Finding Myself Beyond the Court

Annoyed, frustrated, and exhausted, that’s how my lanky, 8-year-old-self felt running up and down the court during my gym class basketball game. Throughout the whole period, I only touched the ball once while inbounding it. I felt invisible because no one passed me the ball, talked to me, or even took a second to glance at me. However, I couldn’t even blame them for it. I never called for the ball, got involved with any plays, and worst of all, I really sucked. 

During my elementary years, I was a quiet and introverted kid who rarely talked to any of my peers. Although I played soccer at the time, everyone knew that I would much rather read Geronimo Stilton books instead of kicking a ball around. Sports required too much energy from me, both socially and physically. If you’re anything like I was, you understand how draining that can be.
While most sports didn’t appeal to me, basketball was one I particularly shied away from. Contrary to what you might believe, I actually enjoyed watching basketball, whether it was my sister’s club team or an NBA game. However, I never believed I had the potential to go anywhere with basketball. For one, every time I took a shot the ball went anywhere but the net and my version of dribbling looked like something out of a horror movie! Just the thought of cheering on a teammate or asking for a pass made my stomach churn.

However, that changed during my grade six school basketball season. After a year and a half of doing absolutely nothing during the pandemic, I gave basketball a try. Our school team was huge and filled with lots of excitement for our upcoming games, and I started seeing basketball from a different perspective. When our first game finally came, we were thrilled to step onto the court. However, basket after basket, the other team relentlessly scored on us as we hopelessly chased after them. No matter how hard we tried, it was impossible to stop them. We ended up with only two points in total. Throughout our season, this happened to us every single game. We were the easy team that got tossed around and destroyed, a true embarrassment to the sport. 
We lost every single game except for one (miraculously), and I was furious. Although I hadn’t cared much for sports, I was still extremely competitive, and our shameful performances always left me disappointed. However, when we finally won a game, the feeling was euphoric. Even though we beat one of our league’s worst teams, it felt like we had won a championship. With all the joy and excitement rushing around me, my feelings of shyness and anxiety were instantly washed away. For the first time, I found comfort in someplace other than my home.  

The summer following that season, I convinced my parents to get me a basketball net to put in front of my driveway, so I could be ready for next season. I didn’t have a clue what to practice, although aimlessly dribbling around and throwing the ball in the net felt productive enough.

For most of the summer, I continued this process with one mission in my mind. I wouldn’t let us be the bullied team of the seventh-grade league. There had to be a change.  

When school started up again, I felt the same way I always had, tired and anxious about what would unfold this year. But a tiny spark in my heart glowed, reminding me that I had something to prove during basketball season. When December finally came around, it was time for our first official game. Stepping onto the court, a switch flipped in me knowing I didn’t want to lose this game. Immediately, I started cheering on my teammates, giving them orders, driving to the basket, and playing hard defense. It was an unbelievable sight that shocked everyone in the gym! How could “shy, quiet, and uncoordinated” Davina be leading her team to an actual victory?

It seemed like an impossible feat, but we did it. The next day, school was buzzing with excitement, and people were bombarding me with questions and compliments. While usually I would shy away from attention, this felt amazingly different. With sudden confidence, I embraced everyone’s comments, and the rest of the season only got better from there.  
While we didn’t end up winning the championship, our team made it to the semifinals and fought hard each game. Even though I was disappointed, the newfound confidence I had and friendships I’d made compensated for it. After our season ended, I was still itching to play basketball, so I signed up for a local club team with some friends. Our entire season, we didn’t win a single game, and this pained me even more than the previous school season. Again, I used this to drive me during my summer practice sessions, which were more organized this time. 

The next school season, I was completely dialed in. Every game, I showed off the moves and tricks in my arsenal of skills. It had gotten to the point where I could have fun and fully enjoy the games without paying attention to the score. We ended up second in our league for that season, and the feeling of accomplishment after our rough start filled us with joy. 

Months later, I joined a better club team, which helped me form new friendships and improved my skills. After another summer of dedicated practice and determination, basketball became a way of life for me as I entered freshman year.

I had countless memorable experiences on and off the court with both my junior varsity and my club team. Basketball became therapeutic for me. Some of the highlights of my life were hooping, whether it was at a tournament, during practice, or just shooting around in my driveway. A sport that I never thought I would enjoy turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.