[In 1991, after losing to the Los Angeles Lakers in the playoffs, my wife, kids, and I returned to Spokane to enjoy the sumr.
We had a good season and perford well in the playoffs, but we just couldn’t climb over the mountain that was the Los Angeles Lakers.
Magic Johnson is the greatest Point Guard, and the gap between us wasn’t just about height.
I hadn’t prepared myself to step into the offseason yet because if we could have gotten past the Lakers, I would’ve faced Ah Gan in the semifinals.
Sadly, I let myself down once again. It made upset, feeling that my basketball career still had a long way to go before I could call it complete.
But in the end, I accepted the early elimination and decided to adjust my training plan during the offseason, making so changes to both my body and technique to recover from this loss.
Coach Sloan made understand that at this stage of my career, recovery is more important than training every single day.
After all, not everyone is Ah Gan. His training load has been the sa for over ten years, like a machine that only gets smoother with use.
The 1991 season once again belonged to him and the Portland Trail Blazers. I watched every ga and witnessed their fifth championship in Portland.
In July, Ah Gan and I went back to Spokane together to take part in the annual celebration of "Gan Guoyang Day" held there.
The townsfolk erected a new statue for him. Although it didn’t look much like him, Ah Gan still smiled, accepted it, and attended the unveiling ceremony.
I joined Ah Gan for one last basketball sumr league in Spokane, which caused a sensation locally. Ah Gan is now a true basketball superhero.
But after the league ended, Sloan called and told not to participate in such amateur gas in the sumr anymore, to avoid injury.
I also ended my softball career, retiring from Jack and Dan’s softball team, and fully committed myself to basketball training and physical recovery.
Ah Gan is a very busy man. After the sumr league, he quickly left to attend countless business and social events.
I envied Ah Gan’s accomplishnts on the court and his astonishing basketball skills, but I didn’t envy his lifestyle.
I spent most of my free ti during the sumr at the lake with Nada and the kids.
I’m not soone who loves sunbathing. I prefer to spend my free ti doing physical labor—chopping wood, splitting logs, and stacking firewood.
If the weather permitted, I would go water skiing; if it got windy, I’d mountain bike, jog, or try windsurfing.
Following , the kids quickly learned all these sports—they’re naturally athletic.
At the sa ti, to maintain my basic basketball skills, I’d lift weights and shoot pinecones into trash cans.
I didn’t need any fancy equipnt or devices—just simple activities to keep my touch.
Exploration, play, creative activities, tracking wild animals in the forest, telling scary bedti stories by the campfire, and so on.
These carefree tis created cherished mories of our family life. Apart from werewolves and Bigfoot, the kids’ favorite stories were the legendary tales of Ah Gan during his college days.
My eldest son Houston’s room was covered with Ah Gan posters, each one autographed by Ah Gan himself.
Later, he said his admiration for Ah Gan ca from those fascinating legendary stories—the guy really is a legend.
After the kids fell asleep, Nada and I would sit by the campfire, chatting while watching the stars and the northern lights overtake the daylight.
When we weren’t at the lake, we’d stay at ho or visit my parents. During that ti, I was still increntally renovating my house. I didn’t want to spend too much money all at once—not my style. I’d hunt for cheap but suitable furniture and materials to gradually bring ho.
On one uneventful day, as I was considering going to the second-hand market to buy so decent sofa cushions and table pads, the phone rang.
It rang several tis, but I had no intention of picking it up. I don’t like people calling —every phone call always seems to bring so kind of trouble.
The phone wouldn’t stop ringing, as if it was determined not to give up. So I had no choice but to answer it.
"John, this is Rod Thorn from the NBA office."
Damn, Thorn. This couldn’t be good—every ti he called, it was to inform about fines.
A few years ago, I had called his office to discuss my first-ever technical foul.
I told him, "Yes, I did swear at the ref, but I was just using it as an adverb."
He laughed—it was the first ti he’d ever heard that kind of explanation.
If he had known Ah Gan earlier, he would’ve heard it plenty by now.
Every ti Ah Gan swore, he claid it was just an interjection or an adverb, purely to express emotion, not ant as an insult.
The good news was, Thorn accepted my explanation and waived my fine.
That practically saved my life—I didn’t want to get fined.
After that, I beca extra careful not to use "adverbs" so lightly again.
This ti, Thorn wasn’t calling about a fine. Instead, he brought good news.
"Congratulations, John. You’ve been selected as a representative player for the 1992 Barcelona Olympics U.S. national team."
I was so excited that I didn’t know what to say at first. After a pause, I heard, "Are you interested?"
All I could do was stamr, "You... you’re serious?"
"Why else would I be calling? Just to joke with you?"
I never expected to really make it onto the Olympic roster.
During the regular season, Ah Gan had ntioned it to , saying that if I were on the Olympic team’s list, he would make sure I got to play in the Olympics.
User Comments
0 comments from readers