After the feeling of disappointment, frustration, and the emotional roller coaster that follows a tough loss, I had some time to take a moment to reflect on the important lessons I’ve learned from playing 100 games in the NBL. Once a nervous young rookie riding around on a moped to a now less nervous young man finding his place in the world with a step of confidence. It has taken many failures, tough losses, and lots of effort to be sitting in such a thankful position today. Surrounded by great friends, incredible teammates, and building a loving family. I’m grateful for every setback or challenge I've faced, because, without those, I wouldn’t have all the moments and memories I enjoy today, but just as importantly, I wouldn't be me.
Reflecting on 100 games brings up a vivid memory that sticks out in my young NBL career. It was just after the first month of my rookie season in Adelaide, we had lost to the Sydney Kings and I had another DNP (Did Not Play) game. I was slowly realising I wasn’t good enough to help the team win games, and even scarier, I might not be good enough to play in the NBL at all. After coming off a tough college career of more lows than highs, I went from not playing in my Junior year at Nebraska to realizing I wasn’t going to play in Adelaide, and for the first time it really hit me hard, I didn’t deserve to play. A moment in the mirror that was hard to feel and accept, just because I worked hard doesn’t mean I earned the right to minutes on the basketball court. I had no one else to blame or point fingers at about the position I'm in, other than myself, and this feeling was surprisingly freeing. Extreme accountability for the current situation I was in. It was time to make some changes, and I did.
Fast forward 100 games later, shaking captain Clint’s hand and walking out of the arena with my arm around Agent 97 (Jarred Weeks) talking about how incredible his career has been to play 200 something games as an Aussie point guard. Making sure I never take a single one of these moments for granted.
I love the saying it takes a village to raise a child. It takes a lot of people to believe in you to help reach your goals. As the siren buzzed, I look over and see my under15s state coach Bec Dudic waving and blowing kisses. The first coach (outside of my mum of course) to really believe in me, to help me feel empowered. I’m so happy that it all lined up and she was at the game. The effect a coach or mentor can have on someone at whatever age is always phenomenal. To make someone feel that you care about them, believe in them, can help empower someone to reach great heights. I can name so many people that have played a pivotal part in my career, and I’m sure eventually I'll find a way to thank them all.
But for now, what have I learned in 100 games as a professional basketball player.
I am not the scoreboard
The birds are chirping as the sun hits my face, a sleepless night after a tough loss and poor game from myself. I lay there consumed by the mistakes I made and the results of the game, not allowing myself to recover, get sleep and find peace in the work I put in. It wasn’t until I sat down with DJ before a game, talking advice, and he expressed the value and importance of controlling what you can control on the basketball court. Everyone’s heard it, the advice is given worldwide. But there is something different hearing it from the all-time leader in scoring and rebounding over the past 10 years in the NBL. Hand on my shoulder, I could feel the importance this practice has had on Dj's incredible career. Effort, intensity, knowing scout, preparing during the week. I took the practice extremely seriously, focusing on everything I could control, I didn’t stress about missed shots or an unlucky mistake. It’s hard to do, still is, but I improved at basketball overnight. This took a step further with me when I stopped taking on the weight of a loss or the extreme high of a win. I focus on being a great friend, a great teammate, a hard worker, a coachable player. I focus on choosing who I am. I am not what happens to me, and I am not the scoreboard. I am what I control and choose to be. I sleep well when I can look in the mirror and know I tried my best.
Consistency is everything
I was fooled. We hear stories of the grind, a week Bootcamp, getting up at 3am and having 6 sessions in a day, being like Kobe Bryant, and doing nothing but basketball. We aren’t Kobe Bryant, Kobe is Kobe, and you are you. The grind is finding what’s best for us, and being consistent with it. The 5 minutes of extra work before practice, being productive post-practice, not eating the unhealthy snack when your crave it. The daily positive habits when done consistently over a period of weeks, months and years can lead to unbelievable life changes. Success and growth isn’t a straight-line path, but those consistent habits can build an extremely sturdy base that will last any weather condition. Joey Wright introduced me to a 15minute finishing routine, and for two years I did the exact same layup package every day. Over the 2 years build-up of 15minutes a day, my finishing became something I can rely upon in games when I need it most, The left hand, the right hand, it doesn’t matter, consistency in my practice allowed for that to happen. I take one step at a time, but I take that step every day, and who knows where these steps could lead me.
I won't remember the box score
Human beings forget, it's just what we do. I've been a pro now for only 3 years, and with 100 games under my belt, I’ve already forgotten the details of so many of them. It didn’t take long for me to realize whenever I caught up with friends or old teammates, the memories made never have anything to do with the box score and personal achievements. It’s always about the mate-ship that’s created along the way. Yes, I love scoring the ball and playing well, but I already know when it's all said and done I'll miss hanging out with the team, laughing in the car on the way to a hotel, picking someone up when they are down, or celebrating the team's success after a hard-fought victory. The pressure I put on myself isn’t to score the ball or fill the box score, the pressure I put on myself is to live a full life, be the best teammate possible, and enjoy all the memories I’m making with my brothers along the way. Here is to hopefully 300 more games!