which to stop and take stock of where I’ve been and how I got here. I love playing this game, I love my family and the life I’m privileged to lead. In my mind, my NBA career is only going to lead me to halftime in my life. What’s to follow will likely be as fulfilling and rewarding, mainly because of what I’ve learned about myself and the world during this thrilling ride.

CHAPTER TWO
    Practicing the Fundamentals:
    Building a Solid Foundation

    Go to any court, gymnasium, or college or professional arena, and you’re likely to hear shouted from the bench or by one of the players, “Box out.” Even though we’re often encouraged to think outside the box, sometimes tried-and-true conventional wisdom serves better than innovation. As in most sports, in basketball you can only score when you have the ball in your hands. On a good night, a team will score on about 50 percent of its possessions. When you factor in that when you have the ball, the other team can’t score, you can better understand why each possession matters so much. That’s where boxing out comes into play. When a shot is in the air, the ball isn’t in the possession of either team. It is literally up for grabs. The cliché states that possession is nine-tenths of the law, but in basketball it is everything. The more possessions you have in a game, the greater the number of opportunities you have to score. A simple truth that we sometimes forget.
    That’s why you hear coaches stressing that players must box out when the ball is in the air following a shot. By putting yourself in good position to rebound the ball, and by preventing your opponent from getting access to the ball, you’re increasing the likelihood that you will either retain or take possession of the “rock.” Many games turn on those transitional moments when the ball is not in the hands of a player from either team. When you understand that basic truth about possessions, when you really have a firm understanding of that important fundamental, you see things from a slightly different perspective. While statistics such as points scored, rebounds corralled, assists made, and turnovers