[I know that I can be a great player, but when I was young, I didn't know how to achieve that.
The only thing I knew was to work hard; hard work was the only thing I could control. So during training, I ran as fast as I could, persisting even when I was very tired.
But effort alone was far from enough on the offense; during my rookie years, there was a period when my shooting was terrible, and it took me some time to learn how to shoot and develop some skills to score points.
I could do many things like fast breaks, breakthroughs, opportunistic plays, offensive rebounds, but my fundamentals were too poor, which prevented me from contributing consistently; I felt frustrated.
The biggest change I felt upon entering the NBA was the pace of the game; everything here was fast, very fast.
Whether on the court or off, you had to make quick decisions, and for a time, I didn't know what I was doing.
When a player can't do what they want and hesitates a lot, it becomes very frustrating and depressing.
I now realize this was one of the root causes of many of my issues and one reason why I frequently lost my temper during my early years in Chicago.
I felt underestimated; I wasn't placed in the right position, the tactics didn't revolve around me, referees always had issues with me, and coaches didn't give me enough attention.
I was full of anger, unwillingness, and hidden restlessness, and I was disappointed with my showcase season.
Later, in a well-known game, this problem of mine got resolved; that punch hit me in a soul-shattering way, and to some extent, I was reborn.
It was a game in 2000 where the Bulls faced the Portland Trail Blazers at home.
During the 80s and 90s, Trail Blazers versus Bulls games were like the national derby of the NBA.
Ah Gan vs. Jordan, they had countless classics, their rivalry ran through the entire rise and glory of the NBA.
Later, Michael Jordan retired early, and Ah Gan stayed in the league, ending their legendary rivalry.
That night, as we stood on the floor of the United Center wearing Bulls jerseys, there was a sense of shame because we weren't worthy to stand here competing against the Trail Blazers and Ah Gan; the grandeur of Gan vs. Joe would never return.
Our performance this season was very poor; I couldn't find direction on the offense and could only focus most of my energy on defense.
I became one of the decent defenders in the league early on; when I stood on the defensive end, I felt calm and confident, unlike the panic on the offensive end.
So before the game, I thought to myself, I definitely can't face off against Ah Gan like Michael did, but at least I can cause some trouble on defense.
It turned out to be pure fantasy; Ah Gan often appeared at the small forward position this season, and I was eager to challenge him, trying to guard him one-on-one in several possessions.
In the end, he kept dismantling me with undefendable mid-range jump shots and rugged breakthroughs. His experience was extremely rich, and his details impeccable; it was very hard to interfere with his offensive choices; in the end, you could only leave everything to luck.
If it were me now, facing such a player, I would try my best and wouldn't blame myself after the game because this is the NBA, this is the world, it's very unfair, and you can only do your responsibilities.
But back then, I was young and obstinate; I tried everything to disturb Ah Gan using all sorts of means, including little tricks and trash talk inherited from the streets.
I wasn't unaware of Ah Gan's terrifying reputation; throughout the 80s and 90s, we grew up watching Ah Gan fight; he was Muhammad Ali in our hearts, Hulk Hogan on the NBA stage.
But for some reason, maybe I thought Ah Gan was already old and fought less.
Or perhaps I felt that a noble star like him wouldn't lay hands on a small role like me.
Or maybe I was full of thoughts of being Chicago's next Michael Jordan and wanted to defeat Ah Gan at that time.
There were many reasons, and in any case, I was fearless, spitting trash talk at Ah Gan, making small moves, even engaged in physical confrontation.
I thought I could restore my dignity through resorting to force; this is the initial intention of many court bullies when they act, to reclaim their face.
To me, it was commonplace; as mentioned before, I grew up in an environment of street fights and wasn't afraid of conflict, treating frequently due to fight injuries; everything turned around until I was completely mature.
At the time, I was only twenty years old, and Ah Gan gave me a vivid lesson.
When he decided to hit me, there were no signs, completely unlike the movies.
In movies, for a better visual, the two would verbally attack each other, show their teeth, hug, start fighting, with a fierce exchange until someone wins with a certain move.
Real combat isn't like that, and I was careless; I forgot Ah Gan was a cold-blooded killer, not the kind of guy who yells threats for a long time and then symbolically acts.
Most fights actually involve threats primarily, with the actual fight requiring a process.
Ah Gan didn't go through that process or perhaps had gone through too much; the souls beneath his fist were too many, he was too quick, and he didn't need to worry about his reputation.