After watching my Arizona State Sun Devils defeat the hated Wildcats last weekend, and seeing 7’2” Jordan Bachynski learn how to dominate a game as a big man, it got me to thinking: How would my life have been if I were that tall? This story is written in the present time; however, the only difference is that in this story, I’m 7 feet tall and am imagining how my life would be. 

It was another hard day of practice, and so far I’m just not fitting in on the Oklahoma City Thunder, my third team in as many years. After knee surgery last year, I still haven’t fully regained my speed that I had coming out of college four years ago. My standout career at Gonzaga being a distant memory now, I’m just trying to be able to stick on one team and contribute.

Practice was hard because “Perk” (Kendrick Perkins) is physically manhandling me down low. Despite the fact that I’m taller than him by about 2 inches, he has about 25 pounds of pure muscle on me. Try as I might (and I’ve done everything short of taking steroids), I just can’t put on any more muscle, and it’s killing me in games and practice. I’ve been able to get into a few games this year, averaging about 2.2 points per game and only 1 rebound in about 11 minutes of playing time a game.

I’m extra distracted today based on the fact that we’re playing the Suns tomorrow night. I grew up loving KJ and Barkley, and the Suns were the reason that I started even playing basketball in the first place. I’m focusing on the matchup I have at hand that next night, with Marcin Gortat, the center for the Suns, but I know no one is focusing on me. So far the only reason anyone even knows my name in the NBA is because it’s the same as a famous former center (David Robinson) and because I was the victim of Blake Griffin’s fury back in January. The dunk is still played over and over, and Perk is just glad that I had subbed in, otherwise it would have been him.

I leave practice and head back to the hotel/apartment in which I live. As I’ve been bouncing around from Toronto to Charlotte and now to Oklahoma City, I haven’t been able to even really find a place to sign a lease. While my NBA contract is good ($750,000 a year) by normal standards, it’s down near the bottom of NBA salaries. Fortunately for me, I don’t have too much to buy. Family and relationships are not easy when you’re constantly on the road every day, and outside of my PlayStation and Xbox, I don’t have much else that I can buy now to carry with me on the road.

When I first got into the league, teammates always wanted to go out and party after practice at night, and head to the best club in whatever city we were in. Being young and rich, we’d buy up the bar for a night and then leave when we were done. We were always the center of attention for not only the height, but for the popularity (I mean…have you seen James Harden’s beard?? He’d get noticed even if he wasn’t in the NBA). I’m well past that now, as I want to focus on becoming the best player I can be, so I load up the DVD of our last game against the Suns and see where I went wrong. Nash abused me and broke my ankles on a switch toward the middle of the game, and it ending up getting me yanked quicker than normal. How can I stop that from happening next time? I decide to see if next time I’ll flash towards Nash to stop his drive, and then not switch the coverage…maybe the less I guard him, the less chance I’ll get embarrassed.

After watching the tape, I get restless and head down to the practice facility to put up some jump shots. Really, the only thing keeping me in the league at this point is my rebounding and decent outside shot for a 7’ guy. I’m no Dirk, but I am effective when Kevin Durant drives and needs an outlet. 100 shots down in about 40 minutes and I’m exhausted…despite the fact that It’s only 10 p.m. I pack up, head home, take a shower and hit the hay, ready to do it all again the next day.

(Now I’m writing this as I’m my 6’ tall person again)

When I thought of this idea, I immediately imagined the NBA stardom, Starting center, best player in the league, all-star game, all of that. But I realized that sometimes looking at the lives of the guys on the fringe might be just as interesting. My 7’ tall self knows that he wants to continue in the league, but it’s not nearly as glorious as it was meant to be. I’m learning in life that your situation surrounding you doesn’t always make you happy; it’s what you do with it that makes you happy. 7’ tall “me” might seem to have an easier life, but each life comes with unique challenges. So while this was fun to imagine going up against Perk and Durant every day in practice…I think I’m going to still be plenty happy being David Robinson, operations associate at Charles Schwab.