I anticipate the thrill of the season. A swish. The sound of the net contorting itself to the rough, used skin of the ball, making my hair stand on end. Sweat beads form in a splattered pattern like a lotus root across my forehead. In a swift manoeuvre, they make their way to my eyes like a hunter stalking its prey. The scent of new sneakers that make more than unpleasant sounds against the floor, those familiar sound of the rubber soles that grind against the concrete or hardwood floors matches the rhythm of my heartbeat. The deafening silence of the loud buzzer and the rush of adrenaline as the crowd watches in anticipation when a single shot decides the outcome of hard work.

I’ve lived for more than five years in two places. The first is Sri Lanka, a country of rich heritage and vibrant beaches where I was born and raised until the tender age of eight. Somehow, I still manage to speak, read and write Sinhalese fluently. I moved to the UK for six years with my mother for her MSc/PhD, and I returned to Sri Lanka for my sophomore year. Sri Lanka and the UK couldn’t be more different. The humid climate that makes the back of my shirt that cling for dear life, the smell of the spices from the Kottu stalls that float through the air without restraint, the irregular sound of a Tuk-Tuk engine and traffic that entertains more than unpleasant thoughts. The cold crisp air that bites like a rabid animal, the pitter-patter of the feet of wild rabbits, the bustling city moving on its day as in a time-lapse video, the buses wade as large animals do with authority through nonexistent traffic.

In Brighton, I joined the basketball team at school were within a few months I became the captain, and later the school Head Boy. It wasn’t that I was a particularly outstanding player, but I could lead the game and inspire my teammates. I was then scouted to play for the Brighton Cougars Basketball team. I lived on campus at the University of Sussex where there was a small half-court made of concrete, where the net resembled chainmail. Here, I was a little kid fighting for my place among adults. I experienced fast growth because of playing against opponents twice my size. Even though I would lose terribly, I’d always get back up and ask for a rematch, losing track of time. I would end with free throws, making it a habit, and I would focus on everything, the sound, the smell, the feel, then I would close my eyes, lift my arms, get on my toes and reach as high as I could, hoping there would be enough spin on the ball as well as height. What greeted me was a swish.

In Brighton, I joined the basketball team at school, where within a few months I became the captain. It wasn’t that I was a particularly outstanding player, but I could lead the game and inspire my teammates. I was then scouted to play for the Brighton Cougars Basketball team. I lived on campus at the University of Sussex where there was a small half-court made of concrete, where the net resembled chainmail. Here, I was a little kid fighting for my place among adults. I experienced fast growth because of playing against opponents twice my size. Even though I would lose terribly, I’d always get back up and ask for a rematch, losing track of time. I would end with free throws, making it a habit, and I would focus on everything, the sound, the smell, the feel, then I would close my eyes, lift my arms, get on my toes and reach as high as I could, hoping there would be enough spin on the ball as well as height. What greeted me was a swish.

In my Sri Lankan home, there is also a concrete court with a hoop. I am usually accompanied by my dog who watches in curiosity while I train. Out of habit, I move to do my free throws at the end of training; I go through the motions and I am greeted with a swish.

I reflect upon this moment and I think back to the time I had on the Brighton court. I see that yes, they may have been different places, but the feelings are the same – the same rush, the same drive, the same goal, the same swish. The only thing that changes is me and my perspective, and I smile. I’ve learned to enjoy what I have in front of me and pay attention to the small things in life.

With this midset I prepared tirelessly for the tournament in Amman, Jordan. This is the year where I put all I learnt to the test and prove my resilience and capability as the selected team captain.