I was beyond broke before I left for college. I wanted to train at a really nice gym as I prepared for preseason, but that just wasn’t feasible. Rain or shine, I ran at “the track” at Oval. You can’t see it, but it wraps around this field. The track is merely a misshapen circle made up of dirt and rocks, but I ran it anyway. Because there was no way of gaging how long the track was, my accurate distance running came from the treadmill in the Pride and Power Fitness Room at the Civic Center. I did my weight training in there too; Steven was my spotter (thanks bro). I set my agility ladder out on the small patch of grass in front of the PPFR and did my drills in between reps. When I needed to do ballwork and sprints, I would walk to Branch Brook and get busy wherever there was room. I disappointed a lot of people going D2 after having been a D1 recruit in high school. I had verbally committed to La Salle, but changed my mind before signing my NLI. I knew the atmosphere in Boca Raton, FL would be the opposite of what I would’ve experienced in Philly at La Salle: Few minorities, 100% wealth, and people whose minds were on a permanent vacation. Those factors added to my focus. They added to my grit. I just wanted to pay homage to all of my pain. If I was going to be amongst the elite, sticking out like a sore thumb, I wanted my presence to be purposeful. I had a HUGE chip on my shoulder then, and it’s still here today. #189Series

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