A Letter to NBA GMs

Dear NBA GMs,

I want to talk about getting knocked down. Not just in basketball, but in life. 

I know you’re probably expecting me to use this letter to talk all about how great I am as a basketball player, but to be honest with you, I feel like I’ve done a ton of that over the past few weeks. You can only learn so much from people’s successes. It tells you nothing about what a person’s really like, or about all the things that make them truly worthy of being a high first-round pick. For me, everything in my upbringing, and how I’ve been raised by my parents, and all the experiences I’ve had to this point … all of that combined is what has enabled me to excel on the basketball court. It’s a huge part of what makes me the best point guard in this draft. 

So if it’s cool with you, that’s what this letter is going to be about. 

I want to share two stories with you from my past — things that happened at opposite ends of my life, basically — because I really do feel like there’s a lot to learn about me from those experiences. 

The first one … I guess let me just be direct here: It’s me getting run over by an SUV when I was four years old.

I can remember the accident, but I was too little to remember some specific details, so what I’m able to tell you about it mostly comes from what my parents have told me. 

I was with my family at my aunt’s house, outside playing with my cousin. My aunt lived on a cul-de-sac, and there aren’t too many cars that come through, so we were throwing this little rubber ball to one another across the street. At one point, I ran to get the ball, and there were two cars parked side-by-side on the street and … I couldn’t see that one of them was backing up right then. A neighbor told my mom at the time that he was out front and saw it all happening almost like it was in slow motion. He was trying to signal to the driver to stop in time. But….

I ended up running into the back door of this big Nissan Armada as it was moving, falling on my butt, and then … the back tire ran over my body, basically. Like right at hip level.  

All the kids playing outside ran in the house screaming and yelling for help. And we have a really big family, so my dad and mom, they were kind of used to hearing kids saying that something was “AN EMERGENCY!!!!!!!!!” and then it being nothing, but this time it was like….

“No. No! No!! For real!!! Help!!!! Kingston got run over.”  

My uncle scooped me up and immediately passed me to my dad. Apparently I wasn’t crying, I was just kind of like, “Ooooooh … Oooooh.” Just moaning, I guess. My parents both say the first thing they remember seeing were these huge tire treads on my pants. And the tracks were actually embedded into my hip, like into my skin, pretty much the entire width of my body. After seeing that, as my mom tells it, “Everyone went into Go Mode.”  

They raced me to the children’s hospital, and when the doctors initially took a look at me and saw that my belly was stretched out and had gotten really big, they were worried about internal injuries and bleeding. They told my folks that they weren’t equipped to handle the level of trauma they were seeing, so I had to be transferred to a Level 1 trauma hospital, and I guess that whole process took a few hours. I can’t imagine how worried my parents were, and how stressful it all was. In situations like that, obviously … every second counts. My mom and dad didn’t know if I had broken bones, or internal bleeding, or if I was ever going to be the same. 

Eventually the doctors were able to do a much more comprehensive examination and told my parents that when the tire rolled over my body, because I was so young at the time, and my bones were still so flexible, it actually bent some of the bones rather than breaking them. My bones weren’t hard enough to break yet. So, in that way it was actually a blessing how young I was.  

I did have a small hip fracture, and a small puncture on my spleen, though. My dad remembers how the doctors were actually worried most about toxicity and potential infections caused by the internal trauma. But the worst part for me, definitely … and this part I do remember … the worst part by far was the road rash. 

It’s a nasty burn on your skin that happens if you get dragged on the pavement. With me, I had that pretty much the entire length of my thigh, and then all the way across my hips. Even just moving a tiny bit would be agonizing. I ended up in the pediatric ICU for a day and a half, and then spent another day and a half recovering in the general pediatric unit. My parents talk about how at one point the doctor treating me was like: “He can walk. I promise you. It’s just super painful for him to do it.”

After I fought through that and was able to take a few steps, they sent me home.

I don’t really think about that accident too much anymore, but if you talk to my mom, she’ll absolutely tell you that the whole experience played a massive role in shaping the person I am today. 

Apparently, before that, I was a pretty shy little kid. Didn’t talk much, didn’t play a ton of sports. Just kind of quiet and chill. Then I get backed over by a car, and, to hear my mom tell it … it was almost like something out of a superhero comic book, where something dramatic happens to a person and they go through this huge transformation.  

My mom says that after the accident, even if I didn’t fully know it, I actually started acting like.… Life is short. It was like: Don’t take anything for granted. Don’t sit back and let life pass you by. So now, all of a sudden, I’m wanting to play every sport imaginable, and doing and saying everything I can.  

Again, I was four … so I don’t know. But she’s pretty persuasive on this whole theory. She says it was something internal, subconscious maybe. 

She always tells the story of her taking me to the grocery store a few weeks after the accident and every time we’d pass by some random person in the aisle I’d be like: “Mommy. Mommy!! Tell her about how I got run over!”

I don’t know about all that, but I will say there’s no doubt in my mind that the accident taught me a ton about how you need to respond to adversity, and adapt to whatever circumstances you’re faced with. I’ve absolutely made that one of my hallmarks on the basketball court. One of my biggest strengths as a player is definitely my adaptability. It’s something I pride myself in. I can play so many different ways, and change things up on a dime — game to game, midgame, whatever it may be. Any team that drafts me should know that for a fact. If you need me to play one way one year, and a different way the next … it’s all good. Need me to focus more on distributing during a certain game, or drive to the lane and hunt more baskets the next game? No problem.   

I can adapt to anything that’s thrown at me at any time. I can change my game in a ton of different ways. I’m easily the most adaptable player in this entire draft. And part of the reason why definitely goes all the way back to that accident when I was a kid. And how it impacted me.    

The other big thing I learned from that experience is that in this life you absolutely need to make the most of every opportunity you get. And if you get knocked down at some point — or run over by a big truck, or whatever it may be — dust yourself off, adapt to what happened as best you can, and then go out and live the rest of your life to the fullest. 

Just don’t leave anything in the tank, basically.

Which brings us to this past March. 

Houston vs. Illinois. No. 2 seed versus a No. 3. For a trip to the Elite Eight. 

Now, of course, sure, a lot has happened with me in between getting hit by that SUV as a kid and this season’s NCAA tournament. But, to be honest with you, like I said before … for the most part, all that stuff was by and large pretty good: I woke up early every day to get my shots up, hung out a ton with my family playing Phase 10 and doing escape rooms and whatnot, made some plays in big games, had the time of my life being a Houston Cougar, played pickleball with my friends. I watched my little sister become a McDonald’s All-American. Ate some good food. Nothing all that crazy. You’re not missing a ton. 

That Illinois game, though? March 26, 2026. (Yes, I do remember the date.) I feel like that was something different. 

I’m sure by now some of you have probably seen the clips of me after that game on social media. But when we lost that one … I broke down at the final buzzer. I had wanted to win so bad, and I was just completely spent. All the emotion right then, it all just came pouring out of me in real time, and I couldn’t help but shed some tears. 

In that moment … I wasn’t trying to cry. 

Or trying not to cry.

My body and mind just kind of took over. I’m not exactly sure what happened.

But I am sure about why it happened.

It’s because I care a ton. 

Obviously I was really upset that we lost. And that I could have played better. And knowing in that moment that it was going to be my last time playing with those guys ever? It just really hit me hard, you know what I mean? It was like: Even if I did come back, Emanuel and Milos and Ramon and Kalifa are all graduating. This is literally it. 

I felt that. For real. And the world saw the result of all those feelings welling up.  

And look, I’m not apologizing for that. I’m human. If that’s a problem, I’m honestly not sure what to say. At the end of the day, I just really, really, really want to win. So it’s probably never going to be tough to figure out how I feel if my team comes up short in a huge game.   

The bigger thing, though, in my view … is what happens next. After all that emotion poured out following that Illinois loss? After that 60 seconds or whatever it was? My parents raised me to know exactly what to do after that. Where to go from there.

First off, it was back to the locker room — compose yourself, give credit where credit is due, tip your cap to Illinois. That team outplayed us. They had a good game plan. So, you know … recognize that. Regardless of how bad a loss is, I don’t carry it into the next day.  

Then, after that, it’s all about assessing the whole situation. 

And, with me, that process is pretty ingrained. From a very early age, my dad and mom have encouraged me and my brothers and sisters to write down a list of goals at the beginning of each year on a piece of paper. Could be anything. Whatever you care most about. Things you’d like to accomplish. And then, the family way is … you go out and put in work to make those goals your reality.

If you don’t meet a certain goal? Well, then you take a step back and think about how you’ve done things and figure out how to get better and learn from the whole experience so you can achieve more goals down the line.

That’s basically how our family rolls in a nutshell. 

With this one … getting beyond the Sweet 16 and winning a national title was absolutely one of my goals on that sheet of paper for 2026. And, obviously, that one didn’t come to fruition. So then it becomes … OK, how do I get better?

And that’s what I’ve been focused on the past three months. Putting in work. Nonstop. And learning from everything I’ve been through.

Just consistently getting better. 

So, to close this out, I guess if I were to boil all this down, I’d just say to all the GMs out there…. 

If you call my name at the draft, you can be confident that you’ve added someone to your franchise who fully understands and appreciates the magnitude of the opportunity he’s been given. And someone who will do everything in his power to show that appreciation each and every day.

I absolutely know that time is precious. (I had the tire marks to prove it!) So I’m not coming to the NBA to chill. 

I’m someone who, from a very young age, had to deal with a life-or-death situation, and learned the importance of being resilient and adaptable. With me, you’re going to be getting someone who relishes the opportunity to be a leader on the basketball court. Someone who prides himself in getting to know everything there is to know about all of his teammates — where they like to receive a pass, their favorite spots on the court, what specific words of encouragement are most likely to spur them to go on a heater, everything — so that I can best support them and set the entire team up for success. 

I can shoot the lights out, and you already know that I am faster up the court than everyone else you’ve scouted in this draft. But all that stuff … you can tell that from pulling up YouTube. What you can’t tell from my highlights, and why I wanted to write this letter, is more about what’s on the inside. About what you’d be investing in with me. From pretty much the time when my bruises first healed up from that accident, I’ve been looking to challenge myself and work as hard as I possibly can and lift people up and make everyone around me better in every way. The more I think about it, I’ve just been trying to do what my parents have always done for me and my siblings. To be almost like a junior version of them.

As crazy as it sounds, I kind of feel like I first became the life equivalent of a point guard at the age of four. 

And that everything from that moment on has been about honing those skills and attributes to prepare me for this exact moment in time. 

Now, I’m looking to live out my dream and become the point guard I was always meant to be for the next couple of decades and win a bunch of O’Brien Trophies for whichever team sees something special in me. I know that with dedication and determination, with discipline and a routine, I can become a hall of fame player one day. 

So, yeah … that’s the goal. 

I’m writing it down on a piece of paper as we speak.