The Love of the Game
Many basketball players don’t recall the first time they played. The first jump shot they took. The first dribble-drive on the way to the hoop (that was likely a travel). However, those lucky enough to play at a competitive level, whether that be high school, college, or even semi-professionally, likely remember the last time. The raw emotions of that final buzzer, of a sport that has become a part of the athlete’s identity, suddenly seem to slip away.
My earliest memory of basketball started in the living room of my parent’s house. I remember watching NBA games on NBC and seeing the effortless skill of guys like Paul Pierce, Allen Iverson, Rasheed Wallace, Reggie Miller, and of course Shaq & Kobe. I would put my four-foot plastic toy hoop up on the couch and secure the base with blankets and pillows to ensure it would stay in place as I tried to reenact every play from those games. As I got a little older I would run outside to the driveway and practice heroic shots and comeback win scenarios in between every game. When my younger brother, Ryan, was old enough I introduced him to the game and we would play knock-out, H-O-R-S-E, 21, and one-on-one for hours on end.
As I entered middle school, and later high school, I clung to basketball. It was my outlet, my escape. When I was having a bad day, stepping onto a court provided me with the chance to exert some energy, build confidence in myself, and develop friendships with teammates and competitors alike. The competition and growth that basketball provided made a game I liked become a game I loved. High school basketball was transformative for me. The nerves that I, and countless others have felt, playing in front of a school of your peers. The anguish of defeat in a State semi-final game that prohibited me from reaching my pre-season goals.
Basketball provided me the opportunity to extend my playing career another four years, as well as to attend an amazing institution in Babson College. Those four years allowed me to refine and craft my basketball skills. It helped me make connections with teammates and coaches and friends who I will be tied to for the rest of my life. It provided me with the lows of slogging out summer workouts for a team just trying to break the .500 win percentage mark, to the highs of going 29-3 my senior year, and getting a chance to cut down a net and advance all the way to the Final Four.
Basketball still remains a significant part of my life, but in a different way. Coaching my high school team and seeing them go toe-to-toe with a much superior team for thirty-two minutes is still to this day one of my proudest basketball moments. Flipping the television to watch whatever NBA on TNT game and hear Shaq and Chuck roast each other. And I haven’t even mentioned the Madness that is March. Seeing the emotions, the heartbreak, the upsets, the skill-level. Watching Ron Harper Jr. sink a buzzer-beater to defeat #1 ranked Purdue and seeing the pandemonium of a student section storm the court. These are the moments that make basketball so great.
Basketball never leaves us, it just continues to grow inside of us. Basketball has helped me become the man I am today. Although I’m not playing as competitively anymore, I still love to find an outdoor court and get some shots up. It brings me back to my roots and even helps my mental health. You can lose track of time shooting hoops, music playing, thoughts coming in and out of your head. Playing pick-up brings strangers together in a very unique way. Sharing a court, and a ball, and collectively joining forces to win or lose. Paying it forward and teaching others about the game. Basketball is all these things, and that’s why I love it.
Coach John and his younger brother Ryan
