It was my dream that I had clenched in a fist of discontent and wouldn't release. But time had now pried every finger open. There is peace in an open and upraised hand that isn't grasping for anything.
I've heard people say it looks as if I don't care and I've certainly read that, but the way I play is natural. I don't think I can change it. I know I'm working as hard as the next man, even if it doesn't always look that way.