“Trust thyself: every heart vibrates to that iron string.
Nothing is at last sacred but the integrity of your own mind.
- From Essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson
All I wanted to be was a professional athlete. Basketball was my North Star: I ate, drank, and slept all things hoops. I was obsessed to the point where the figurative “dream” became literal. I’d fall asleep at night, with visions of competing against top players in arenas across the globe. Granted, most sport-loving boys entertain such fantasies at some stage of their lives, but this was happening in my early 20s. I was devoted to honing my craft with early-morning workouts, weight lifting, conditioning, and studying game film. Man, I wanted it bad! I gave it everything I had. Yet, sadly, when the opportunity came to fruition, I blew it.
For context, there are professional basketball leagues all over the world. Some well-known, others not so much. The National Basketball Association (NBA) is the premier league made up of the best players on the planet (450 players in total, representing 40+ countries). To be abundantly clear, I had some game, but I certainly was not that good. While every 10-year-old rec league MVP envisions himself as the next MJ or LeBron, I knew my limitations. I was determined, but not delusional. However, there are several other professional leagues, albeit at a lower tier of competition. Guys often say “playing overseas” because most of the leagues are abroad. This was my sweet spot. I was good enough to have the experience of playing overseas for a season, and, if I played well enough, potentially make a career of it.
Coming out of college, my job prospects were non-existent. I went to a small school and pro teams didn’t know me from Adam. I had to market myself to get an overseas gig so I pulled together my best game footage and made a highlight tape that I sent to coaches, teams and agents. I made hundreds of calls, sent countless emails, and connected with anyone who would give me a look. Unfortunately, these efforts didn’t yield much success. Occasionally I’d receive the “thanks-for-your-interest-but-we’re-going-in-a-different-direction” reply if the sender was courteous. Most of the time, though, I’d get direct rejection letters. Not to mention, my health was questionable. I was sidelined with a leg injury at the time which unfortunately resulted in surgery. It forced me to miss several months of training and even an entire season of play. Nonetheless, I continued to rehab, workout, and stay “on call” for any opportunities that would come my way. Sure enough, that call came.
The person calling was my Sicilian agent, the one guy willing to take a chance on me. Best way to put it: this dude was a BOSS. Highly-connected, knew the ins and outs of Euro basketball, hustled his ass off but at the same time was silky smooth – I swear this guy could sell water to a well. He was relentless in his advocacy and found a job for me. He told me that the paperwork was in order and I should pack my bags. I would officially be a pro basketball player.
Everyone was excited. My family and friends were over the moon and I was ecstatic, too. Well, at least outwardly. I had worked hard and waited so long for this moment. I should have wanted to scream from every rooftop, but deep down, something felt off to me. It was like my gut was saying, “DO NOT DO THIS! You’re still not healthy. Don’t rush it!” In the end, I ignored these doubts. I convinced myself that these feelings were just “nerves” and that I would be fine. I signed the contract and flew to Europe a few days later.
Although I’d love to share some of the ridiculous cross-cultural misunderstanding and language barrier issues I faced with my coaches and teammates, the overseas experience was unfortunately short lived. To play professionally, at any level, you’re expected to be at the top of your game. Especially as an American playing abroad, you are paid to score points and win games. Showing up less than 100% healthy and essentially ill-prepared didn’t go over well with management. I wasn’t producing results and it didn’t take long before the club released me. To make matters worse, I sustained another injury which required a second surgery, which effectively ended my competitive playing career.
Clearly, I didn’t take heed to Emerson’s above mentioned words. I knew signing that contract wasn’t the right move, but I ignored my own feelings. I forced myself to believe otherwise. I remember thinking: “Come on! This is what you wanted… Don’t sweat the injury, you’ll play through pain… If you don’t do this, someone else will take your place. You won’t get another chance…” In reality, this line of thinking was absurd. I was 24 years-old and there was ample time to fully recover. I had the resources and support network to get back into top form. Another opportunity was likely to come down the pipeline.
Yet despite these facts, I still went against my intuition and lied to myself. Sometimes we get too involved in a situation and dream that we lose sight of the big picture. We become so entrenched with the process that tunnel vision hinders our capacity to understand the true end goal. It doesn’t help that we live in a world that asks us to make decisions about who we want to be and what we want to do at such young ages. There is a real, and ludicrous, pressure to figure it out and be successful well before the age of 25, which is when our brains actually are fully developed. It’s anxiety inducing and leads to an excessive amount of pressure to make a “now or never” decision, which is just absurd.
While this experience left me feeling bitter and disappointed for quite some time, I’ve come to appreciate the life lessons gained: Trust your gut. Trust the timing of your life. Be patient.
You don’t always have to jump at the first opportunity. Don’t get it twisted, if it’s right, take it! But should you encounter any doubt or hesitation, take time to examine those feelings and understand their source. Get out of the weeds and analyze all your options from a bird’s eye view. If you’re passionate, work hard, and stay committed to your goals, you undoubtedly will create new opportunities for yourself. Sometimes it’s perfectly healthy to say no now, so you can say yes to a better opportunity later.
Submitted by Anonymous.
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