After getting cut at nine, I was crushed. But my older brother, Marlon, had just signed his first pro contract for Toronto Italia Shooters. Instead of letting me sulk, he did something incredible. Every day for the next four years, he trained me. Rain or shine, early mornings, long evenings—he pushed me, corrected me, challenged me, and refused to let me quit.
From ages 9 to 13, I spent 5 to 8 hours a day training like a professional. My brother became my personal coach, designing drills, tracking my progress, and holding me accountable. While other kids were playing casually after school, I was building the foundation for a pro career—footwork, fitness, technique, mindset. Every repetition mattered.
This shows something crucial: talent alone isn’t enough. Commitment and relentless work make the difference. Having someone who believes in you and pushes you—even when it hurts—is how champions are made. Pain and disappointment can either stop you or fuel you; I chose fuel.
By the time I was 13, I wasn’t just a kid who got cut from a team—I was a player transformed. My brother’s guidance, our daily grind, and the sacrifices we made together taught me that dreams are earned, not given. That commitment, started at age nine, set the stage for everything that came next.