A HISTORICAL FEAT.
I recall it all started because impassioned Albanian fans belted whatever they could find at the players on the floor — lighters, bottles, rocks, whatever. Their chants were so loud. It seemed like the building was shaking. It was hard to even think, my head throbbed intensely. When the riot police flooded into the gym to restore order, you would think I would want to be escorted out — but nah man, I was taking it all in.
It was Game 5 — the final game of the Albanian Superliga Finals — and the building pulsated with energy. We had clawed our way back, after being down 0-2 in a best-of-5 series against the upstart Besidja Eagles from the local city of Lezhe. We were about to win 3 straight, and the national title after I hit a shot to put us up by almost 20 points late in the 3rd quarter; everyone knew what was about to happen — especially their fans.
Consequently, as we were being escorted by the police to the locker room, my teammates got even more amped. There was pounding on the walls, jumping, screaming, chanting — even an attempt to run back out onto the court. A fight nearly broke out because one teammate of mine had to be restrained from running out after the other teams and players. He was a native of the city we played in, Tirana, the capital of Albania, so the outcome of the series was a little more personal for him.
To be honest, I don’t quite know what he was screaming in Albanian; but despite being the smallest on the team, our strongest player, plus another teammate, had to restrain him from going to confront the bitter fans on the Eagles’s side.
As we waited for the police force and officials to resume the game, my coach continually repeated in both Albanian and heavily accented English, “Calm down and focus.”
But bro — who really could?
We were the first club in the history of Albanian sports to overcome an 0-2 deficit,
witnessed by a literal record-attendance crowd. And in a few minutes' time, I knew we would be unofficially knighted in Albanian sports mythology. We were about to be crowned champions.
Afterwards, we were walking rockstars in the country; news media, fans, bar owners, and nightclubs, all wanted to celebrate our feat. And even though I would embarrass myself by mispronouncing some Albanian on live TV a week later, the ultimate victory against our opponents was achieved. The legend of the 2022 - 2023 Tirona Neptun team was birthed.
WHAT COMES TO MIND WHEN YOU THINK OF THE WORD CHAMPION?
I’ve been dissecting the above question all summer. The cliche, “never give up” comes to mind; the medals, celebrations, and recognition do too. I think of the corny captions and swagged-out pictures we put up on social media. It’s all pretty dope, but surface-level when I actually evaluate the journey that led up to that title. There’s conflict. It’s not some rosy path where everyone holds hands. There are hard conversations.
There might even be lies about ripping your club’s jersey, depending on your level of self-respect.
With this in mind, when defining this specific title, the themes of relief, redemption — and most importantly, faith resound. This season was the hardest I’ve experienced. One of the reasons being, because within a month into it, my mind began to drift to a life outside of a basketball career. There were many moments of adversity. Moments of flat-out misery. I constantly looked at flights home, something I never would have imagined myself doing; I even began job interviews — before the first half of the season even concluded.
All that said, as noted above, this past season was a rather interesting one. And I’ll be quite frank: How the hell did I end up in Albania? You can see that story here.
So what comes to mind when I think of the world champion? I think of the themes, in which I exhibited during my particular journey, instead of the specific outcome that I accomplished. I also ponder on whether the ends in this situation actually justified the means. Would I be willing to suffer that much, to achieve another title? Or was this the ultimate achievement I needed, to feel like I could walk away from the game in peace?
Furthermore, when the final buzzer went off, I was relieved. It was sort of like the sentiments you saw Nikola Jokic express after he won this most recent NBA title. I knew the perseverance I displayed throughout the season wasn’t in vain. So that makes stepping away from the game a lot easier. I not only can say I did something that many professional basketball players only dream of, but also that I have nothing else to prove to myself in this industry.
HOW BAD DO YOU WANT IT?
So yeah, I enter this discussion with some Brett Favre retirement vibes. Is it time? Cause in some ways, I’m over it. My body sure is. A wise man once said: “To whom much is given much is tested,” Okay let me be honest, that’s a Kanye bar derived from a biblical verse, but at any rate, I can validate that statement. Be that as it may, what's success without the climb to get there? What’s day without a little night?
Despite the past few years of my life having moments of immense adventure and joy; I was continually plagued throughout this year by my unfulfillment from competing professionally and the instability of the industry I was in. Am I selling myself short by not finding a new goal? I've already done what I wanted to do in basketball, it's time for a new hustle. Jay-Z remarked when speaking on his transition out of rap:
Forget this rap s***, I need a new hustle
A little bit of everything, the new improved Russell
I say that reluctantly 'cause I do struggle
As you see I can't leave so I do love you
I could feel that throughout the whole season — my internal drive being tested like never before. How could I hold on throughout the season knowing my fulfillment level and thoughts were drifting to different places?
For example: my club at multiple times through the season was late with payments; it was frustrating because this is a usual occurrence in the overseas industry and realistically an engrained habit in a lot of Eastern European countries’ cultures. There is a casual laidbackness about payments. Still, I’m an American, and our business processes run a lot more thorough and efficient.
For instance, it got under my skin when I had to uncomfortably approach my coach before or after practice to ask for my money, always to the response in slow and heavy English: “It will come Kobi, I will talk to the general manager;” he’s a great guy — but dude, I’ve been hearing that same thing for 3 months!
Moreover, on my brisk 20-minute walks back to my apartment, through the long, damp, and mazelike alleyways of Tirana, past all the local farmers and vendors selling fresh fruit, I constantly ran through the scenario of booking my flight home; ultimately, to save myself the disappointment of not getting paid. I ignored a lot of vendor requests to buy their fresh fruit, eggs, and milk. I even ignored the persistent Roma beggars. The nagging thoughts and the Tame Impala playing in my ears kept me occupied.
In my head, I’m wrestling with the fact that I just got a Master’s degree. I knew I could continue to love basketball, but it could be on the side while pursuing some other career options, in which I spent many long hours studying and toiling over. And in those other options, I could get paid handsomely — on time.
Albeit, despite these questions arising, as any competitor knows: winning requires something of you.
Before the tip-off of any game this season, my thoughts go back to a daunting singular statement, that has single-handedly defined my career: How bad do you want it?
It doesn't matter what you’re feeling, there is a job that needs to be executed. Every time I lined up on the free-throw line with my teammates, across from our opponents, and the Albanian National Anthem rang through the air, the previous frustration and doubt I felt evaporated. The habits I created in the offseason began to take over. The deeper commitment and obsessiveness that makes both winning or losing that much more imperative takes over my mind. Whether it’s 38 minutes or 22 seconds left — I’m still gon’ give you everything I got. If you're not ready for smoke, go home. The workouts I suffered through during my offseason mentally prepped me for absolutely anything.
I know that guy across the line doesn't want it like that. I wanted to make them feel me. What’s another cocky import to me? Every time I lined up, it was that Lakers versus Celtics feeling. That 2Pac and Biggie type intensity; you just want it so bad, it never fails to satisfy you.
Specifically, I remember during the playoffs, it got really chippy; there was tons of trash talk, scuffles, technical fouls, elbows, and shoves.
Even so, more particularly during the Finals, I remember a guy jawing at me and putting his finger in my face. When the next shot went up, and the rebound came off — I totally laid him out. I later found out, he ended up having back spasms for the rest of the series. It’s important to add he was their best shooter too, so his limitations contributed greatly to their ultimate demise.
All that to say, I would never attempt to intentionally hurt anyone, but when I’m locked in to win, don’t ever forget that I’m coming for your neck — be prepared.
Conversely, as soon as I’d leave the court, my competitive euphoria would wear off and the questions crept back into my psyche.
Like every other professional athlete who has been in a similar position, prior purpose-driven questions afflicted me as the season progressed. Some answers I have, and some I don’t, but I’m gonna be rather blunt: I dealt with a lot of politics within my club this season.
I’ll reference Drake from his 30 for 30 freestyle with the fact that I truly felt like some higher-ups were conspiring to limit my effectiveness on the floor.
Don’t get me wrong, I have genuine love and respect for those in Albania that I competed with and for; yet, I’ll still subconsciously ask myself these questions for the rest of my life.
Questions like: How can you be yourself with your hands tied behind your back? How do you respond to not being heard? Despite all the success you’ve achieved, there’s an uneasy feeling that you’re forcibly being relegated to the abilities of those around you. Will you ever get over that mental hump and move forward? Or will you give in to the frustration and toss everything you love away over politics, unprofessionalism, selfishness, lies, favoritism, and miscommunication?
Moreover, how do you go from clearly being the club’s top performer to your stint with the team being moved in a state of abeyance? And to make it a little more ironic, the team, after icing you out for a good part of the season, and fining you; needing you to perform at your peak abilities with practically one hand in the Finals? (due to an injury I obtained from a dirty play in the first round of the playoffs). I felt like a piece of meat. Just a means to someone else’s goals — with a disingenuous regard for my well-being.
Feelings of unfulfillment and disinterest plagued me for months; my love for the game began like a cup full, so why did it seem like it was being poured out? Was it my own hand? Why was my childlike creativity and freedom being hindered?
When my character is misjudged, I don’t respond well. When what I stand for as a man is misinterpreted, the internal embitterment chews away at me. In the overseas business, or realistically any working environment, you’re supposed to smile and act like nothing happened. Will you give in to the shame that you feel? The resentment that lingers? The acrimonious meetings? Let it affect your game?
Man, I remember there was a minor incident in practice; it was totally unpremeditated, and an accident, but it happened between another player and myself — the club blamed me. So for a little over a month, most of my teammates didn’t talk to me or look me in the eye; yet these are the ones I’m supposed to be going to battle for every day?
All this is on top of the fact that the bangs and bruises you acquire during the season make it hard to walk after some games and practices.
Dude, those brisk 20-minute walks I was talking about earlier? They nearly doubled in time. It got to the point where I was listening to gospel music just to motivate myself to get back home. The perseverance and faith you’ve developed your whole life is tested — don’t back down.
SO THIS IS THE END?
People need to understand these thoughts because I often get puzzled looks when I tell almost everyone: I’m done.
Could I keep performing, playing, and training at a high level? Of course. I’m Jakobi Bonner — y'all know me; I’m surely not backing out of adversity. However, this game is just a mere stepping stone. I've done what I needed to do and proved that time and time again. I exceeded so many expectations — even my own — and allowed this game to take me to places that people can’t even imagine. I’ve laughed, cried, bled, and limped. Some losses have caused me sleepless nights; some wins have caused me to celebrate with no sleep — hahaha. I’ve embraced those who played with me, and umm maybe had a couple altercations here and there; but all together it was for love.
My first true love.
That love has prepared me for the next step, which I don't know. The same qualities that have made me who I am — Jakobi Bonner — will always be there. The good, bad, and ugly. I can only thank basketball. Every day it has revealed to me a piece of myself. I’ve been brought closer with friends for life, and also with the one and true living God. Maybe this won't be the end, I don't know.
Consequently, as alluded to above, since the beginning of the season I was conflicted with feeling like I'm robbing the world of my gifts outside of the game. I’m talented, I know I am. It's not this ephemeral thing, but even committing to playing professionally overseas was representing my ability to get down with the dogs if I really wanted to.
Some have even said I’m acting prematurely — blah blah blah — but I don’t think you realize how much I’ve given and sacrificed to this game. As a matter of fact, when I was out of a deal in Montenegro, I was willing to fund my own way across Europe for as much time as I needed to land another one.
To be transparent, the manifestation of that inner conflict goes like this: every time I go home I find myself wanting to come back overseas — and every time I’m playing overseas, I find myself yearning for a more stable life back home. Jay-Z epitomized this when speaking of his frustrations of leaving rap, hence the title: “ Man, it called me right back.”
So back to the original question: What comes to mind when you think of the word champion? It’s not giving in to those voices in your head. It’s leaning on your loved ones and friends when you feel hopeless and frustrated. It’s staying consistent and leaning on the habits you’ve cultivated over the years that have made you successful in the first place. Success isn’t an accident; how you do anything is how you do everything.
Winning a title and making history this year was monumental, but the title itself, wasn’t what was really worth it; the persistence and professionalism in which I carried myself — that is my ultimate accomplishment. These traits will carry me much further than a league title on my basketball resume ever can.
Furthermore, something specifically that helped was committing myself to the meditation that has carried me throughout my whole career. I placed myself mentally in a different environment where I could generate the euphoria of being the young goofy kid with goggles, tagging along with his older brother to pick up runs.
Now don’t get me wrong: there are no moral victories in this game. While there is deep satisfaction in knowing your cards didn’t fall into the right place and you tried your hardest, the late John Wooden once said: there’s winning and there’s misery. Who knows, maybe for the Eagles, getting to the Albanian Superliga Championship, paying off some refs, and then blowing a 2-0 lead may feel good, but even then — hahaha.
At any rate, I digress — during this time I constructed a personal purpose statement (that I won’t share publicly) that I know is the reason I live. So despite the tribulation at the time, I sat down and asked: Can I look at myself in the mirror at the end of the day and appreciate the efforts brought forward?
MIRUPAFSHIM.
All things considered, I originally started this blog feature back in late January 2023 with the title “screw this”. I was exasperated with basketball. Already exhausted from the debilitating nature of the overseas industry and really questioning the reason I was in the place I was in. I asked: Why God? *Kendrick voice.*
I sort of relapsed into my Durham sentiments, as can be seen here; but as I began to vet out my thoughts and frustrations, and look within — the context of this writing began to evolve.
My faith is ultimately what brought me out of this recent trial of unfulfillment and frustration. Faith in my purpose, and also my worth as a person and professional athlete. Faith can be interpreted differently by everyone. My identity as a Christian man and my relationship with Christ causes me to view it in a different light than others — and that is crucial to note.
Whatever you do in life, despite your religious or cultural affiliation, Faith is what drives us to do what we do day in and day out. It overcomes the pain and betrayal we feel when others have done us wrong. It overcomes the lack of self-esteem that looms when you feel you’ve let yourself and those around you down; the fear you might encounter from any imposing circumstance. It gives us redemptive grace; as seen when ultimately, despite everything that occurred this season — I was at peace when my team came out on top.
I often asked some of my Albanian friends the question: Why did you wake up? What drives you? Is simply doing your profession and providing for yourself all that matters? Or is there a deeper significance and reason for all our successes, trials, and daily grind?
So let's come back to the question: What comes to mind when you think of the word champion? You can’t even begin to respond to that without a sense of faith and direction.
But hey, I'm just a man with bad eyesight; and three lost retainers over the past three years — I don't have all the answers.
Nonetheless, I do know, that for all the places I’ve seen, and trials I've endured in my life, my faith and groundedness in my purpose have been the foundation of my outlook and perseverance.
Farewell Albania. Farewell, professional basketball. Balkan Kobra out. Or “mirupafshim” as the Albanians say ;)
