To my worst enemy,

Let's flashback to my freshman year of high school. This month, 6 years ago, I was going to start my first year of high school basketball. Being excited was the least I could be. When I got the news of making the team, I was ecstatic and very happy to finally be a part of something, especially as a freshman.

Cross country prepared me for the constant running and pushing. I was in enough shape to take it. Suicides and running with bricks was hefty at times, but nothing made me want to stop. The discouraging 8 A.M. practices on Saturday mornings became routine. I never truly wanted to give up because I was not a quitter. My love for basketball was strong.

I had been playing the game since I was in 3rd grade. I loved being a part of a team, and I loved working together with my teammates on the court. I was either a forward or a guard, but the forward position was more enjoyable. Recreation leagues prepared me for high school, and I guess I should say that it also got me ready for the painful storm about to come my way.

The 2011-2012 season started with an away game, and I was placed on the junior varsity team for the season. You were the one in charge of me and the many others who tried their best. You were tolerable during our practices in the beginning, and during the first game, you were lenient and accepting of our skills. Then, something snapped.

To this day, I will never be entirely sure of what happened to you, but it still makes me angry. You treated us like crap. You never thought of us to be good, dedicated players. I was kept mainly as a benchwarmer because you felt I was not worthy enough to play the game. I wanted to play so bad; I probably played for 5 minutes each junior varsity round. I'd be lucky if there was one.

I bet you never once thought of how horrible you were as a person. What human being would intentionally insult someone, especially one of her players?

I bet you never wondered why we were all so pissed half the time and we avoided speaking to you. I bet your mind never crossed over the fact that I was always upset, and I was always crying because my feelings were hurt.

Did you ever think of the times when you screamed at us because we were down a couple points? Remember when you told us we had to be the best? You forced us to keep quiet on bus trips home so we can think about what we all did wrong to disappoint you.

Towards the end of the season, I was at an all-time low. My self-esteem was lower than it was at the beginning of the season, and my confidence dipped on me. All because of you, I was not myself. I beat myself up for every single mistake. I cried in the locker room with my head in my hands because at that moment, I wanted to quit.

I was never a quitter.

It was all too much. The love and passion I had for the one game I enjoyed were close to gone. You showed favoritism towards the better players. You treated me like I was a waste of bench space. How does that make you feel?

You weren't even the head "coach"; that's the funny part. You did not have that seniority and privilege to be at the top, where you strived to be. You obviously tried too hard to be tough because this wasn't what you thought it was.

This wasn't rec ball, I know, but this also wasn't college ball, either. The way you spoke down to us was inappropriate for high school basketball. What "coach" purposely calls her player "dumb" and "incapable"? What "coach" calls her team "babies"? What "coach" lets her junior varsity team punch the lockers in the locker room because they were so angry at what she had said to them?

What "coach" lets her freshman junior varsity player hate the game of basketball? You.

I can't even call you a "coach" since you never were one in the first place. I never learned anything from you. I was unhappy. I actually dreaded coming to practice and playing some basketball because I was afraid of what you would do.

6 years later, I look back on this horrible time of my life. I did make it through the entire season without quitting. I went to the banquet and that was that. I was recognized for my famous shot fake. There was a team picture. Then, I left it all behind me.

I was never close with my teammates because I always felt like an outsider. I was the freshman on the JV team so I was underneath them. When the "coach" doesn't make your season enjoyable, along with your team, you know that playing the actual game was not for you.

After all, we were not in rec league anymore, so no one was going to be nice.

When I entered my sophomore year, I highly considered about going back. I was going to take a second chance at being recognized for actually playing basketball. I wanted to show my love for the game, or what was left of it.

I heard through the grapevine that our real coach had some sense and fired you. I guess she noticed what you had done to us. You didn't have a heart. If you had loved the game so much, you would have taught us to play it right and love it right, like you did.

Nevertheless, I still didn't go back. I was disappointed because I didn't expect it. I quit the game of basketball for good, but I did not quit on playing it. To this day, I still shoot around and play without keeping score. I shoot 3-pointers and make them. I shot fake my invisible opponent and score on a lay-up. Oh, the nostalgia.

What I know now is important. A coach is supposed to teach you and support you. You are supposed to look up to a coach. The coach's job is to make you better, help you improve, and learn from your mistakes. Instead, this person had let me down. You let me down and made me feel small. You crushed my passion and killed my love for basketball.

Just to let you know, that is NOT what a coach's mission should be. You don't deserve the label of "coach" with your name.

Thank goodness you're gone, and I feel bad for the next players you decide to humiliate.

Good riddance,

An ex-basketball player