A Quote by Edgar Davids

I can't even remember playing a game without pain. — © Edgar Davids
I can't even remember playing a game without pain.
I started playing this game in the backyard, I started playing this game in middle school and going to go practice without any fans, without any sounds.
People talk about Kobe's 81-point game, the second-highest scoring game in NBA history. I saw the game. I don't care if it was 79, 81 - I just remember the game. I remember the moves. I remember the shots. I remember the beauty of it. The numbers? What he shot from the field? I don't care.
They are playing a game. They are playing at not playing a game. If I show them I see they are, I shall break the rules and they will punish me. I must play their game, of not seeing I see the game.
I remember many a time, going into someplace like Wrigley Field - where you could cut the humidity with a knife - and playing a doubleheader. I loved to play the game. It didn't matter if it was a doubleheader, or a single game, or a day game after a night game. I wanted to play.
I remember I'd be sleeping in the airport at 5 o'clock in the morning, traveling three hours, and playing a game that day. We never even chartered until my third year in the NBA.
Can you appreciate music without playing it? Yes, you can. You can appreciate baseball without playing it. Many people attend a football game merely for the crowd, the excitement, the color.
I remember, playing in college especially, I cried in almost every game I played. I just felt so much stress and pressure that I was letting everyone down if I didn't score a goal or win the game. I carried that weight with me into every game.
I remember one time being told I could not play in a basketball game at the College of William and Mary because I was black, even though I was playing with a United States Army team.
Since I was a kid, even in school I gave my best, playing with my friends, 100 per cent sweating, fighting. When I was playing any game, even video games, I wanted to win.
I remember - when I was little, I remember playing 'Tecmo Bowl,' and I would be so excited to be Bo Jackson in the game that I wanted to watch him play in real life.
I think of the trees and how simply they let go, let fall the riches of a season, how without grief (it seems) they can let go and go deep into their roots for renewal and sleep.... Imitate the trees. Learn to lose in order to recover, and remember that nothing stays the same for long, not even pain, psychic pain. Sit it out. Let it all pass. Let it go.
Frank Farrelly. . .must be thought of with respect (perhaps even delight?) by his clients who have so far played the game of therapy with their therapists, but, I am afraid, also a shocking example for those therapists who, in Laing's words, 'are playing at not playing a game'.
Any struggle or pain that you experience just gets you to the top, and you can't get there without making the climb. A few years later, you won't remember exactly the way the pain felt or how long it took, you'll just remember the view from the top. In fact, you might smile at the fact you had to work to get there.
I know that pain is the most important thing in the universes. Greater than survival, greater than love, greater even than the beauty it brings about. For without pain, there can be no pleasure. Without sadness, there can be no happiness. Without misery there can be no beauty. And without these, life is endless, hopeless, doomed and damned. Adult. You have become adult.
One day, I was playing 'The Game of Life,' the board game, with a mess of kids, and I wasn't quite sure how, but it seemed different than the game I remembered playing as a kid. So I bought an old game, from 1960, and it was different.
I've really enjoyed playing this game. It's a game that I try my best to enjoy to the fullest. Without pressure. Relaxed. And that helps me when I play.
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