I really liked reading this article in GQ (it’s old, I know) about Jeremy Lin’s path to success at MSG and after MSG.

It was as thrilling a sports story as we’d seen in decades—the type of thing your grandmother calls to ask if you’ve heard about. Everyone knew Jeremy Lin, instantly. At its epicenter, MSG coalesced around Lin and rocked in a way it never has before. (Spike Lee, who would know as well as anyone, told me Linsanity was the loudest he’d ever heard the Garden.) Part of it was because he was such a sudden success; part of it was because he was playing in New York; part of it was because he was so unknown, such a breath of fresh air in a sports landscape often choked by hype and bluster; and part of it, of course, the largest factor, everybody (including Lin) admits, was that he was Asian-American. He became the symbol of the changing face of the world, now taking over a sport in which people like him were considered a joke.

Humble dude, even though he’s one of the most famous people on earth.