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 free throw 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 did not 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’re just making excuses.