A Complicated Relationship with Basketball
Working in the NBA
From the earliest years of my life, I can remember dreaming of playing in the NBA… and then of working in the NBA.
When that dream came true, it was both better and more challenging than I could have imagined.
As an NBA Video Coordinator, people would ask, “Do you ever get tired of watching basketball?”
And I would respond, “No, I love it. Every game, every matchup is different. It’s beautiful, I never get tired of watching basketball.”
Other people in the industry would tell me, “You should get out while you can.”
And I would respond, “I’m fine. I love it. I understand the highs and lows but I’m good.”
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And then it happened, after 13 years, I hit burnout. After the suicide of a co-worker and a lack of response or care by those I worked with, my joy in the game and in my work started to crater.
Eventually, I found myself unable to watch basketball. Maybe not unable, I just didn’t care. I wanted to care but you can’t manufacture a care factor. It’s not all that different from scouting. You can tell a player who loves the game, who gives max effort, who has that… care factor. And if they don’t have it in high school and college, it’s not going to be manufactured by giving them a multi-million dollar contract. It’s a common mistake franchise after franchise makes… drafting a player with all of the tools, all of the upside, all of the basketball skills in the world, and yet they’re missing that one thing… the care factor.
A care factor goes a long way. It causes you to put in the extra hours. To go the extra mile. To stay focused through the highs and lows. And when its gone, things get murky. The direction isn’t clear. You’re simply showing up to show up, to collect a check.
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That’s where I’ve landed. Balancing 15 years of NBA experience and expertise in helping others get their opportunity to chase an NBA dream… and yet, distancing myself from the game itself.
I don’t think you can manufacture a care factor.
But I do think it can return. That’s part of why you see so many retired players make comebacks. Sometimes you just need a break, a rest, a reset.
Whether you play or work in the NBA, there’s a season-long grind. There’s little to no off season. There are constant pressures and demands. It’s addicting. In both a positive and negative sense. It’s both beautiful and vicious. It’s both soul-fulfilling and soul-sucking. It’s complicated.
Most people who have worked in the NBA have experienced it. That’s why so many told me at the beginning, “Get out while you can.” And yet, they themselves had not ‘gotten out.’ But they saw firsthand the destruction of marriages, families, and relationships. And yet… there’s another side. Having the game of basketball bring people together. Meeting and working with lifelong friends towards a common goal. Having families and children wait for practice to be over so the kids can run on the court and shoot hoops with their fathers and mothers. Families creating memories around the game of basketball and the rich relationships that are afforded by the game.
It’s complicated.
And after 15 years, my advice would be the same. And the same as in, all of it. Chase your dream. It’s worth it. It’s beautiful. Get out while you can. Save yourself and your family. It’s complicated. Everyone’s experience is going to be different.
I would say the best one can do is to simply ‘know what you’re getting into.’ But even that seems a bit shallow.
It’s never about basketball or the NBA. It’s about you. Becoming the best version of you. We’re shaped by the dreams we chase, whether we achieve them or not. We’re shaped by the relationships we build whether healthy or unhealthy. And for all those reading this, in some way, you’ve been shaped by the game of basketball. A game. A game that is built around relationships, teamwork.
I think I’m writing, still writing right now… waiting for my conclusion. Waiting for an epiphany. Waiting for a perfect ending.
Instead, I think it’s complicated.
Something that will unfold over time.
But the season is getting started and I haven’t figured out my relationship with basketball yet.
Maybe if I leave basketball all together, I’ll care again one day. Or maybe not care at all. Maybe if I hedge my bets, basketball will grow on me again. Or maybe there’s something else. An Option C. An option unknown. I’ll let you know.
But that’s me. The important thing for you is…
Well…
I hope you’ll let me know, because I’m still learning too.
Maybe the best we can do is help one another towards a common goal, isn’t that the game of basketball, anyways?