My feet hurt. My back is killing me. Basically my entire left hand has been jammed in the past week, the most recent being eight hours ago. My face got a little closer to the ball than I’d planned. I ran almost the entire game. My legs are dying on me.
There is not a muscle on me that is not complaining painfully.
The single reason I am in any pain at the moment is because of something I had to do for basketball.
I put absolutely 200% into our game and we still lost by thirty.
But tomorrow, you know where I’ll be?
And you know where I’ll be after that?
But do you know where I’ll be as soon as study hall is over?
I’ll be on that court pouring my energy into improving my game.
Our next game is Friday.
If we win, I will never lose my love for my sport, but if we lose, I will still always love this game.
Basketball happens to be my passion, the one thing I can do no matter what mood I’m in and feel better for it, and my first true love.
I absolutely have my brothers and coaches to thank for that, but a bad coach or a family problem can’t take it away.
So this post is for all the teams that have ever beat mine, all the players that ever trash talked my game, and all the boys that don’t think I’m good enough to play with them:
YOU. CAN’T. STOP. ME.