I love basketball because I am terrible at it. Despite my 6’ 0” stature, it seems that my brother stole any natural ability I might have had. Every morsel of skill I have has been worked and paid for with each drop of sweat spilt during the fourth rebound drill, each painful bruise I collect after being caught with a flying elbow, and each ragged breath I take trying to outsprint my teammate.
Basketball, for me, is a challenge.
Ever since I was a child I have loved a good challenge; I craved everything from riddles to difficult math problems. Sports, however, were the clear exception. I never could seem to do well. In third grade I had started my basketball career by scoring on my own team's basket, by seventh grade I had progressed to avoiding the ball at all costs. When I got to high school I thought I would finally be done with
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This commitment to whatever I put my mind to is what makes me who am. I know that however good I am at something, whether it be a subject, sport, my job or club, that I can always do better.
I love to be pushed, to go beyond what I ever thought I could achieve, to become better than I ever thought possible.
I truly love playing basketball, I love the rush of accomplishing a goal I set for myself, for finally making 8 for 10 free throws after failing for so long. Basketball is not just a sport, but a metaphor for how I want to live my life. I want to face every challenge head on, with disregard to the fear and doubt accompanied by the possibility failure. To instead know that yes, I will fail, many times, but with each surpassing of a milestone I will improve and make better mistakes. With challenges comes in inevitably of failure, but with failure comes the inevitability of improvement and