Ah, Jay.
Let’s start by saying that in about 18 months time, almost everyone is going to forget you have an actual first name.
Part of me wants to ‘warn’ you of all that is yet to come. To scoop that 11 year old up, hug them, and protect them from the world that is ahead of you. But in doing that, I realise you would miss all the great parts too.
You’re going to get cut from your first WABL team. Your best friend makes it, though. You’ll be slightly disappointed, but not surprised. There is going to be a bit of plot twist with this one, so stay tuned.
12 year old you is adamant you don’t want to play anywhere else. Your Mum makes you go to try-outs at another club anyway. Saturday morning in January. Disgustingly hot. You’re mad at her about it. She was right though; you were just being stubborn. This shouldn’t be a surprise.
You get there and for the first time in a really long time, you feel like you fit in. You’ll meet some pretty incredible people here over the next 15 years. There will be individuals who turn from mentors into family. Team mates who turn into the greatest of friends. They will be the people who see you through some of the most cherished and toughest facets of your life in the next decade.
You will celebrate these people finishing their degrees, their birthdays, and engagements. You will meet their kids in the hospital, stand alongside them in their wedding, bring flowers to their housewarming, watch them go through unimaginable loss, and travel all around the world to visit them.
You’re going to lean on a lot of these people when the road gets rocky.
You’ll feel forever indebted to the game of basketball for the people it has bought you. This will mean more to you than any collection of W’s, championships, or individual accolades.
Juniors is fun. A lot of people are going to make fun of you for playing for a less ‘successful’ club. Those same people are going to tell you that you’re only good, or you can only score, because you wear a red uniform. Older you is very similar to 15 year old you. You like to prove a point, and you love to prove people wrong.
You’ll play your first SBL minutes at 16, against said club that cut you all those years ago. Your team loses by 40, but selfishly, you’re pretty happy about it, because it means you actually hit the court.
You’ll play over 230 games in that uniform, and hold captaincy for close to 2/3 of those. To be honest, you’ll feel fraudulent having that ‘C’ next to your name almost every time. You’ll discover that the one way you do know how to lead, is by example.
In the background, people ask why you’ve never tried out for a state team, didn’t go to college, never committed to an intensive training program, and why you turned down a WNBL development player position.
People think you’re flaky, because sometimes when you do decide, you pull out at the last minute. You’re seen as unreliable.
You won’t really understand why you are this way for a little while longer. All you know is that it makes you feel like you’re going to both throw up and cry your eyes out whenever you think of making such large decisions. On reflection, sometimes the seemingly small ones, too.
I hate to tell you; life gets a little wild. You’re going to deal with some tough situations that require resilience, patience, and calm that you didn’t know you had in you.
You’re going to learn that being sad isn’t a flaw in your being. It isn’t anything that anyone has done, hasn’t done, or can fix for you. You will learn that you must implement this same notion of thoughts in how you see others, to yourself too.
You will discover that you can love others from afar. Painfully, you will have to sometimes. You can always help, but it isn’t your job to save. You’re going to find out that it’s okay for people to look out for you.
You’re going to learn that your anxiety doesn’t define you, or what you can do.
You forgive yourself for the missed opportunities you couldn’t take when you were younger – and even older – when you were crippled by the ‘what-ifs’ of the world.
Maybe you didn’t take those doors, but the ones you did that were open, lead you to where I am now, and it’s actually pretty great.
You’re going to learn that you see and interpret the world a little different to some of the people around you. This seems scary, but you will perfect the skill of asking for the help that you need, when you need it, and without feeling like a burden.
Later on, you’re going to have the confidence to authentically show up and love who you love, without fear of judgements or fitting into labels. You’re going to learn that in doing this, it will help more than just you.
The biggest thing?
You’re going to learn that there isn’t anything wrong with you.
You’re going to learn that sometimes, like when you fracture your ankle at 19, that rehabilitation doesn’t just occur for physical injury.
Sometimes your brain needs times to rest, time to recover and a chance to learn strategies for regaining strength, too.
That at times in your life, you’re going to need medication to get on with the day, and it won’t just be because you’re in a moon boot.
You’re going to learn that sometimes waving your towel the biggest, hyping and cheering on your team mates the loudest, and giving the quiet direction to the ones who need help, means more to you than being the superstar.
You’re going to learn that being statistically impressive isn’t everyone’s role on a team, but it doesn’t mean that you aren’t needed.
You can contribute meaningfully in ways that are silent on paper. You can lead without having to have the most emphatic voice, because what matters is what you say, not how you say it.
In regards to that plot twist? Somewhere along the line, you decide to move on from the place you call home. It’s a scary concept to grasp, but it’s time. You’re 28 now, but you’re still worried that people at this new club may not like you.
You’re apprehensive that the physicality and toughness you bring on the court will be their direct assumption of how you act off of it.
The first practice will feel like the first day at a new school, where everyone knows each other and you’re brand new. The second and the third feel a bit the same. You’ll find your way though, and before you know it, being at Willetton will heal a really big part of you – the piece that loves basketball again, and everything and everyone is has bought you.
It’s gonna all work out just how it’s suppose to, Jjay.
Enjoy the ride.