It's funny how when an organization says they no longer want you as a part of their team, they say, "You've been waived", and not the more widely used phrase of being "cut". And, of course they don't tell you you've been thrown away, deemed not good enough, divorced, or forgotten; which despite the verbiage used, is exactly what it feels like.


I got one of those calls today from the GM/Head Coach of the Atlanta Dream. It was a call I had been expecting; I actually figured out it was coming two or three days ago. There were a few things that kind of clued me in. The first sign was when Coach stopped looking at me and correcting me in practice about three days ago. Then when we had our team dinner at the owner's house on Tuesday night, and the routine interactions with people I had been around for the last year all of the sudden seemed forced and fake, I knew something was up. And before our preseason game yesterday when the ticket girl had the nerve to get an attitude with me because I asked her to do her job, it was confirmation that the other staff didn't think I'd be around long either (I wanted to slap her...I mean I may not be on the team much longer but who are you...do your job and get me a parking pass and my tickets...ok, maybe that was rude and I didn't really say that to her, but I knew things weren't looking good and was not in the mood to be disrespected by anyone, let alone her). The final straw was when I only played a total of three minutes in our lone preseason game last night. I barely even had time to mess up either time I was on the court! So ya, after the game, I said my goodbyes and got my mind right for the "you've been waived" call that I knew would come the next morning. I actually wanted to go start packing right then. But I instead went home, cried, tried to appreciate my man's valiant effort to make me feel better, and finally fell asleep around 3 a.m. Right now my eyes look a hot mess, but I'm definitely in better spirits today than last night. We can only cry for so long because it doesn't change or solve anything.


You know, athletes a lot of times get a bad rap for their inaccessible, separate, and elitist attitudes. But you have to understand that in some ways it's a defense mechanism; a small and mostly futile attempt to shield ourselves from heartbreak in this frequently transient business. No matter how much people say that when you get to the pro level it's a job, it's really so much more than that. Sport is life. The city you play in becomes your home, and your organization and team in so many ways become you family. And when they decide they don't want you, it feels like a divorce. Like you put all of your time, effort, intensity, focus, and love into something and despite your best efforts, it just didn't work. And when you get out of a relationship like that, the last thing you want to do is jump right into another one; take all of your everything and immediately throw it into a different relationship. But that's what athletes do. We go from one team that we gave everything to, straight to another team that we have to give everything to, or we will end up "waived" for a second time and out of a job once again. It's the life we have chosen, and it's wonderful in so many ways, but sometimes it straight up sucks.


So what happens now? Short answer: I don't know. Hopefully there is another team that will bring me in and give me a chance. But that's the most frustrating thing about the game last night: Atlanta knew they weren't going to keep me, yet they didn't give me the opportunity, even though it was just a preseason game, to play and show other teams anything. I know it's a business, but I feel like I at least deserved that opportunity, that respect. But hey, Atlanta is a wonderful franchise that has done so much for me when they didn't have to, and I would never hold this one little transgression against them. I thank them from the bottom of my heart for everything they have done!


I also thank all the fans and twitter friends for their support. It is much appreciated. Whatever comes next, I will not lose my heart or my spirit. God has given me too much to quit now. And whether it is on the court or off it, I know I'll be successful. So now I'm sitting here patiently, quietly, and productively, waiting for God to work - and for my wonderful agent Boris to let me know about opportunities with other teams - haha. I'll keep y'all posted.