Dreams and Nightmares

At the age of seven or eight, I started to play basketball. As a kid I played a lot of sports, but that day, when I touched the orange ball...I felt a connection. You know it's sometimes that you have that feeling in your guts showing you, in a way, that this ball, this sport, IS your destiny. Even though I was a child, I knew what I wanted to be when I grow up. A professional basketball player. Yeah. I was sure. I started at a team in our town, made some friends for a lifetime, and it felt good having my teammates as my best friends. I felt more secure and good about myself, as a kid that wasn't very social. Days, weeks, months, years going by, years of hard work, sweat, pain, wins, and losses, someone saw me at a game where I dropped 25 points and told me, "I want you to try out for the team before the national team." OH BOY, was I excited. Who would've thought that I would have that opportunity? And without asking my parents, I instantly said, "I'll be there sir."

When I told my parents, they were sooo happy, and I could see how proud my papa was. So I went. I tried out. The coach there said, "Kid, you have talent and I would love to help you make it to the national team."

My response was, "thank you coach, I really appreciate it." So we worked hard at every practice. He would always push me more than the other kids because he knew that I wanted it bad. One day though, while we were doing rebound exercises... I jumped so high I ended up stepping on a teammate's foot. My ankle twisted completely. The coach when he saw my ankle, instantly told my pops, "take the kid to emergency" because he knew that wasn't a sprain. We went to emergencies, did an X-ray, and the doctor came back with bad news. I had fractured my right ankle and I would have to stay out for six months. I said, "That can't happen, I'm preparing for the national team," and my father wouldn't let me go play with a damaged ankle, so I lived with the consequences.

I was crying every night without anyone watching me because I knew I had lost an opportunity of a lifetime...Obviously when I recovered six months later I had a fear that maybe it would happen again, but I didn't let that fear eat me alive. I fought it. I was working hard, playing good, and enjoying the game of basketball again..but no one came to watch games and pick kids for the national team....That moment I knew that whatever happened, I needed to continue playing basketball and that God has a plan for me...."God has a plan for me. Don't stop fighting..."