This kid I knew, play bball everyday.
He dreamed of getting drafted into the NBA.
He could do anything, from a jumper to a finger roll.
Having a championship ring was engraved in his soul.
If he bricked, he'd be right there for his own rebound.
He was always making himself better, never sitting around.
I played him and he burned me like he was a flame.
But he never was cocky, he'd always say good game.
Every time he tried out, he made the team.
He was getting check out by scouts, looking to start his dream.
They needed to let him grow cause he was in 8th grade.
His mom watched in the front row, she was afraid.
His team got happy when he'd set up the game winning play.
He was in the middle of the celebration melee.
Years went by and now he's eighteen.
The scouts asked him if he would enter the draft of 2004.
For him, they had opened another big door.
But instead he decided to become a marine and go to Iraq.
No surprise he passed camp cause there were no skills he lacked.
10 days later, 10,000 more troops were sent to deploy.
Just year ago he was a little boy.
And like all little boys, he had a dream.
Now he was here apart of a different team.
He's still in Iraq fighting for the U.S.
Even though he isn't playing ball, he's still the best.
