Always leave them laughing when you say goodbye. (Mother Goose, 1903)

It's time to set the record straight . There was a huge fallacy reported in the newspaper and on television and on WNBA.com itself this past week. I don't want people spreading rumors that aren't true. You simply don't make errors like the one that flooded the news wires on September 23. My reputation is at stake. So, just to clear things up:

Follow Lobo through the years in the Rebecca Lobo gallery.
Nathaniel S. Butler
WNBAE/Getty Images
I am NOT 30 years old. (I am 29 until October 6th.) And ... I'm retiring.

The answers to intriguing questions that have nipped at my heels since my announcement:

Get thee to a nunnery?
I am not retiring to join the convent or some freakish cult that makes you drink Kool-Aid or root for Tennessee (just kidding). I am retiring simply because it is time. It is time for me to move on and pursue new challenges in my life. It is time to hang out with my husband (and teach him how to cook). It is time to step aside and watch the veterans (Sheryl, Spoon) and the young guns (Swin, Sue Bird, Ruth) do their thing. And it is time to do it with a bucket of popcorn in my hands.

What's the plan, Stan?
My immediate plan is to finally take a honeymoon with Steve. We were married a week before training camp opened so we didn't really have a chance to get away. We are hoping that we'll be able to do that now. I also hope to get back into broadcasting games. I really enjoyed doing that in the past. And, I'd like to do whatever I can to keep this league growing.

WNBA Greatest Hits:

I have more memories than if I were a thousand years old. (Charles Baudelaire)

I have incredible memories from my seven years in the WNBA. I'll never forget the home-opener at MSG in 1997. The crowd was so loud during introductions that no player could hear her name announced. Playing in the championship game that year was also amazing. I wish we'd won, but my memories of hanging out with the team after the game at our hotel and toasting the first season of the new league are what come to mind when thinking of that night. I'll also never forget flying home the next day and spending the whole flight talking and laughing with Spoon and Sue Wicks. Great times ...

I'll remember hanging out with my roommates on the road (Sue, Coquese Washington, Katie Douglas), all the restaurants we checked out (often The Cheesecake Factory), and the laughs at the hotels (many at the coach's expense). I'll think of locker-room antics and locker-room celebrations and post-game tears. And I'll think of the fans.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU.

There is no WNBA without the fans. Thank you for coming to watch my teams (New York, Houston, Connecticut) at home and on the road. Thanks for cheering us on wildly (and booing on the rare occasion when we deserved it). Thank you for all the encouraging words when I was struggling to get back on the court after my knee injuries. The letters, the nods in the airports, the smiles on the subway, and the shouts across the street all touched my heart. Even when you called me "Lisa Lobo" or told me to, "Get tougher on the boards," I appreciated it. It showed you cared. It showed that the WNBA matters.

I owe a lot to this league. I owe a lot to Val Ackerman and Renee' Brown and David Stern and Carol Blazejowski and Van Chancellor -- the people who made this league go since the beginning. Thank you.

And to the folks who've been reading "The World According To Me" for the past six years -- I appreciate it. Maybe if I'm nice enough, the folks at WNBA.com will let me continue my column from the retirement community. After a lot of years battling in the lane, I prefer doing my posting on the web. Maybe I'll get my buddy Sue Wicks to join me.