It so happened that we had a very good math teacher, who was a Communist. I remember having learned from him something that I never forget: the rule of nines. A simple point: you add up the numerals in a number, and if the original number was divisible by nine, then the sum of the figures also is. For instance, you take a number like 243. Two and four and three is nine. Therefore, 243 must be divisible by nine. Actually it is nine times 27. The rule is interesting because it’s so simple. What was really interesting to us ten-year-olds is that our math teacher proved it. The proof is not terribly difficult, but it was one of the first simple and not quite obvious mathematical proofs that I encountered.

The person who has inspired me my whole life is my Mom, because she taught me commitment. She sacrificed. We weren’t dirt poor, but we weren’t real rich or anything. I would always have what I needed, and when I looked in her closet, she would have two dresses. She taught me to be outside of yourself, to get outside of yourself, and to be committed to somebody. That’s the same thing that I try to teach. Throughout my life, my mom has been the person that I’ve always looked up to. She never went to high school. I remember, in an old Polish way, she said, “Mike, I went to the eighth grade twice because the teacher liked me.” She had great, self-effacing humor, and loved life. I really admire her.

He was a little guy who was a great football player at Georgia Tech, and he just was indefatigable. He just would never, ever say die. He absolutely proved to me that persistence was a very big part of making it in life. I never forgot that lesson.

I had really good teachers in high school. Probably I connected the best with an English teacher that I had my junior year in high school, Miss Sanchez, Jan Sanchez — God bless her. I’m still in touch with her, had lunch a couple of years ago, and we email each other and still exchange, recommend books to each other: “What novel are you reading lately? I read this book — you want to read this.” That kind of thing. But she really was the first time — I remember it was in her class that I read The Grapes of Wrath , which was the first time I had read a novel in English where I felt like I got it at the time. I had the, I felt really connected to the writer and to the story. I told her how much I loved that book and what it meant to me, and I think I saw part of my own family, and a lot of the Afghans in that story — people who would, they become uprooted and homeless and kind of drifting around trying to find a new home. So Jan Sanchez was probably my favorite teacher in high school, and although I never shared with her any of my writing, she came to one of my book readings as a surprise. I hadn’t seen her in over two decades, and she showed up, and she goes, “Remember me?” Obviously, I knew immediately who she was, and it made me so proud that she had read my book and she had loved it. I felt like I had done good. You know, when your teacher comes up to you, even if you are middle-aged and have your own family, having your teacher come up to you and pat you on the back is still a pretty special feeling.

No two weeks have been the same since I retired. Since this is my fifth year out of professional basketball, I'm at a point where I want to evaluate and make a decision whether I want more consistency and continuity, or I want things to continue in that mode. This is a transitional time.

Being respected, because I have to deal with this each and every day of my life. Each and every day of my life, when I go to a public place, someone might recognize me, or might not, that doesn’t make or break my day. The thing that I walk in expecting is that, whether they recognize me or not, I’m going to be treated with respect.