It’s our ability to weather life’s setbacks that reveals our true nature, isn’t that right? This is especially true for Jayson Tatum, but here’s the catch: the Boston Celtics player had to lose a championship game to finally realize that he should cherish every second of his incredible NBA journey and not take any of the good points for granted.
It may be argued that he has at last granted himself permission to see life, and the game in particular, as a journey rather than a goal. We deal ourselves cards and play them.
These subjects are hefty for a Sunday and most definitely not typical of a happy Sunday afternoon. In a hidden two-story suite at Encore Boston Harbor, Tatum and I are seated next to each other. He’s finished his shot, the sun is sinking, and he’s preparing to dig into some Chinese cuisine from Red 8. Tatum isn’t hurrying, however. Instead, his lanky 6-foot-8-inch physique is slouched and overflowing out of a luxurious recliner while he answers each of my inquiries in a calm and deliberate manner.
To be honest, it’s difficult to believe he’s just 24. He seems older, but only because of his stoicism—if height and age were the same, he would easily be approaching a century. He seems to be watching everything but doesn’t say anything. He looks at me sparingly as he talks, carefully averting his gaze. He would be a great poker player, in my opinion.
I offer to play two truths and a lie, but he seems tired, so I change the rules, flip a different card, and create a new game that he can easily play. I ask him to complete the sentence. What is time?
Time is crucial, I would write if I were filling this out for him (blindly, of course, as I don’t even know him). Given that I am unable to actively snoop about in his mind, I would have assumed that he has developed an enormous collection of uncommon designer watches in which he takes great pride. However, my prediction would have been off.
He says, “Time is precious.”
I give him a sidelong glance. Proceed now.
He obliges. “Because it flies by,” he explains. “I remember being a little kid who could only think about the NBA and how far out of reach it seemed. I used to daydream about it. When I was in school, I would think, Can’t this hurry up? And it seems like I blinked and six years are gone; I’m already going into my sixth NBA season. Where is the time going? I vividly remember being in high school, getting drafted, playing the first game of my NBA career, and now, I’ve played five seasons.”
He complies. “Because it goes by so quickly,” he says. When I was younger, all I could think about was how far out of reach the NBA appeared. I used to imagine it in my dreams. Can’t this speed up, I used to think in school. Six years have passed in the blink of an eye, and I’m about to begin my sixth NBA season. Where does the time go? I still clearly recall my high school years, my NBA career’s first game after being picked, and my five seasons of playing.
“It was the worst feeling ever — an empty feeling — and I don’t want to feel that way again,” he declares. “It was as low as I’ve ever felt in my life. I felt as if I let everybody that was dependent on me down. I was mentally and physically exhausted. I didn’t have anything left in me. It’s tough to think about, even now, because you realize how close you were to accomplishing the opportunity of a lifetime; you were so close, but not close enough, and that can be discouraging, like, This shit is too hard.
And it stings for a couple of days, honestly. I didn’t leave the house. I didn’t want to talk to anybody. I was trying to cancel the outside world, regardless of what people were saying; I tried to get away from basketball, in a sense. But I spent time with my son, my family, the people that genuinely care about me, and I started to get my groove back.”
“My mindset is a little different now,” he admits. “I remember what it felt like, getting to the championship and losing. And everything I’ve done in training for the coming season is to not have that feeling again. My mindset now is what do I need to do to win a championship. Now, there’s no specific number I need to average, no specific number of rebounds. I just want to win. If you win, if your team has all the success, all the individual things will come along with that. If we win a championship, that means I’m playing at the highest level.”
So now, in his sixth season, he’s ready to go, fight, and — most importantly — win. “I will do literally whatever it takes to never feel that way again,” he vows. “And I’m coming in in great shape. I made sure to take the off-season to get healthy, so that I could perform at my highest level, so that I could dominate, be the best, go out there every night and be able to say, ‘I’m the best player in the world.’”
Tatum may not have received the happy ending he had hoped for in his previous season, but remember, he is just 24. 24 fucking hours. And at this advanced age, Tatum has eclipsed his idol and guru, Kobe Bryant, who he became close to before to Bryant’s death in 2020, to become the youngest player in history to score 20 points or more in four consecutive playoff games. Along with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, he is one of the few rookies in NBA history to score 20 or more points in ten straight games during their first playoff run.
He admits now, “In the past, I wanted to rush things, but now, I’m trying to enjoy these moments. When you’re a kid, you want to grow up so fast. You want to be an adult. And now that I am an adult, I want to relax; I want to enjoy this.”