I remember when I was 6 years old, we had a Black History Month play and I had to do the “I Have a Dream” Dr. King speech. I took the mic. I set up in front of everybody at the assembly—all the parents, all the students—and I delivered my speech with my chest out. I remember people coming up to me and my mom saying, “Oh, my God! That boy is a star. He gets it.”

When I think back to that, the practice started there—there was no camera. But all of those eyes in the little gym at Longstreet Elementary in Saginaw, Mich., that was my camera.

How much thought and effort are you giving your next act as a commentator?

When I was a rookie, one of our assistant coaches—Pete Myers—told me, “You owe it to the game to leave it in a better place than it was when you got it.” 

Even from a commentator’s standpoint, I still think about what Pete Myers said to me. When I’m thinking about my next career, that’s one of the things that I think about. This is still a way that I can continue to give to the game that’s given so much to me, the game that I’ve loved my entire life. 

But the only way you can give to that is if you’re great. You can’t be mediocre and give to it—no one wants mediocrity. No one’s following mediocrity.

This interview has been edited and condensed for clarity.