I was never forced to play basketball. I simply wanted to because I saw my Dad play it and I witnessed how much love he has for the sport. I wanted to see if I would develop the same passion that he had. With a basketball court right next to my house, we went over there a lot together. We would shoot around, play shooting games, and tried (but failed) to win at one-on-one. He tried to show off and say that he's still got it after not playing for many years, and I would smile and nod to make him not feel old.
As I got older, I started to enter into more competitive playing in high school and travel basketball. He was there for it all. He tried to make it to every game, no matter if we were losing by a ton. Which spoke volumes to me, since he absolutely hates watching bad basketball. I always looked to him after every game and pound him with questions. How did I do? Did I improve on this? What are some things I can work on? Although I did have a coach to ask all those questions, I wanted to see what my Dad's perspective was because he knows how I play.
He also taught me to control my anger. After every game my team lost, I would be enraged; it didn't matter if I had a good game or not. If we lost, I had a bad attitude and I didn't want to talk to anyone. My Dad pulled me aside a few times and firmly told me to get over it. Yes, it is a loss and yes, it sucks now, but I have to look forward to future games. That game is over now and I cannot dwell on it forever, but if I choose to let it take me over, then it will show when I play. After pounding that into my head multiple times, I finally got it. I didn't let a loss get to me because there would always be a next one.
My high school basketball career was messy. It seemed that no matter how hard I worked, I never saw play time. The coaches never got to see the real me play because they never gave me a chance. At one point, my coach got into my head and made me want to quit this sport that I had fallen in love with. My dad took me under his arm and he said that it's OK to quit because he understood why I wanted to. He didn't encourage it, he just accepted whatever decision I would make. He knew whatever I chose would be the best for me in the long run. I chose to stick it out and I'm glad I did, because I have created amazing memories while playing collegiate basketball.
When I had surgery my senior year of high school, my dad was by my side when I went in and when I came out of the operating room. He helped me with every little thing and never pushed me to get better faster. He brought me to and from physical therapy, carried me up and down stairs when I needed assistance, and got me ice packs every time I needed them. He was my right hand man; he still is and always will be.
My mom told me when he saw me get my shot for the first time, he began to cry and said, "She finally got it." My Dad was the first man in my life, and he has taught me so much about basketball and about how to deal with difficult situations throughout my life. He always showed me and vocalized how proud he was of me, which pushed even harder to be the best I can be. One phrase he told me one time that has always stuck with me is that "You keep soaring every year, never stop." -- Dad"
