I Used to Play Basketball

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This sport was more than a sport.

It was a life line. A way to keep my head from going under. It became my identity. The lines of the sport crossed with my own lines and blurred. We became melded together. I couldn’t think of myself without thinking of basketball. It became the most dominating aspect of who I was.

When my love for the game was taken from me, it was this connection that kept me playing for a further two seasons. I couldn’t see myself without basketball, didn’t know who I was beyond the court. I was scared to leave it – I had committed so much of my life to it.

All my spare time spent worshipping a sport I would never make a living from.

I loved every minute of it. Even in the hard times, I loved it. When I was close to vomiting, when my legs burned from running sprints, when I couldn’t hit a jump shot to save my life – I loved it.

Because there was always the next day. There was always the next shot to take, the next game to try to win. This characteristic, this quality of there always being another chance to prove yourself, was the seeded thing that kept me coming back.

And so, when I eventually left the sport, it made sense that I traded basketball for a different endeavour that shared this same quality.