Dear Basketball

Dear Basketball,

I get very emotional thinking about all you are to me. Memories flooding. Eyes watering. Heart pounding.

The first time I played with you was at the YMCA. It was love at first sight and my parents knew it. Even though they tried to get me into piano and violin, I would always give them a hard time about it. Over time, they allowed me to focus on you and invested in my development as a player. At one point, I was playing for multiple teams in a single year. My parents even took me to a LA Lakers and Kobe Bryant camp.

My life revolved around you. I practiced by myself. I watched NBA games. I played the video games. I competed in leagues and tournaments. I had dreams of playing in the NBA. My dreams were so vivid I distinctly remember a dream where I was playing in the NBA All-Star game.

For some of the leagues I played for, I was the best player on the team. One time, I even had a 50-point game. Eventually, my dad signed me up to train with and play in better teams. I was still the smallest kid on the court, so I had to make it up with my skill and speed. It felt like I was always the underdog.

When I transferred from a private school to a public middle school, I didn’t have many friends. I was a pretty shy and reserved kid. This all started to change when I made the team. My teammates became my friends, some of whom are still my closest friends till this day. Without you, I wouldn’t have them in my life.

Going into high school, I was a towering 4’10”. It was at the moment when I knew I probably wasn’t going to make it to the NBA. Although my NBA dreams died, I still gave you everything I had to be the best player I could be, because I had so much love for you.

During my senior year, I was the MVP of our varsity team. I didn’t have any crazy stat lines, but I practiced and played with my heart and soul on both ends of the court. I took pride in my defense and the numbers proved it as I was the steals per game leader in our entire league.

I built so much character, because of you. Passion. Perseverance. Discipline. Commitment. Resolve. Confidence. Humility. You are a reason I even got accepted to UCLA.

By the time I entered college, you became a hobby. I played for fun recreationally with my friends. Then it all took a quick turn when I tore my ACL. Ironically, it was during a fast break in the final minutes of a game when I stole the ball. It all happened so quickly.

I couldn’t move my left leg. I was carried off the court. My friend drove me to the hospital. I got surgery. This was one of my major experiences with grief. I knew I wouldn’t be able to play with you for a long time and that broke my heart. Gradually my love for you decayed as I transitioned from player to spectator.

Deep down though I still held on to my love for you. I never truly let you go.

Throughout my career, I experimented with a lot of different paths from investment banking to management consulting to media & entertainment. Quite frankly, there were so many times when I felt broken. At times, I was doing soul crushing work. In those dark moments, I would reminisce on the times I felt most alive and that was with you.

Subconsciously I would compare my job with you. The problem is you never felt like a job. I loved you. I treated you as a craft. I felt most present with you. Is it too much to ask for something that made me feel the same way you did? Am I too naive?

When Kobe Bryant passed away in 2020, this pushed me to do even more soul searching. I lived with much more intention. I tried to live a life that was true to myself and stay true to my path. But every time the path kept leading me back to you.

Years later from my ACL surgery, my love for you rekindled after I moved back home with my parents and played with my friends again. Then my girlfriend found love for you too. So much so that we would watch NBA and WNBA games together. I coached and trained her in preparation for her games. We’ve even had conversations about our future kids playing with you too and becoming professional players.

The competitive fire for you was fueled again and I loved it. I would even practice by myself in the mornings. My eyes would light up whenever I saw an empty court. My imagination would run wild. My perspective of you changed as I was inspired by Kyrie Irving. You weren’t just a sport - you were art. You became my paintbrush and the court became my canvas.

I’m naturally a dreamer, which can be a double-edged sword. There came a point where I treated myself like an athlete again. CrossFit in the mornings. Hoop in the evenings. Changed my diet. Slept early.

But life humbled me quickly. I was playing a close game with my friends at LA Fitness. It was a recreational game, but I was treating it like a championship game. I know it sounds ridiculous. But in the heat of the moment, all I cared about was winning the game. During a defensive play, my left leg locked. I felt impact. I heard a pop. “FUCK, did I tear my ACL?!”

This is when I knew this would be the beginning of the end. After seeing multiple medical professionals, I felt all sorts of emotions. I was afraid you were going to be taken away from me… again. I was in denial that I was injured. I tried to convince myself that if I rehabbed hard enough, I can come back stronger. I cried thinking about losing you.

Now, I’ve made my peace. I’ve accepted that I’ll never be the player that I once was. My body isn’t the same anymore. I’m too injury prone. I don’t want to risk getting hurt and having injuries affect my day-to-day life. I’m in a different stage of life. This feels like a Toy Story moment when the kid is all grown up and is ready to giveaway his toys. Except I’m 27 years old and I’m letting go of you.

It hurts a lot, but I know it’s time to move on. You’ve helped me become the kid and man I am today. You’ll always be a part of me. You’ll always be in my heart. Goodbye for now.

Love you always,
Sean