When I was around 7 or 8 years old, my parents bought me a basketball. The moment I dribbled it for the first time, I instantly felt like I had discovered my dream. But reality hit hard—I couldn’t even dribble the ball for a straight 10 seconds without control! Determined, I practiced every day in the car porch.
I can’t remember why, but I stopped playing basketball. However, when we relocated to Johor, my dream came rushing back. I asked my parents to buy me a new basketball, and when my mom saw how passionate I was, she even found a coach to train me.
The coach was amazing! He gave me my first jersey, and I chose the number “11.” Unfortunately, it was red, which I didn’t really like, but hey, it was still special. On my first day of training, I was super nervous, but my coach turned out to be really funny—and so was his assistant, who I called the “little coach.”
We started with simple layups. When I made my first basket, I immediately looked at my parents and saw them smiling proudly. That gave me the confidence to keep going. During breaks, which my coach called “shooting rests” (where we practiced shooting from the foul line), we took turns making shots. I still remember one time the little coach jokingly called it “coconut lunch” instead—it was hilarious.
At first, throwing the ball felt impossible because it was so heavy for me. The coach noticed my struggle and asked the little coach to show me the correct shooting technique. They teased me about my original style, which they called “the bomb 💣” (definitely not the right way). They told me to stand closer to the rim, but even then… let’s just say no shots went in that day.
When I turned 10, my coach told me I had improved the second fastest in the class, which felt amazing. By the time I was 11, he wanted me to join my first real competition. I was excited but also nervous. When we saw our opponents, we were stunned—they were gigantic! Predictably, they got the ball first and scored again and again. We lost miserably.
But that loss didn’t break me—it fueled me. Failures push me forward, and that’s why today, on January 4, 2025, I’m writing this story. Over the years, I’ve gained my coaches’ trust, and my little coach always cheered me on. He became my favorite because he was so supportive and even said goodbye to me every time I went home after practice.
Sadly, he left the class to study at university in Kuala Lumpur. Even though he visits occasionally, I still miss him. He truly was the best little coach.
Now, I’ve mastered:
– Three-pointers
– Two-pointers
– Layups
– Spin moves
– Crossovers
– Back crosses
– Fake moves
– And more (I’m not sure what some are called, though!)
I feel ready for whatever challenges come my way. My dream is still alive, and I’ll keep working to make it come true.
