Motivation Quote by Steve Kerr

Kerr’s line reads like sports praise, but it’s really a small act of canon-making. Calling a record “one of those” signals a shared mythology: fans and players already know the handful of numbers that live beyond the season’s churn, and he’s inviting you into that club. “Stand forever” isn’t literal, of course. It’s a bet that the league’s future - faster pace, more threes, more possessions, more optimization - still won’t produce the exact mix of opportunity, talent, and weird luck required to top it. He’s not arguing statistics; he’s arguing rarity.

The second sentence is the tell: “I really can’t imagine anyone touching it.” That’s not a forecast so much as a boundary. In contemporary sports culture, records aren’t just milestones; they’re identity anchors. They help a league narrate itself across eras, especially when styles change so drastically that direct comparisons feel slippery. Kerr, a player-turned-coach who’s lived through multiple stylistic revolutions, is implicitly defending a certain kind of greatness: the kind that resists being flattened by analytics or diluted by the “someone will break it eventually” cynicism.

There’s also a locker-room function here. Declaring a record untouchable elevates the person (or team) who holds it while subtly insulating current players from the pressure to chase it. It’s admiration with a pragmatic edge: honor the peak, then get back to the next game.