🇨🇮 Yan Diomandé’s letter to his sister through @PlayersTribune:
“Dear Roxane,
Remember when someone bought me a fake United shirt, and I wrote “Ronaldo 7” on the back with a black Sharpie? We didn’t know what rich or poor was. We only knew happiness.
Remember the 25 people sleeping in just one house back in Abidjan? Mom wanted to watch her soap operas. Everyone wanted to watch movies. Remember how I’d always pretend I was asleep and then sneak to the TV room after midnight? I’d turn the TV way down low. Like, just two volume bars. I’d watch soccer in the dark and dream.
Remember when the grown-ups saw me playing soccer on the dirt and gave me the nickname “Roberto Carlos” because of how hard I kicked? And remember how I secretly got so mad about it, because CR7 was my idol?
Remember when I went to play so far from home? I was 9 years old. Inter Foot Sud Comoé, way out near the border with Ghana. Just a little boy all alone. I don’t know if I ever told you this story, but me and the other kids used to go to the village and steal potatoes because we were so hungry. We called it a “bank heist.” Two kids would distract the shop owner, and the other 18 would run off with two potatoes. They weren’t even good. But they tasted amazing. Hahahah. Even today, it’s my favorite thing to eat. Boiled potatoes with a little oil. It takes me back to those times.
Remember when I got my first real pair of cleats, and I slept with them? Growing up, I always played in those white plastic sandals. Even when I go back home now, I still play in them. It’s our tradition.
Remember when I’d come back home, and you’d tell my neighborhood friends: “Why’d you stop training? Yan’s not gonna buy you cars. You gotta keep working.” You were 10 years old, and you were already my agent.
Remember how we’d sit and dream about moving to France? How we’d go shopping, have our own apartment, and I’d be a rich soccer player, with cars and a big house, and you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. You were the one who always believed I could be the next Cristiano, when everyone else was laughing.
Remember when I moved to the United States for high school, at 15 years old, and I missed home so much? For months, I couldn’t understand what anyone was saying. They sat me next to a French boy, and he’d try to translate everything the teacher said. Remember when I called you and said: “You won’t believe it, the kids here argue with the teachers.” Back home, you know, we wouldn’t even dare blink at our elders.
Remember when I couldn’t believe the boys smoked after school? You used to say it felt like I was in an American TV show.
Remember when they took me for trials at Bournemouth? At Chelsea, Rangers, Olympiacos, Crystal Palace? Eze and Olise came up to me after a training session and said: “Hey, kid, you’re really good.”… but even then, they didn’t sign me.
Even the MLS B teams didn’t want me. I didn’t even know why. They never gave me a reason. The adults handled everything. They just kept taking me all over Europe, and everyone kept saying no.
My visa expired. My dream was over. They sent me back to Africa, and we cried together. You were the only one who never stopped believing. A few weeks later, I signed with Leganés, and we cried different tears.
That was back when I still had emotions. Now, I don’t feel anything. It’s like I’m not even human. Since you died, I’m just empty.”
Boy oh boy where do I even begin. LeBron... Happy 41st Birthday. Honey, my pookie bear, I have loved you ever since I first laid eyes on you. The way you drive into the paint and strike fear into your enemies eyes. Your silky smooth touch around the rim, and that gorgeous jumpshot. I would do anything for you. I wish it were possible to freeze time so I would never have to watch you retire. You had a rough childhood, but you never gave up hope. You are even amazing off the court, you're a great husband and father, sometimes I even call you dad. I forever dread and weep, thinking of the day you will one day retire. I would sacrifice my own life it were the only thing that could put a smile on your beautiful face. You have given me so much joy, and heartbreak over the years. I remember when you first left Cleveland and it's like my heart got broken into a million pieces. But a tear still fell from my right eye when I watched you win your first ring in miami, because deep down, my glorious king deserved it. I just wanted you to return home. Then allas, you did, my sweet baby boy came home, and I rejoiced. 2015 was a hard year for us, baby, but in 2016, you made history happen. You came back from 3-1, and I couldn't believe it. I was crying, bawling even, and I heard my glorious king exclaim these words,
"CLEVELAND, THIS IS FOR YOU!" Not only have you changed the game of basketball and the world forever, but you've eternally changed my world. And now you're getting older, but still the goat, my goat. I love you pookie bear, my glorious king, LeBron James. ☺️❤️🫶🏽 @KingJames
FaZe Adapt announces he'll be giving 10% of his sub revenue during the Subathon to the Human Development Fund to provide housing, food & education to the children in Gaza ❤️
🚨❤️🤍 BREAKING: Eberechi Eze to Arsenal, here we go! Verbal agreement in place between all parties.
Crystal Palace to receive package in excess of £60m as Eze preferred #AFC over Spurs.
Arsenal win race over Tottenham, been in advanced talks for days but never sealed.
🚨❤️🤍 BREAKING: Viktor Gyökeres to Arsenal, here we go! Verbal agreement in place between all parties involved.
Sporting accept last bid from Arsenal for €63.5m plus €10m, agent will reduce his commission.
Gyökeres will sign five year deal at #AFC. He ONLY wanted Arsenal. 🇸🇪
Man. Don’t know how to explain it other than shock. Words cannot express the pain of this letdown. The frustration is unfathomable. I’ve worked my whole life to get to this moment and this is how it ends? Makes no sense.
Now that I’ve gotten surgery, I wish I could count the number of times people will tell me I’m going to “come back stronger”. What a cliche lol, this shit sucks. My foot feels like dead weight fam. But what’s hurting most I think is my mind. Feel like I’m rambling, but I know this is something I’ll look back on when I’m through this, as something I’m proud I fought through. It feels good to let this shit out without y’all seeing the kid ugly cry.
At 25, I’ve already learned that God never gives us more than we can handle. I know I’ll come out on the other side of this a better man and a better player. And honestly, right now, torn Achilles and all, I don’t regret it. I’d do it again, and again after that, to fight for this city and my brothers. For the chance to do something special.
Indy, I’m sorry. If any fan base doesn’t deserve this, it’s y’all. But together we are going to fight like hell to get back to this very spot, and get over this hurdle. I don’t doubt for a second that y’all have my back, and I hope you guys know that I have yours. I think Kobe said it best when in this same situation. “There are far greater issues/challenges in the world then a torn achilles. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, find the silver lining and get to work with the same belief, same drive and same conviction as ever.” And that’s exactly right. I will do everything in my power to get back right.
My journey to get to where I am today wasn’t by happenstance, I’ve pushed myself every day to be great. And I will continue to do just that. The most important part of this all, is that I’m grateful. I’m grateful for every single experience that’s led me here. I’m grateful for all the love from the hoop world. I don’t “have to” go through this, I get to go through this. I’m grateful for the road that lies ahead. Watch how I come back from this. So, give me some time, I’ll dust myself off and get right back to being the best version of Tyrese Haliburton.
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Proverbs 3:5-6 “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight."