By Emmie Lee*, Toby Johnson Middle School, October 22, 2025
How can I hate and love something at the same time? No matter how much I practice, it isn't enough. Basketball, why can't I be better? People around me quit like dropping flies. One by one, I see their journey end, wondering if I’ll soon have the same fate. My mind was always racing and running, and it didn't want to stop. The thoughts would flood my head, screaming, "Why can't you be like them?" Looking around, I saw people who were so much better than me. I wished that I could be just like them. Sometimes I would sit and think, what if I did quit? What difference would it make to anyone?
The anxiety fills my head. It pounds on my head over and over. I'm my worst enemy, not the girl on the other team making fun of me. If I didn't judge myself so much maybe I wouldn't have hated basketball. How could I make it stop? How could I deal with my stress?
I always despise it when people yell at me. Criticizing me, pushing me till I'd cry. They all make me hate the sport. But they just really make me hate myself. Their voices grow louder and louder in my head so much I think I'd burst. I want to quit. Maybe everyone was right, and this wasn't the right journey for me at all.
I look around, watching everyone else succeed. Comparing myself to others was my biggest weakness. Looking around, I saw everyone making their shots, dribbling the ball just right. The demon ranting in my head would not stop. It looks at my friends questioning why I wasn't like that. Parents would come up to me saying I played great defense, but the judgment in my head said it wasn't enough. It reminded me that people only cared about my teammate doing a horrible play but making a half-court shot, classmates would only gush about the highlight reels, and not team ball.
I want to feel appreciated. It feels like most teams would brush me aside and praise the offense players. I was hiding in their shadows, begging for someone to finally notice my defense. I wanted praise. I needed the satisfaction of my teammates cheering me on, loving me like I loved them. I wanted my coach to be proud of me like he was of everyone else. I was tired of trying so hard just to be yelled at. My ego would shrink game after game. Why can't they notice me? What was so different about me and them? I thought about what would happen if I left, who would notice the difference I made? Would they care if I stopped playing?
One day, I was done. Not mad, not crying, done. It was all over, my parents allowed me to quit. They knew this would happen, it was obvious. It was like a thousand pounds were lifted off my shoulders. I felt some freedom.
Basketball somehow managed to pop up in my life again, but in a whole new perspective for me. It was coaching, right there at SASF. I wanted to make sure these little kids would love the game. I didn't want them to hate it like I did at times. I really wanted what I didn't get, a good coach. Someone who would cheer you on when you were missing everything, they wouldn't care if you suck. Your coach just wanted you to be happy. That's exactly what I desired for these kids.
These little bundles of joy made me remember why I loved this game so much. The joys of laughing with my teammates that felt like my sisters, winning games, and celebrating afterwards. It wasn’t exactly like that with those little ones, but they made me want to be a better basketball player so I could give them a role model to look up to.
I remember getting close to this one kid. I was minding my own business, shooting around when this tiny third grader came running up to me trying to block my shot. He would look at me when I was watching the game, the look a kid gives you when they want to play a game. Later, when we had an upcoming game, he begged me to be his partner for passing drills. At that moment, I felt like someone appreciated me for once. I felt like I was someone’s favorite, like he chose me because he liked me for who I was. I may never see this kid again, but he holds a very special place in my heart. He might never know it, but he taught me to love basketball again and everything that tagged along with it.
Going to the SASF 8 Dimensions of Wellness surprisingly helps me a lot. My stress feels like it disappears sometimes, and I can just breathe. This place teaches me how to manage myself when things go wrong. I’m not alone anymore, I was with people I could relate to. My emotions weren’t seen as a weakness or a burden. They were seen as strength and beauty.
* A pseudonym
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