My Mom always loves telling the story about my first word. Well, it necessarily isn't a story but she always makes it longer than it normally should be. She loves to say Ali's first word wasn't Mom, it wasn't Dad, but it was ball. When I was little my parents bought me the Fischer Price basketball hoop. From what I have been told I used to play on it all the time. Sometimes they would take me away from it and I would throw a huge fit. I would just kick and scream until they let me go back to playing with it. It was by far my pride and joy at the age of like four.
Right at that age of four, my parents realized that I was going to be an athlete. They knew I enjoyed throwing the ball up at the Fischer Price basketball hoop (even though I rarely ever made it), so they decided to let me play YMCA basketball. They realized how happy it made me to just go out on the court and run around, dribble, pass, and shoot the ball. When I was talking to my Mom about my YMCA experience, she told me that it wasn’t until half way through the YMCA season until she had “caught the drift.” Both her and my Dad finally realized that I was going to be a basketball player. And in their eyes, I was going to be a very good one.
Right at that age of four, my parents realized that I was going to be an athlete. They knew I enjoyed throwing the ball up at the Fischer Price basketball hoop (even though I rarely ever made it), so they decided to let me play YMCA basketball. They realized how happy it made me to just go out on the court and run around, dribble, pass, and shoot the ball. When I was talking to my Mom about my YMCA experience, she told me that it wasn’t until half way through the YMCA season until she had “caught the drift.” Both her and my Dad finally realized that I was going to be a basketball player. And in their eyes, I was going to be a very good one.
