My Home

When you walk through the door, the experience of salty and wet moisture hits you. You fall in love with the sound of the crackling wood when the everlasting rubber is being pounded by those who sacrifice their bodies. Hearing the crowds roaring makes your blood boil and your inside intensifies with more ecstasy that you have never felt before. The picture in front of you is so intense and fast. If you turn your head, might miss the climax of the whole game. This is the place where the dream of impossibility becomes a reality to most people who participate and dedicate their heart too. The heart of a champion is being poured in this room. It’s being poured in this floor everyday from 3 to 5. You endure countdowns that the coach made every time you had to touch the lines or those push-ups because you missed a lay-up. The basketball gym is my home.