The story behind the work
I reached the highest levels of basketball. But success never made me immune to struggling.
I won national championships. I became an All-American. I played professional basketball. And during my playing career, I struggled with my mental game in ways I did not know how to manage. I had coaches for my shooting, strength, conditioning, and skills, but no one had ever taught me how to train what was happening in my head.
My story did not end when basketball did.
Years after I retired, my mental health struggles became much more serious. I experienced periods that resulted in psychiatric hospitalization.
Those were not mental-performance problems, and I think that distinction matters. But those experiences deepened my understanding of something I had been learning for years:
Being accomplished does not make you invulnerable. Being mentally strong does not mean never struggling. And getting support is not weakness.
Today, my work sits at the intersection of what I lived as an elite athlete, what I experienced after the game ended, and what I later studied professionally.
I teach athletes mental-performance skills because I want them to have tools I never had when I was competing. Not because those tools can prevent every struggle, but because young athletes deserve to understand their minds, develop skills for pressure, and know that struggling does not erase everything strong about them.