2.12 Swoosh! The basketball net rang as I shot the ball and made it. This is where I spent most of my free time at. The basketball court was my sanctuary, the only place I can go to clear my mind off of everything else in the world. I wanted to be the best, but to be the best you had to practice and that’s what drove me to go outside every day. My dad would always say negative things about me, but this only pushed me to prove him wrong. He would tell me I’d never be as good as he was in high school, so I practiced. I was determined, and I wasn’t going to let myself down at any means necessary.
It was June 22, 2010 and my team was in nationals. This was probably the biggest game of my basketball career yet. I could recall my dad telling me before the game giving me tips, but I never listened. I was focused on winning the game, that’s it. On the second possession of the game I went up for a rebound and came down wrong. I’d never been in so much pain. As I lie there on the ground near the baseline teary eyed, I realized the pain was too excruciating and I wouldn’t be able to play the rest of the game. Everyone crowded around: Coaches, teammates, referees, and even my dad. I knew I had let my team down, but even more, I let myself down. As I got lifted onto a stretcher by the ambulance, I held the back of my knee, hoping it wasn’t a serious injury. I arrived to the hospital, and received X-Rays. I tore my ALC and my MCL, this meant I wouldn’t be playing basketball for at least a year. I let my team, my dad, and myself down. I was devastated when the doctor gave me the results.
Basketball was all I had, and now that I could barely walk without being in excruciating pain, I felt empty and alone. I spent most of my time in bed. I needed to have surgery on the ligaments that I tore, I hated the thought of surgery even though I’ve never had surgery before. The doctor put me to sleep before preforming the surgery. After the surgery, I was told not to put much pressure on the knee I injured. They gave me a knee brace and crutches, to help me move around easier. For the next few weeks I rested as told, all I wanted to do was be back on the court. That was all I thought about 24/7. I thought about how I had let my team down when they needed me most. This only made me angry. 6 weeks after the surgery, I was able to walk without a knee