So, here we are on the first Monday where the sports news cycle is quiet. There’s nothing to talk about. I’ve been in sports my entire life. Mondays are busy. We tell stories. We rehash. We recap. We review. We critique. We preview. And we do it all over again and again and again. 

But not today. 

And that feels strange. 

So, here I am listening to music by myself in my home office. Just me. I imagine you’re reading this in a  similar setting. 

Strange. So damn strange. 

Here we are, the first Monday without our muse. Luckily, our sports haven’t died. But they’ve gone away for a while. We’ve not been able to say a proper goodbye and that hurts. 

I’ve heard this phrase of “sports is a place where we go to escape. It is a place to get away from the craziness of reality.” 

But is it really an escape? I can’t speak for you, the reader, but I go to sports to live. Sports isn’t our place not to get away. No, not at all. This is our home, our safe place. We go there to find comfort. We go there to connect. We go there to grow. 

Right now that sacred place is put on hold, like so many other things. The endless and infinite sports media outlets are replaying moments that we’ve held in our memories. That helps. Kind of. Not really. 

It isn’t the same. 

There are a lot of questions and answers are harder to find than toilet paper right now. “I don’t know” is the answer and that answer just doesn’t give your a lot of hope. So, I find myself going back to a question that I tend to ask myself in times like this. 

What is my why? 

Why do I love this game? I never played at a high-level. I never coached at a high-level. But I’ve been fortunate to be a story-teller in my career and now a gatherer of other hoopheads, thousands of them. I love that role I play now in this part of my life. 

I’m the oldest of six kids. There are five boys in our arm of the family tree. We all hooped. We all love the game. We love competition. 

One of my brothers also works in basketball. He works for a team in the NBA and when his game is on, we have a family text thread. More times than not, that three to four times a week conversation that links all of us together is never really about basketball. It serves as a moment for us all to stay connected. We live in a collective five states and internationally. The game truly brings us all together. That’s why.

There was a moment when I was coming down the escalator at the Georgia World Congress Center during our Best of the South event back in July that left me awe. 

There was our brand, our small locally-owned and operated brand, in downtown Atlanta at a mega meeting place. People by the thousands, from over 30 different states, were making their way to our giant party in the middle of Atlanta, the capital of the South in the middle of hot and humid July. 

When I reached the middle of humanity, an old Atlanta hoop head stopped me, thanked me and told me they’ve never seen anything like this before in their life. My friend is in his 60s. He thanked us for pulling this off. I couldn’t help but smile. I still smile when I think about that short interaction. 

That’s why. 

Rewind to 17 years prior to that, I was on that same escalator during the Final Four in Atlanta and I ran into my high school basketball coach, a man who I viewed as one of the most important mentors in my life. I went to the Georgia Dome with the giant Texan, who was there for the festivities, and we sat there and watched practice for an entire day. 

I told him that I was about to go work for this company called rivals.com, on the internet. That blew his mind. I told him that my little brother that he would always ask me about was playing in college now. I was so proud. Little did I know that I’d be back there, running my own event and calling my brother, who is coaching in the NBA now, to tell him about it. 

So, what’s my why? My why is because this game is a thread of my family’s story and hopefully for generations to come. I know this game is the same for you and for your family. I know because I see it every single weekend. 

I see dads coaching their sons. I see moms with the halftime sprint to the bench for that extra cold bottle of water. I see little brothers and sisters running down the baselines. I see your out-of-town relatives rolling deep on a Sunday morning. I see that one uncle encouraging the refs. 

I know this game is a thread in so many families lives. That’s why it hurts. That’s why we are all just hoping this is a bad dream. So, let’s all hang in there together. Let’s tell the stories. Let’s text our family members, our teammates, our coaches, our friends. 

Let’s talk about the game. Let’s keep it alive. Let’s keep loving it for what it is to each one of us. Let’s talk about our why. 

If I’ve learned anything over the years about this game - the ball always bounces back up. It always does.