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Ray Allen，其实你不孤独，那种经历和感觉。我们也懂。
数据分析师何尝不是如此？
大多数时间，你会是孤独的。
你还是需要努力，努力，努力的去「学习新的东西」，「拓展自己的眼界」，「在别人的质疑中提出自己的见解」，等等，等等。
刻苦努力，年轻人。大部分人都不会了解真实的你。但他们会了解你的努力。
Dear 13-year-old Ray,
When you get off the school bus tomorrow, you’re going to be in a whole new world. This is nothing new. Every time your father gets stationed at a new Air Force base, you have to say goodbye to your friends and start a new life. It’s the same routine once every three years or so. New school, new culture, new faces.
Northern California. Then Germany. Then Oklahoma. Then England. Then Southern California.
And now, Dalzell, South Carolina.
You’re used to being the kid that nobody knows. The majority of your existence has been about trying to find new friends, trying to show people that you’re a good person and that you mean no harm. You’re used to being an outsider.
You’ve gotten pretty good at it.
This time is different though. It’s the middle of the school year. Everybody already knows one another. You’re at a critical age, and kids are just.…
Kids are just mean.
You’ve grown up in a military household your whole life. Until now, your friends were all from military families. You walked around the neighborhood with your I.D. card hanging around your neck like a dog tag in case some unfamiliar MPs rolled by. You spent your formative elementary school years in Britain. So you don’t even realize it, but to some people, you speak very proper.
When you step off that school bus in South Carolina tomorrow and open your mouth, those kids are going to look at you like you’re an alien.
“You talk like a white boy,” they’ll say.
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You’ll look around the school and see groups of kids all paired off, and you’ll feel like you don’t have a place.
You’ll think to yourself, I don’t understand. Who am I supposed to be?
I’m going to be 100% honest with you. I wish I could tell you that it will get easier, and that you’re going to blend in, and that it’s going to be alright. But you’re not going to fit in with the white kids, or the black kids … or the nerds … or even the jocks.
“You talk like a white boy,” they’ll say.
You’ll be the enemy to a lot of people simply because you’re not from around there.
This will be both the toughest and the best thing that will ever happen to you.
What I want you to do is this: Go to the basketball court. Stay at the basketball court. You can build your entire existence there.
The world is much bigger than Dalzell, South Carolina. If you stick to the plan, you’ll see. Remember that when when you’re lying in bed on Saturday and Sunday mornings and you hear the engine of your father’s old Trans-Van start up outside.
You know that sound. It’s not pretty.
All you’ll want to do is sleep, but grab your sneakers and run down the stairs because he will leave you. You have exactly two minutes before the heat kicks on in the van and he’s backing out of the driveway. He’s on military time, and if you don’t get to the Air Force base court by 0900 on the dot to put your name at the top of the sign-up sheet, you’re going to have to wait around all day to get a run in.
You’ll learn a lot on that court. As a 13-year-old kid playing against grown men, you’ll learn to play in transition out of necessity. You’ll play so fast that all the airmen will start calling you “Showtime” when you walk into the gym.
In between games, when you’re on the sidelines, I want you to listen very carefully to all the stories these guys tell.
You’re going to hear a lot of, “Man, I coulda …” on these courts.
Man, I wish I could go back in time.
I’d have gone D-I.
Booze got the best of me.
Man, I coulda.…
Man, I shoulda.…
I wish I could go back, young fella.…
Don’t ever put yourself in the position to wish you could hop in a time machine, Ray. You need to stay focused, because things will only become more complicated as you have more success on the court.
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When you start getting attention from colleges, some of your own teammates will say things like, “UConn? You’ll sit on the bench for four years.”
Just because you don’t drink, they’ll say, “Man, you’re gonna be an alcoholic once you get to college. You won’t be ready. All they do is drink there.”
A lot of people don’t want to see you succeed. Don’t get into fistfights with these kids. Trust me, it will accomplish nothing.
Instead, remember exactly who said those things.
Remember how they said it.
Remember their faces.
Keep these voices inside your head and use them as fuel every single day when you wake up.
And the voices telling you you’re the man? Those are the voices to keep out. When you start getting some national attention in high school, you’ll hear things like, “Ray’s jumpshot is God-given.”
Listen: God doesn’t care whether you make your next jump shot.
God will give you a lot of things in life, but he’s not going to give you your jump shot. Only hard work will do that.
Don’t be so naive as to think you’re ready for college ball.
Young fella, you’re not ready.
In high school, you might think you understand what it takes to be a great basketball player, but you will truly have no idea. When you get to UConn, your coach will show you what hard work really is.
His name is Jim Calhoun. Don’t get on this man’s shit list.
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When you walk into the gym for that first practice, get ready for hell on wheels. You’re going to be all excited to put on your Huskies gear and start shooting around. But then Coach Calhoun is going to flip the script.
“Freshmen!” he’ll say. “You think you deserve to wear this uniform? You don’t deserve the privilege. Not yet.”
Then the assistant coaches will start handing out these plain grey shorts and T-shirts to all the freshmen.
“I want to see some sweat,” Coach will say.
Up until that very moment, you’ll think basketball is all about going out and putting up some jump shots and showing your skill.
When you get put through Coach Calhoun’s first practice you’ll realize, Oh, this game is a sonofabitch.
You will be put through the hardest workout of your life. You’ll be gasping for air, hunched over. But the thing is, the gym in Storrs is air conditioned. Your body is used to playing in the sweatbox gyms in South Carolina, where there’s no air conditioning.
At the end of the practice, coach Calhoun is going to line everybody up and walk down the line, looking at every player.
When he gets to you, he’ll look down at your shirt. There will be a single bead of sweat trickling down your Adam’s apple.
He’ll look at you. Then he’ll look at the little bead of sweat. Then he’ll look back at you.
“That’s it? I guess we didn’t work you hard enough, Allen.”
The next practice is going to be even tougher.
This man is going to damn near break you, but he’s going to make you a much better player and person. This will be your introduction to what it really takes to be great.
A few days later, you’re going to have one of the most memorable moments of your life. You’re going to wake up at 5:30 a.m. and go to the weight room to get your workout in, and then you’ll come back to the dorm and shower before class.
You’ll put on a shirt and tie, throw your backpack over your shoulder and walk across campus to your first class of the day.
It’s early, so it’s still quiet. The leaves are crunching under your feet. You’re sore, but your clothes are on point. You got your work in. You’re prepared. You have a purpose.
I don’t know what it is about this moment in particular, but as you’re walking, you’ll think, Wow. I’m a college student. No matter what happens at the end of this tunnel, I’m going to make my family proud.
When you get to your public-speaking class and sit down, this girl will turn to you and say, “Hey, why are you so dressed up?”
You’ll say, “Because I can.”
In that moment, it will feel like you have conquered the world.
I could end this letter right here, and you would still probably be excited about what you are going to accomplish in life. But you still have an 18-year NBA career ahead of you.
How do I sum up nearly two decades in the NBA? What do you really need to know? What’s truly important?
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You’ll get to play against your heroes: Michael Jordan and Clyde Drexler.
You’ll play alongside Hall of Famers: Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, LeBron James, Dwyane Wade.
Sometimes you’ll be afraid.
Sometimes you’ll think you’re out of your league.
But you’ll keep showing up every day, putting in the work.
You’ll put up more than 26,000 shots in your career. Almost six out of 10 won’t even go in. I told you this game was a sonofabitch.
Don’t worry, though. A successful man is built of 1,000 failures. Or in your case, 14,000 misses.
You’ll win a championship in Boston.
You’ll win another in Miami.
The personalities on those two teams will be different, but both teams will have the same thing in common: habits.
Boring old habits.
I know you want me to let you in on some big secret to success in the NBA.
The secret is there is no secret.
It’s just boring old habits.
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In every locker room you’ll ever be in, everybody will say all the right things. Everybody says they’re willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to win a title. But this game isn’t a movie. It’s not about being the man in the fourth quarter. It’s not about talk. It’s getting in your work every single day, when nobody is watching.
Listen: God doesn’t care whether you make your next jump shot.
Kevin Garnett, Paul Pierce, LeBron James, Dwyane Wade. The men who you are going to win championships with are all going to be very different people. What makes them champions is the boring old habits that nobody sees. They compete to see who can be the first to get to the gym and the last to leave.
Your peers who think this is a cliché, or who think this doesn’t apply to them because they have God-given talent, will play their whole careers without winning an NBA title.
But I want you to understand something deeper. The championships are not the point.
Yes, there will be a sense of validation and vindication when you raise the trophy above your head, remembering everyone who ever said you wouldn’t amount to anything.
Four-year benchwarmer.
Alcoholic.
White boy.
But if I’m being real with you, what you’ll realize after you win the first title is that the thrill is fleeting. The vindication is fleeting. If you only chase that high, you’re going to end up very depressed.
The championships are almost secondary to the feeling you’ll get from waking up every morning and putting in the work. The championships are like when you were sitting in class at UConn with your shirt and tie on. They’re just the culmination.
Your winding path to those moments, just like your walk across campus on that quiet fall morning in Connecticut, is where you will find happiness.
I really mean it from the bottom of my heart: Life is about the journey, not the destination. And that journey will change you as a person.
Let me tell you one final story that may help you understand what I mean.
It’s the early morning hours of June 21, 2013. You’re 38 years old, and just a few hours ago you won Game 7 of the NBA Finals with the Miami Heat.
You are an NBA champion for the second time.
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](https://img.haomeiwen.com/i782782/819ba53beb8be10e.jpg?imageMogr2/auto-orient/strip%7CimageView2/2/w/1240)You lay down in bed at about five in the morning, but you just can’t sleep. Finally, around seven o’clock, you give up on sleep and creep downstairs. All your friends and family have come over to your house to celebrate — they’re all passed out on couches, sound asleep. You tiptoe around them on the way to the kitchen to make some breakfast. The sun is coming up, the house is quiet. You have achieved exactly what you set out to do. But you’re still restless.
So why do you feel this way? Isn’t this what you worked so hard for?
Around 7:30, you get into your car and go for a drive.
You park your car in front of a white office building. They’re just opening up.
When you walk in the door, the receptionist looks at you and says, “Ray? What … what are you doing here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.”
“But … you just won the title.”
“Yeah, I just wanted to get out of the house.”
“But … it’s eight in the morning. And you just won the title.”
“Well, I still got some work to be done on this tooth. Is he in?”
Your dentist walks out of his office.
“Ray? What are you … what?”
“Couldn’t sleep.”
This is what success looks like for you. You’re the kind of guy who goes to the dentist the morning after winning an NBA title.
I know, man.
I know.
But in order to achieve your dreams, you will become a different kind of person. You’ll become a bit obsessive about your routine. This will come at a heavy cost to some of your friends and family.
Most nights, you won’t go out. Your friends will ask why. You won’t drink alcohol, ever. People will look at you funny. When you get to the NBA, you won’t always play cards with the boys. Some people will assume you’re not being a good teammate. You’ll even have to put your family on the back-burner for your job.
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Most of the time, you will be alone.
That won’t make you the most popular person. Some people simply won’t understand. Is the cost worth it?
Only you can answer that.
Who am I supposed to be?
Tomorrow when you get off that school bus in South Carolina, you’ll have to choose.
Every day for the rest of your life, you’ll have to choose.
Do you want to fit in, or do you want to embark on the lonely pursuit of greatness?
I write this to you today as a 41-year-old man who is retiring from the game. I write to you as a man who is completely at peace with himself.
The hell you experience when you get off that bus will be temporary. Basketball will take you far away from that school yard. You will become far more than just a basketball player. You’ll get to act in movies. You’ll travel the world. You will become a husband, and the father of five amazing children.
Now, the most important question in your life isn’t, “Who am I supposed to be?” or even, “What do I have to do to win another championship?”
It’s, “Daddy, guess what happened in math class today?”
That’s the reward that awaits you at the end of your journey.
Go to the court. Stay at the court.
Get your work in, young fella.
Most people will never really get to know the real you. But they’ll know your work.
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北京时间11月1日，雷-阿伦在球星看台上发表长文，宣布自己将退役，以下是该文翻译：
亲爱的13岁的雷，
当你明天走下校车，你就将进入一个全新的世界。这不稀奇。每次你的父亲被定岗到一个新的空军基地，你就得和你的朋友们告别，开始一段新生活。大概每三年就会经历一次。新学校、新文化、新面孔。
先是北加利福尼亚。然后是德国。然后是奥克拉荷马。再是英格兰。再是南加利福尼亚。
而现在，是加州的达尔泽尔。
你已经习惯了做一个不为人熟知的孩子。你主要的生活方式就是去寻找你的新朋友，试着向人们展示你是个好人，你没有恶意。你已经习惯了做一个外乡人。
你做得还不错。
这次有些不一样。这次是在学期的半途中。每个人都已经认识了彼此。你正处在敏感的年纪，孩子们比较...
孩子们比较刻薄...
你一直以军事化的教育成长。直到现在，你的朋友全是来自军人家庭。你把你的身份证挂着脖子上，就像个狗牌，就是为了可能会遇上一些不熟悉的宪兵检查身份。你的小学在英国度过，所以你可能没有意识到，你的语言非常得体。
当年明天走下南加州的校车并且开口说话，你的伙伴们会把你看作是个外星人。
“你说话像个白人。”他们会这样说。
你看着周围的孩子们都成双成对，你觉得自己没有地方可待。
你会想：“我不理解，我应该是谁？”
我将对你百分百诚实。我多希望我能告诉你，事情会变得容易，你会慢慢地融入当地，所有事都会没问题。
但你不会和白人小孩或者黑人小孩或者傻孩子或者同学们相处地太融洽。
你会被相当一部分人视作敌对，仅仅因为你是外乡人。
这会是在你身上发生的最糟糕也是最棒的经历。
我想要你做的是这个：去到球场上。待在球场上。你能在那里打造你的生活方式。
世界比达尔泽尔大很多，如果你坚持你的计划，你会看到的。请在听到你父亲的老式货车发动之后的周末清晨记得这些。
你了解那个声音的，听起来可不好受。
你想做的就是继续睡觉，但是请抓起你的篮球鞋跑下楼去，因为他马上要走了。你有两分钟上他的车。要是你没能跟着他在九点之前将你的名字写在空军基地的登记簿上，你就得一天都守在大门口等着机会溜进去。
你会在球场上学到很多。作为一个13岁的孩子和大人们较量，你会不得不学到不停的移动。你会打得如此的快速，以致于空军们看见你走进球馆就会冲你喊：“Showtime！”
在休息的时候，站在场边，我希望你能认真听他们说的故事。
你会听到很多句“兄弟，我本可以...”
“兄弟，我多希望能回到过去。
我本可以当上教官。
然而酗酒害了我。
兄弟，我本可以...
我本可以...
我多希望能回到过去，年轻人...”
永远不要把你置于一个希望回到过去的位置上，雷。你要保持专注，因为随着你在球场上越来越成功，事情就只会变得越来越复杂。
当你在大学里得到越来越多的关注时，你的一些队友会嘲讽你说：“康涅狄格大学？你会在那儿坐四年的板凳！”
就因为你不喝酒，他们也会说：“兄弟，你上了大学一定会成一个酒鬼的。你这样不准备好，上了大学可是全是喝酒。”
很多人不想看到你成功。不要理会这些年轻人。相信我，和他们纠缠什么也成就不了。
相反的，请记住他们说的话。
记住他们是怎么说的这些话。
记住他们的样子。
将这些声音存在脑海里，将它们用作你每天起床的动力。
但那些夸赞你的声音呢？请把他们忘记。当你在高中时开始获得全国性关注的时候，会有人说你的跳投是“上帝赐予的”。
听着：上帝才不在乎你的跳投进还是不进。
上帝会给你很长的生命，但他才不会给你跳投的能力，那只有不断地努力训练才能做到。
不要想得如此幼稚，认为你已经为大学篮球做好了准备。
年轻人，你并没有准备好。
在高中，你也许会认为你已经明白该怎样成为一名伟大的篮球运动员，但你其实什么都不知道。当你到了康涅狄格，你的教练会让你明白什么才是刻苦。
他的名字是吉米-卡洪。你可以不要上了这家伙的黑名单。
当你第一次走进训练馆之时，做好下地狱的准备。你会兴奋地穿上康涅狄格的哈士奇球服，开始展示你的跳投，但是教练卡洪会打断你的计划。
“菜鸟们！”他会说：“你们认为你们配得上身上的球衣吗？你们配不上这份荣耀。至少目前配不上。”
然后助理教练就会给新人们分发这些灰色的T恤和短裤。
“我想看到些汗水！”教练说。
直到那之前，你都认为篮球不过是上场，展现你的跳投和技巧。
当你结束第一次在卡洪教练手下的训练时，你会想：篮球真是王八蛋。
你会经历你人生最艰难的训练。你会弯腰驼背地渴望呼吸。但事实是，在Storrs校区的那所球馆是有空调系统的。你的身体已经习惯了在南加州的炎热球馆，那儿可没有空调这玩意儿。
在训练的结束，教练卡洪会让所有人站成一排，走一遍，看着每一个球员。
他会看着你，他会看着你细小的汗珠，又会看回你。
“就这样？嗯？嗯...我猜你是练得不够啊，阿伦。”
而下一次训练会更加的艰难。
这个家伙会接近将你摧毁，但也是他，会让你成为一个更好的球员和更好的人。他会是你了解如何成为伟大的启蒙导师。
几天之后，你将会经历你人生中最难忘的一刻。你将在早上5点半醒来，去到健身房训练，然后你回到宿舍洗澡，赶着去上课。
你会穿上衬衫、打上领带，把你的背包甩在肩上穿过校园去上你的第一堂课。
那天还如此早，校园里还很安静。树叶在你脚下窸窣作响。你的身体很酸痛，但你的衣服是整齐的。你有好好的训练，你有备而来，你有自己的目标。
我不知道这一瞬间具体意味着什么，但你走着的时候，你会想：“哇，我是个大学生了，不论这段路程的终结是怎样的，我一定会让我的家人感到自豪。”
当你到达了公共演讲课上坐下之后，这个女孩会转过来问你：“嘿，你为什么穿得这么正式啊？”
你会说：“因为我可以。”
在那一瞬间，你会觉得你征服了全世界。
我可以只写到这里，你仍会对你生命中将要达成什么而感到兴奋。但前方还有18年的NBA生涯等着你。
我该如何总结在NBA里的这18年？你真正需要知道的是什么？什么才是真正重要的？
你会和你心目中的英雄们面对面：迈克尔-乔丹和克莱德-德雷克斯勒。
你会和一些名人堂级别的球员并肩作战：凯文-加内特、保罗-皮尔斯、勒布朗-詹姆斯和德维恩-韦德。
有时候，你会害怕。
有时候，你会觉得自己已经置身于联盟之外。
但你还是会在每一场比赛中亮相，投入比赛。
你在职业生涯中会出手26000多次的投篮，而且其中60%的投篮不会命中，我跟你说过，篮球就是“王八蛋”。
即使如此，你也不要担心。一个成功的男人是经历过1000次失败的洗礼的。换句话讲，你会投失14000个投篮。
你会在波士顿赢得一个总冠军。
你会在迈阿密赢得另外一个。
这两支球队的个性是截然不同的，但是两支球队都会有一些共同点：各种各样的习惯。
枯燥且传统的习惯。
我知道，你想让我告诉你一些能在NBA取得成功的重要的秘诀。
这个秘诀就是——没有秘诀。
就是枯燥且传统的习惯而已。
在你进入过的每一个更衣室中，每个人会讲出所有正确的东西。每个人都会讲，他们愿意为赢得总冠军而牺牲一切。但是比赛不是电影，不是你在四节的比赛中成为什么样的人物，不是谈论的话题。而是在没有人瞩目的时候，每天所投入的训练。
听着：上帝才不在乎你的跳投进还是不进。
凯文-加内特、保罗-皮尔斯、勒布朗-詹姆斯、德维恩-韦德。这些和你并肩赢得总冠军的人物都是不同凡响的。让他们赢得总冠军的东西正是别人所看不到的枯燥且传统的习惯。他们会相互竞争：看谁会第一个抵达体育馆、谁会最后一个离开。
那些凡是认为这很是陈词滥调的、或者这不适用于他们的人是因为他们拥有上帝赐予的天赋，但这会使得他们整个职业生涯都没能赢得总冠军。
但是我想让你理解得更深刻一些，总冠军不是重点。
是的，当你把总冠军奖杯高高举在头顶上时，你会记得所有曾经说过你不会有出息的人，这是一种说服和证明。
4年的板凳球员。
酒鬼。
白人男孩。
但是，我得坦诚地告诉你，你会在赢得第一个总冠军之后意识到，刺激和证明都是暂时的。如果你不满足于此，那你将会以莫大的失望收尾。
总冠军只会是你每天早上醒来所感受到和投入努力去得到的次要的东西。总冠军就像，你穿着衬衫、打好领结坐在康涅狄格大学的课堂上一样，总冠军只是一个终点。
这些曲折的道路，就像你在秋日安静的早晨漫步在康大的校园中，那是你寻找到快乐的地方。
我真的发自内心深处地告诉你：生活就像一程旅行，在乎的不是终点。而这程旅行，则会改变你这个人。
让我来告诉你最后一个故事，来帮助你真正理解我所说的。
那是在2013年6月21日清晨早些时候，那时候的你38岁，就在几个小时前，你和迈阿密热火队赢下了NBA总决赛的第七场。
你是两届总冠军得主了。
凌晨5点多的时候，你躺在床上难以入眠。最终，在7点多的时候，你走出被窝，悄悄下楼。你所有的朋友和家人都来到了你的房子来祝贺——他们都躺在沙发上，听起来都睡着了，所以你踮着脚去厨房做早餐。太阳渐渐升起，屋子内静悄悄地一片。你已经完成了你想做的，但你还是坐立不安。
所以，你为什么会有这样的感觉呢？这难道不是你万分努力以求的东西吗？
大概在7点半的时候，你坐进车内，出去兜风。
你把车停在了一栋白色办公建筑前，它们似乎开着门。
当你走进门时，接待人员看着你说到，“雷？你...你在这儿干什么？”
“我睡不着。”
“但是...你刚赢下总冠军啊。”
“是的，我只想离开房子。”
“但是...现在是早上8点，而且你刚赢得总冠军。”
“好吧，我仍然想收拾一下我的牙齿，他在吗？”
你的牙医出去了，不在办公室。
“雷？你...你在...?”
“我睡不着。”
对你来说，这就是成功的样子。你就是那种在夺得总冠军后的清晨去看牙医的人。
我知道，伙计。
我知道。
但是为了实现你的梦想，你会成为一个不同的人。你会对自己的日常生活有些许迷恋。对于你的朋友和家人来说，这会成为巨大的负担。
大多数的夜晚，你不会出去。你的朋友会问你为什么。你永远不会去喝酒，人们会别样地看待你。当你进入NBA的时候，你不会经常和队友们去打牌，人们会觉得你不会成为一个好队友。为了工作，你甚至不得不把家人搁置在一边。
大多数时间，你会是孤独的。
这不会让你成为最受欢迎的人。有些人会想：“这么样值得吗？”
只有你能回答。
“我该是个什么人？”
明天当你踏下南加州的校车，你将要选择。
你生命中接下来的每一天，你也要选择。
你是想要显得合群，还是选择拥抱孤独并且追逐伟大？
我作为一个41岁的退役球员写这封信给你。我作为一个完全和自我平静相处的人写这封信给你。
你走下校车之后经历的困难都只是暂时的。篮球会带你远离校园。你不会只是一名篮球运动员。你会参演电影。你会环游世界。你会成为丈夫，会成为五个美好孩子的父亲。
如今，你生命中最重要的问题不是“我该成为什么样的人”或者“我该做什么去获得另一个总冠军？”
你面临的最重要的问题是：“爸爸，你猜今天在数学课上发生了什么？”
这就是你旅途尽头的奖赏。
去到球场。待在球场。
刻苦努力，年轻人。
大部分人都不会了解真实的你。但他们会了解你的努力。
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