The ball went up. The opposition grabbed it. Twelve thousand fans rose from their seats. We were in Perth, representing Australia, but this was not our home game.

"Ahh, the opportunity to silence a crowd," I thought, as energy flowed from my shoulders to my fingers, from my chest to my feet.

After the first several up and backs, I rose up for my first shot. It felt good. It clanked off the ring. The crowd roared. I shook it off. Physically with my arms. Mentally by locking onto the next play. Missing is part of shooting and I've missed a lot of shots in my career.

The ball found me again. I set my feet and let another shot fly. This time I knew it was going to miss. Some shots just come off the hand funny. Their team grabbed the rebound and pushed it down the floor.

I was the captain. I was the starting 3. The coach trusted me. The boys had voted me captain at the Boomers camp a week earlier.

None of it guaranteed success.

The half played out the way it started. I still hadn't made a shot. Our defense had given us the lead. The boys were getting around me. And still, the voice crept in. You aren't good enough to be captain. Your shot isn't going in. You're not enough.

That voice gets loud. But the game doesn't stop and it's my job to step up. I don't train for the moments of flow. I train for the mud. When my feet won't move and my hands start to jitter.

Before the second half, I stopped. I let out a long sigh as I thought about how much my wife and 8-month-old son love me. I reflected on how far I've come, from the kid shooting in his backyard against his dad to playing for the Boomers.

That was enough. I ran back out there.

I attacked out of the pick and roll, getting two feet into the paint and finding a teammate on the wing. I talked on defense and crashed the boards hard. Made some plays. Missed some. It wasn't a perfect half. But I attacked every moment with energy. The voice was still there. I just kept going.

I never did silence the crowd. But I didn't need to.

Confidence isn't the absence of doubt. It's hearing the voice and having the courage to keep going.