Two years ago, my older brother told me about Anthony Edwards.
He’s been a die-hard NBA fan since the Jordan era. Grew up with Allen Iverson posters on the wall. These days, he’s a church pastor who still trades basketball cards like a kid. Ant Man is his latest obsession. He even has a shelf at home where Ant’s cards sit like trophies.
When I visited him in Canada, he showed me the collection.
I didn’t know much about Anthony Edwards back then. But the way my brother talked about him made me curious.
I started watching interviews. Highlights. Sometimes a live game when I could. But mostly the interviews. The way Ant carried himself stuck with me.
He spoke with the kind of confidence that could easily sound cocky if you missed the heart underneath. He respected the game. He respected people. He just never once doubted who he was.
At the time, I wasn’t feeling great about myself. I didn’t realize it, but I needed someone like him.
When Ant faced Kevin Durant in the playoffs, someone he looked up to and idolized, he didn’t flinch. He played like he belonged. Watching that gave me something I didn’t know I was missing.
I don’t play basketball. But Ant taught me something real. You can admire the greats, and still become one yourself.
You just have to believe it first.