My love for basketball came around the time I was in elementary school.

My parents separated at an early age. It was me and my mom living together in Mattapan, a neighborhood in Boston. My dad and I would hangout on some weekends. He would bring me to watch him play at a mens league that was in the middle of the Gallivan Boulevard projects. Everyone from all around the city would come and hoop there on the weekends. There wasn’t many kids there and as an only child, and it had me form stronger relationships with adults at an early age. There was a Saturday and Sunday league, depending on my dad’s schedule, I’d go to one of the games.

The team he was on was pretty stacked. Guys like Shawn Brown who used to play at Merrimack, Hugh Coleman who played at Bowdoin, Lynn hoop legend Marcos Echevarria plus other guys who played college and overseas were all on the same team. As a kid on the sidelines, I spent a lot of time seeing them blowout other teams — the league had a mercy rule implemented, which was often used during games.

The coach urged each and every one of them to put up shots. His name went by Chill Will, a known figure in Boston, more known for his ‘Diamond Ring’ Tournaments at Malcolm X Park in the summer. They won tons of championships, traveled around the state in the summer winning tournaments, and I even was given my own ring and coat before. I even got a chance to watch them play Glenn ‘Big Baby’ Davis during his NBA stint one summer.

I saw them have a team mostly full of shooters, like automatic from deep. My pops on the other hand was a different story. A 6-foot-6 forward who found a lot of success rebounding and kicking back out to shooters. When he got the ball on the block, he would score with post moves, and also known down mid range shots. There wasn’t many other players on the floor his size. It wasn’t until I was 29 and visiting back home when he told me his story.

My dad’s basketball origin

Growing up without a father, he played basketball at the Burke High School in Dorchester. Chosen to play at the McDonald’s All-American game back when they did it by state, but he didn’t participate. Offered to play college ball for a school in Canada, but his mom didn’t pick up the phone when coaches called. Growing up on section 8 and having little parental support, after playing ball at community college and a season at UMass Boston — he got in the workforce. For decades he would work with kids in group homes with traumatic history. The now-retired 6-foot-6 guy till this day always gets pointed out by his height. When I went back home and got dinner with him earlier this year I told him “I forgot how tall you are.”

My basketball journey didn’t go as planned

As a kid, I thought I was going to be his height. However, life had other plans for me.

I started to get taller at a fairly fast pace, being about 5-foot-10 in middle school. My moms side was full of short people who barely cracked 5-foot-9. My mom was 5-foot-4 and I already surpassed her at a young age. Naturally, I believed my height was going to mirror my dad, but then the pace stunted. I finished around 5-foot-11. One day I went into the doctors office and told him my plans of playing professionally. The doctor looked at me with a confused face and said ‘NBA?’ and proceeded to pull up my growth chart.

He pointed out how my growth began to slow up. It was unlikely I was going to get any taller. He also started to point out the average height of professional players and told me it wasn’t going to happen. I remember walking out of the doctors office completely shot at my chances of going pro.

As I got in my teens, I still tried to take basketball seriously. Working out, going to camps, AAU, and everything I thought was right. Going to the park by myself every morning, jumping rope, watching film, and trying to figure this life thing out. I got the chance to play against future professional and NBA players. I put tons of pressure on myself to make something out of basketball. But it didn’t happen as a player.

I tore my ACL after my junior season and was never the same. After high school, I trained all summer to make the team at the University of Maine. Though I made it past a couple of cuts, no cigar. Then I transferred to UMass Dartmouth, but pulled my hamstring during tryouts, that’s when I gave it up and played for fun

The present: Sportswriter in NJ

Today, I’m a sportswriter that has lived and traveled to multiple states for this profession. I’ve gotten to cover college games, the NBA and some of the best high school players in the country. Gotten to meet world class athletes in all sports and travel to do so. I still hope to cover the Olympics, and professional sports on the daily.

Sometimes I sit back and reflect on the times I would sit on the sidelines as a kid. Watching former Div. I, II, and III players obliterate other teams. Fond memories for sure.

Other times I would think ‘why didn’t my dad put me in basketball leagues as a kid?’ or ‘why wasn’t we at the park working on my game on the weekends?’ Maybe it was his way of having someone come to his games. An experience he didn’t have as a child himself.

Nowadays, the current job and past jobs rarely have people my age or my skin color. It’s a tough business to get into and can be lonely at times. Not to mention the days of mistakes and failures along with small successes. Thanks to my relationship with basketball and my dad allowed me to persevere through it all.