Greatness isn’t just about records, trophies, or accolades—it’s about the legacy you leave behind and the lives you touch along the way. For years, I’ve heard the chants, seen the signs, and felt the love. People called me the “GOAT” long before I was ready to wear that crown. But if I’m being honest, I could’ve stepped away from it all years ago. I had the stats. I had the respect. I had nothing left to prove.
So why did I stay?
The answer is simple: the fans.
Every roar from the crowd, every message on social media, every kid who dreamed bigger because they saw me push past limits—I stayed for them. The arenas, the stadiums, the lights—all of it felt different knowing I was inspiring someone somewhere. It wasn’t about padding numbers or chasing one more trophy. It was about purpose.
There were mornings my body ached and nights when I wondered if I had one more season in me. But then I’d think of the young kid in the nosebleeds holding a homemade sign, or the older fan who told me I reminded them of why they fell in love with the game. That was the fuel. That was the reason.
Legacy isn’t built in a single moment. It’s carved out day after day, in front of millions, under pressure most will never know. And while the world may call me a GOAT, I see myself as someone who just never stopped showing up—for the game and for the people who believed in me.
Retirement will come, eventually. But I’ll leave on my own terms—knowing I gave everything not just to be great, but to give greatness back.
Until then, I’ll keep showing up. For the fans.
