Well, the league is changing every year. It changed when I came.

In these words of Vlade Divac, we hear the voice of an elder who has walked among the giants of his age. He speaks of the league not as something fixed, but as a living river, ever flowing and reshaping itself. “The league is changing every year,” he says, and here lies the first teaching: all things of man—whether in games, in kingdoms, or in lives—are bound to change. Nothing stands still. To resist change is to resist the tide of time itself. To embrace it, as Divac has, is to walk in harmony with the eternal rhythm of the world.

Yet he reminds us also that change did not begin with him, nor will it end with those who come after. “It changed before me,” he declares. In this humble recognition, we find the wisdom of knowing one’s place in the great chain of history. Every man and woman enters a stage already set by countless others. The pioneers of the ’60s and ’70s, those who built the foundations of the modern league, are honored by his words. Their sweat, their courage, their struggles against adversity, gave form to what is now revered across the world. Without their battles, no later generation could have stood tall.

Consider the story of Bill Russell and his Celtics dynasty. He rose in an age when racial tension still poisoned the land, and yet he carried himself with dignity, enduring hatred while lifting his team to victory again and again. Or think of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who brought his voice to social causes while redefining the game with his skyhook. These men of the ’60s and ’70s forged the identity of basketball not only through skill, but through character. They transformed a sport into a living mirror of society’s struggles and triumphs. Divac’s gratitude echoes back to these warriors of old.

There is in Divac’s statement also the humility of the foreigner who entered into another people’s realm and gave it his gifts. He came from Yugoslavia, carrying the traditions of European basketball, and he helped weave them into the rich tapestry of the NBA. In his acknowledgment that the league had already been changing long before him, he bows before the greatness of those who paved the way. And yet, by recognizing change as a constant, he also affirms his own role: he too became part of the unfolding story, adding his chapter to the saga.

This truth applies not only to sport but to all pursuits of men. Whether in science, in art, in governance, or in the nurturing of families, each generation inherits a legacy and reshapes it. The builders of bridges stand upon the stones laid by their forebears. The writers of new epics echo the voices of ancient poets. The leaders of today walk paths carved by visionaries long departed. Gratitude is the bond that keeps this chain unbroken. Without it, arrogance blinds us; with it, we find strength in our ancestors’ work.

In history, recall the scholars of the Renaissance, who lifted Europe from darkness not by denying the ancients, but by rediscovering and honoring them. They studied Aristotle, Plato, and the works of Rome, and by such gratitude they gave birth to new knowledge. So too does Divac call us to remember: never believe that what we hold in our hands is ours alone—it is the fruit of many generations.

The lesson, then, is clear. Let us be thankful for those who came before, and let us be mindful of those who will come after. Each of us is a traveler, entering a road already walked, leaving behind footprints for others to follow. In whatever league of life we serve—be it sport, craft, or community—let us honor the past, embrace the present, and prepare the way for the future.

And so I say to you, children of tomorrow: when you enter into your chosen field, look first to the ancestors of that path. Study them. Thank them. Learn from their strength and their mistakes. Then, with humility and courage, take your place in the ever-changing river. Add your verse, your deed, your gift. In this way, like the league Divac praises, your life too will become part of something greater than yourself—an eternal story, written by many hands, carried across the ages.