HOOP DREAMS. WE’VE ALL HAD THEM, and I hope yours are still very much alive.
The magnetism of the game is undeniable—from the orchestra of sounds on the court to the acrobatics taking place within it. Once you’re introduced to and exposed to the greats, the desire to shine on the hardwood is instantly born.
I once dreamt of holding the rock in my hands and igniting the crowd like the Black Mamba, shifting opponents like Iverson, dominating defenders like Shaq and scoring with the velocity of a Rocket like McGrady. Thirteen points in 33 seconds. Google it, then run it back again. Similar to Kobe, my hoop dreams began in Italy, where I grew up playing as a child, they followed me across the Atlantic Ocean to the United States at 10 years old. As a new kid, basketball became my bridge to overcome cultural gaps, form long-lasting relationships and accelerate my English-speaking ability. And by that, I mean respond to the trash-talking on the playground.
Did I make it to the League? No. But I refused to let my hoop dreams die and instead found another avenue to participate in the ecosystem.
