When I was 5-6 years old, in Mallorca, I had to decide if I wanted to play Basketball or Tennis. My family has a history of being great Basketball players. My cousins all play, my uncle coached the National Spanish team.

My family in Spain are also very tall. Most of the men are above 6’4”. My father used to take me to the local courts near Pollença after school and sometimes I’d shoot hoops until the sun went down. Stopping only to eat.

When we first came to the U.K. and I attended school in Wales, the Basketball team was the Rugby team. I didn’t get any game time and there were no outdoor courts for me to play after school.

I was determined to play though. I used the laundry basket in our flat as a hoop and I’d spend hours throwing a pillow I’d taped into the shape of a ball. I practiced getting it in from every angle, I put the basket all over the flat and shot through doors, up stairs, everywhere.

I practiced with it every waking moment, used to drive my mother nuts searching all over for the laundry. July came and I flew to Spain to spend the summer with my cousins in sports camp.

I explained the situation in Wales to my cousins, how I wasn’t in a team and there wasn’t a court nearby, I hadn’t played in months! On the 1st day of camp, we were split into teams and faced each other on the court to see what level everyone was at...

I was super short compared to them and I hadn’t touched a Basketball since I’d left Spain. They thought I’d be terrible! BUT.. with the hundreds of hours playing with a home made ball & a laundry basket, picturing my moment on the court, running games through in my mind?

I proved them 100% correct. I was fucking abysmal. A complete embarrassment. Worse than anyone expected. Never played basketball again. Don’t follow your dreams, kids.

I should have tried Tennis.