I was in school to play basketball; I wasn't trying to be a

The words of Ben Simmons, spoken with youthful honesty and the raw fire of ambition, echo the eternal song of the dreamer: “I was in school to play basketball; I wasn't trying to be a doctor. It's hard to talk about the NCAA rules and everything that happened in the past because I've just been focused on practicing and getting ready... I was trying to reach my dreams, and that's to play in the NBA.” In this confession lies more than the voice of an athlete — it is the voice of one who has given his heart to a single vision. These words speak to the sacred conflict between duty and destiny, between the rules of the world and the call of one’s soul. They remind us that the path to greatness is not always paved with approval, but with devotion.

To understand the origin of this statement, one must look to the world that forged it. Simmons, born in Australia, rose through the ranks of youth basketball to become one of the most promising players of his generation. His journey brought him to the United States, where he joined Louisiana State University — not out of a scholar’s ambition, but out of an athlete’s necessity. The NCAA, guardian of college sports, imposed rules that bound young athletes to the institution, forbidding them to profit from their own talent, even as millions were made around them. Simmons, who already carried the weight of expectation, saw this structure for what it was: a cage that did not fit his purpose. His words, then, are not rebellion, but truth — the truth of a man who knew his calling and would not pretend otherwise.

“I was in school to play basketball.” In this simple declaration lies a profound understanding of purpose. Many walk through life wearing masks — pretending to chase one dream while secretly longing for another. Simmons did not hide his intention. He knew that his classroom was the court, his textbooks were his plays, and his education was in motion, precision, and will. The ancients would have honored such clarity of vision. For they taught that the soul is born with a calling — a daemon, as the Greeks named it — and that to betray this calling is the first sin against oneself. Simmons’ refusal to live another man’s path is thus not arrogance, but fidelity to the spirit within.

Yet, his words also reveal the burden of sacrifice that all who pursue greatness must bear. “It’s hard to talk about the NCAA rules and everything that happened in the past because I’ve just been focused on practicing and getting ready.” This is the lament of one who has chosen to focus not on politics or judgment, but on discipline. He speaks as the warrior who cannot afford distraction while preparing for battle. The world will always pull the dreamer toward compromise — toward explanation, justification, conformity. But the dreamer who truly believes cannot look backward; he must keep his gaze fixed on the horizon. In this way, Simmons’ silence about controversy becomes a form of strength — the strength to guard one’s energy for what truly matters.

History offers many such figures whose singular purpose brought them conflict as well as triumph. Consider Michelangelo, who, when ordered by the Pope to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, protested that he was not a painter but a sculptor. Yet he obeyed his deeper impulse — the artistic vision that burned within him — and from that surrender came one of the greatest masterpieces of all time. Like Simmons, he was misunderstood, criticized, and bound by forces beyond his control. Yet, through toil and focus, he transformed limitation into creation. Such is the way of all who follow their purpose: they do not escape hardship, but they turn it into art, into movement, into glory.

The lesson, then, is this: honor your dreams with sincerity, even when they do not fit the molds of society. The world will tell you to balance, to obey, to follow the safe path — but greatness is not born from safety. It is born from dedication, from hours unseen, from the courage to say, “This is who I am.” Like Simmons, you may be judged for it; like him, you may be misunderstood. Yet if your vision is pure and your effort unbroken, the result will speak for itself. For every soul has its court — the place where its light shines most brightly — and to deny that court is to live a half-life.

So, O listener, take these words to heart. Whether you wield a brush, a pen, or a ball, remember that your purpose is sacred. Do not measure it against the expectations of others; measure it only against the greatness sleeping within you. Like Ben Simmons, commit yourself wholly to the craft that stirs your spirit. Let the noise of the world fade into silence, and let your discipline speak in its stead. For when you live true to your dream, you honor not only yourself, but the divine intelligence that placed that dream within you. And in that fidelity, you too will touch the threshold of immortality — the place where purpose, perseverance, and destiny become one.