To Vince Carter, with love

Vince Carter is the oldest player in the NBA, but that’s not stopping him from making waves.  Since it’s Thanksgiving and all, I wrote him a nice letter.

Hey Vince Carter,

Can I call you Vincent? No? Okay, we’ll stick with Vince.  Anyway, Vince, what I’m about to say is on the heart and mind of every basketball fan that bleeds the Beale Street blue.  I just love you, bro.  And Memphis loves you, too.

This isn’t a love that stems from the 16 seasons you thrived in the NBA prior to signing with the Grizz. It goes far beyond the Nike Shox I laced up, that gave me glimpses of hope as I attempted ridiculous Vince-like dunks on the lowered-goals in my driveway.

Of course, I love watching the highlights of you dunking all over innocent Frenchmen, like that time during the 2000 Olympic games:

And naturally, we get a little excited when remembering all of the other times that you glided through the air, with little to no regard for anyone in your path.

Sure, this is what you’re known for. I get that. You’ve been an NBA legend since your rookie year (I was 5 years old, by the way), and these highlights have solidified your legacy.

But that’s not why Memphis loves you.

Memphis loves you because you GRIND.

You see, the 901 is the mecca of Grit ‘n’ Grind. It’s painted on buildings, plastered on billboards, t-shirts and everything in-between. That same grind is also present in the lives of the fans that fill the Grindhouse to watch their team scratch and claw against all odds.

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It’s more than a catchy slogan. It’s the heart and soul of Memphis. Truthfully, we’d be hard-pressed to find another player whose game, attitude and lengthy career resembles the grit ‘n’ grind mentality that is Vince Carter. You just keep going.

Instead of closing out your career in Phoenix and coasting into the Hall of Fame, you accepted a bench role in Dallas. You kept grinding. That grind continued when you signed up for a new bench role with Memphis in 2014, bringing one of the biggest names in basketball to Bluff City.

At 39 years old, you’re the oldest player in the NBA. Everyone else in your draft class and your basketball era has hung it up – except you. You’re still grinding.

Your 19^th season just started, and already the world has watched you execute a fourth-quarter lock-down of one of the league’s youngest studs, Andrew Wiggins. Furthermore, the results of your mentor-ship over Zach Randolph’s transition to a bench role are paving the way for the Grizzlies second-unit. Also, don’t forget this:

(Please don’t stop, by the way)

If our man Tony Allen is the Grindfather, you’re the great-Grindfather (someone write that down). Truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The truth is that I don’t know how much longer the FedEx forum will be subject to Half-Man,-Half-Amazing.  One thing is for sure, though:  I’m going to enjoy it while I can.

You keep grindin’.  I’ll keep believin’.

Love,

Jakob (and Memphis)

P.S. How serious were you about the dunk contest this year?  Because that would be incredibly lit.  You can get back to me on that – no rush.

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