He drew me into his comforting embrace. "How are you feeling, James?" he asked, his voice as deep and joyous as ever. He peppered me with questions about my condition and prognosis. Once again, his own life took a backseat to mine. I thought of the many road trips we'd taken. We boys would sit in the car, hands in our laps, never getting out of line. Discipline was everything. If I threw a tantrum during a match, I'd have to answer to Dad on the drive home. "You want to beat that kid?" he'd say. "Then work harder than him—work harder than anybody." It became almost a ritual between us. I'd finish a match and he'd ask, "Are you gonna work harder than the other guy?"

他把我拉进他温暖的怀抱中，“詹姆斯，感觉怎么样？”他问到，他的声音像往常一样低沉而快乐。他问了我好多健康方面的问题。再一次，他自己的生活给了我支持。我回想起我们在一起的很多次旅行。我们这些孩子坐在车里，拄着膝盖，老实地呆着，非常的听话。如果我在比赛中发脾气了，我得好好地和父亲解释。“你想打败那个家伙吗？”他说，“那就要干得比他好，干得比所有人都好”。这几乎成了我们之间一个固定的仪式。在我完成比赛的时候，他问“你比别人都努力了吗？”