At the end of my first season in the NBA, we had made it to the?Semifinals, up against Utah. But in the deciding fifth game, I let fly?four airballs, and we lost our chance at the title. Those shots let me?know what I needed to work on the most: my strength. That’s all the?airballs did for me.

In that game, nerves weren’t the problem. I just wasn’t strong?enough to get the ball there. My legs were spaghetti; they couldn’t?handle that long of a season. How did I respond to that? By getting?on an intense weight-training program. By the start of the next?season, my legs and arms were stronger and I was ready to get it on.

In the immediate aftermath, I was never concerned by how the?franchise or fans would react. I knew I would put in the work,?which is what I did. In fact, as soon as we landed I went to the?Pacific Palisades high school gym and shot all night long. I went?back the next day and worked. And I worked and worked and?worked. In my mind, it was never a matter of, “Oh, no, I’ll never get?another shot at this.” I felt that my destiny was already written. I?felt—I knew—that my future was undeniable and no one, not a?person or a play, could derail it.