Thank You Basketball

I’m probably not supposed to be here. A young black male playing college basketball at NYU and living in Greenwich Village? To be in a situation like this is a rarity for people who look like me and I understand that it’s a true privilege to be here. Yesterday I finished my last college basketball game and I can’t help but reflect on how quickly I ended up at this point in time. There is an endless list of people who I owe a great deal to. It takes a village for a young man like myself to develop and continue on this journey. When you have been rewarded with the gift of a supportive environment where people go the extra mile to ease your journey, it is your duty to give it back. I could not possibly repay the people who have entered and shaped my life with gifts of monetary value or anything like that (Manhattan ain’t cheap, that’s for sure). But what I can do is take this support and pay it forward each and every day. I strive to inspire others as you all have inspired me, and I thank you because you keep me standing.

I would be doing myself a disservice if I did not take the time to acknowledge what has been a part of my life ever since my mom bought me a Scottie Pippen jersey and tacked a hoop onto my crib at just a few months old. It is safe to say that I was destined to play basketball, or depending on how you look at it, I didn’t really have a choice. To the game I love so very much, you have afforded me tremendous experiences. I have met my best friends on the court, traveled across the world, and ultimately, you have helped shape my identity. The court has always been my place of solace, providing countless opportunities for me to express myself away from home and create.

In the process, I found a collection of new homes. The Columbia North YMCA on Broad Street helped a 7-year-old with his brand new Rec Specs develop a handle. Penn Valley Elementary School was where I channeled my inner-Answer, persistently working to master the right to left crossover. The Shack gave me my first taste of competitive basketball outdoors in 4th Grade. At Welsh Valley Middle School, I learned the true work that goes into perfecting a craft with Coach Will at 7 a.m. before class. Hank Gathers Rec Center showed a kid living in the suburbs what Philly toughness was all about and allowed me to compete (in my opinion) in the best basketball city in the world. It was Downs Gym where I was introduced to the storied Lower Merion Basketball program directly across the street from my home. In 2006 I stood from my balcony on the corner of Montgomery Avenue as guys like Ryan Brooks, Garrett Williamson, and Greg Robbins rode through the streets with gold medals draped around their necks. I dreamed of one-day experiencing that feeling, and 7 years later, we shocked the state in Hershey.

Although my aspirations of playing Division I Basketball didn’t come to fruition, the Palestra will always be my home and I am thankful for the University of Pennsylvania. The Kline Center in Carlisle taught me the importance of fighting through adversity. Coach Seretti gave me a chance at my lowest moment, and I am forever grateful for that opportunity. In my sophomore year, I made the biggest decision of my life in transferring to NYU. I left behind great friends who allowed me to feel comfortable in a tight-knit school community. But I knew that in order to become the best version of myself, New York City would be the place I needed to be and has since challenged me to step outside of my comfort zone. Although Hunter College was not our true home floor, wearing those three violet letters across my chest as guys like Dolph Schayes, Satch Sanders, and Cal Ramsey had done prior was a tremendous honor. In just a short period of time, NYU has changed my life. I never wanted my on-court abilities to totally define who I was as a person or to be identified as just a basketball player. I was always afraid that I would be boxed in or categorized unfairly like a lot of athletes are. Regardless, a basketball player is what I am, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Since the final buzzer sounded on my collegiate basketball career, I have come to understand a few things. For starters, this certainly isn’t goodbye. The game will always be with me, no matter where I am. I don’t think I will ever rid of the random euro-step through a crowd of people in the street, followed by a reverse lay-up off the glass of an invisible basket. The hoopers know what I’m talking about, “And One.” My mission is to give back to a game that has given me so much, and the best way I believe I can do that is by pursuing a career in basketball. Whether it be as an agent or someday working my way into an NBA Front-Office, I know in my heart that basketball is where I belong. To provide stability in every environment that I find myself and to help others find their sense of purpose is what I strive for. There is no doubt in my mind that I am built for it and quite frankly, my mom did not drive countless miles to games all across the country for me to leave basketball in my rearview. I am betting on myself and doubling down, and with the drive and desire that has been instilled in me through the support of my family, friends, teammates, coaches, teachers, and mentors, it has helped me realize: you know what, I am supposed to be here.

Looking back, I think maybe I could have taken a few more shots here and there. I’m sure many of my coaches would tell me that I was too unselfish a lot of the time, and I believe it might have cost us some games. Where I found joy, though, was getting my teammates involved. It was always about making the right play or the extra pass, not the play that would merit individual accolades. The thrill of seeing my teammates find success on the floor always outweighed my personal achievements. Some may find this to be too altruistic, but basketball in its purest form is the individual sacrificing for the benefit of the collective. In a society where our worth is constantly measured by race, gender, and economic status, the game stands as a unifier. No matter where we come from, in-between those lines, we’re all just simply basketball players. Time will tell where this game takes me next and nothing in this life is ever promised or guaranteed. I don’t know it all, but I do know this: without you, I am nothing.

Thank you Basketball.