Maybe it's my fault. Maybe I led you to believe it was easy when it wasn't. Maybe I made you think my highlights started at the freethrow line, and not in the gym. Maybe I made you think that every shot I took was a game winner, that my game was built on flash, and not fire. Maybe it's my fault that you didn't see that failure gave me strength, that my pain was my motivation. Maybe I led you to believe that basketball was a God given gift, and not something I worked for, every single day of my life. Maybe I destroyed the game, or maybe you just making excuses.

Maybe it’s my fault. Maybe I made you believe the crown is handed out, and not ripped away. Maybe I made you think the bright lights of the pro league just turn on for anybody who wants them bad enough. Maybe I let you think my name on a jersey is just luck, and not thousands of hours in empty, dark gyms while the rest of the world slept. Maybe I made you believe that reaching the top was a destiny, and not a war fought every single morning. Maybe it’s my fault you only see the glory and not the grit. That you see the rising star, but missed the bruised knees, the aching muscles, and the relentless grind it took to build him. Maybe I let you believe that I was born to stand at the peak, instead of realizing I carved every single step into the mountain with my own hands. Maybe you think I’m just dreaming of turning pro. Or maybe you just haven't realized yet... I’m coming to take everything that’s mine.