It’s easy to give up on a dream. Most people burdened by the weight of circumstances do. But with greater support for athletic dreams within a community, how many athletes would reach farther for longer?
Sport is a microcosm of life. Basketball, more than a game comprising a bounced leather-wrapped ball and two hoops, is a symphony of tussles, chances taken, shots missed, moments of victory, and bitter loss. It’s a court of emotion and exertion, where actions line up into habits which in turn pile into attitudes. These attitudes walk off the court with us and they shape the lives inhabited by all the same successes and frustrations we experience mid-game.
"Basketball is more than a game—it's a symphony of tussles, chances taken, shots missed, and moments of victory."
Kat Tan began her life while the Jordan era of the Chicago Bulls was in full swing, that glorious time when MJ was unstoppable and the television coverage of his games was a bit grainy. “Every morning, I remember the channel that was on our TV [...] either ESPN or Fox Sports,” says Kat. “That's why until now, I love watching sports”.
Not settled as a spectator, Kat enjoyed participating in sports and after navigating through a few came to a decision-point between tennis and basketball. “I decided I know myself,” says Kat. “‘I can play tennis. I know that already.’ But curiosity kind of led me to try out basketball [to see if I could do it.]”
Thin, little, “a tiny kid” in Kat’s words, joining De la Salle Zobel’s grade school varsity team proved just out of reach on her first try out. “The coach told me to come back and try out the next school year,” says Kat, “but unfortunately, months after that, the accident happened.”
In November of 1996, Kobe Bryant stepped on an NBA court for the first time–then the youngest player to appear in an NBA game. On the 20th of the same month, Kat was on a mini-roller coaster with her classmates when the seat they shared derailed. The 10-year old Kat landed on the railway and while conscious lost her left arm to the machinery of the ride.
Kat would go on to meet Kobe three times. In 2016, as part of his Mamba Mentality Tour, Kobe stood in front of the 24 basketball players who had made it through a series of challenges–challenges which whittled the participants down from 800 in number. He called for a participant to take a 3-pointer from the top of the arc; if it sank, no one needed to complete a run drill. If the shooter missed, they’d watch their 23 co-participants complete the excess cardio.
Kat stepped forward. She bounced the ball, caught it in the palm of her hand, cocked it back just above her shoulder as she bent her knees, and released the ball upward.
Swish.
Kat turned, punching her fist across her chest in celebration, revelling in the moment the internet would meet “The One-Armed Mamba.”
She probably didn’t imagine meeting Kobe, much less sinking a huge shot in front of him (absolutely swishing it no less) from the vantage point of her 10-year old self in an emergency hospital bed. But what Kat did have was the mindset–one that locked tightly on getting back hooping. That very Christmas, just a month after being rushed to the emergency room, Kat was hoping to find a basketball hoop under the tree–more like next to it.
Looking back on the conversation with Kat, one marvels at the Kobe-ness of it all. Kat took everything present in the situation she found herself in, felt the emotions fully, embraced her new experience of life wholly, and kept moving forward. She echoes Kobe’s attitude to balancing the game and his life as he wrote in The Mamba Mentality: “I wasn’t willing to sacrifice my game, but I also wasn’t willing to sacrifice my family time. So I decided to sacrifice sleep, and that was that.”
That was that. And with a hoop that did in fact arrive that December, Kat was back out on the court, invited by her friends, and was figuring out her new game.
“I sucked at it,” she laughs. “The first time I tried shooting on the real court--if you saw me do that, [you would] probably say, ‘this kid’s got no future in it.’”
"I sucked at it... if you saw me do that, [you would] probably say, ‘this kid’s got no future in it.’"
But while Kat slowly found the avenues within her body to get the ball in the bottom of the net, her mindset continued to surge forward. “Alam ko kaya ko. Hindi ko lang magawa physically, but I know in my mind, I can do it,” she says. “It's more of [...] trying to shift that kind of mentality para mapasa mo siya sa physically.”
Every day Kat was in front of a hoop, slowly configuring how she was going to keep playing the sport she loved. As the school year came around so did the tryouts for the varsity team. “I’ve got nothing to lose,” she thought. “I got rejected already. I got rejected with me having two arms and then if I get rejected again now [...] at least I know that I tried.”
Kat made the team.
Reflecting on that moment years later and re-connecting with her coach, Kat realised that it was the force of her spirit–her willingness to grit her teeth and figure things out–that got her there.
It wasn’t easy for Kat though. Many of the drills conducted within the team required both hands, but she refused special treatment.
“I don't want them adjusting to me,” she says. “I will try to figure it out. If I can’t, then I will tell you. That's the process of me trying to adapt not only on the court, but also off the court.” It’s the attitude that walks with Kat at all times–her own mentality that drove her to be the best basketballer she could be.
And she developed as a defensive player, specialising in trapping the opponent and nabbing the ball. Towards highschool Kat’s shooting form cemented and so she developed an accurate mid-range jumper which to date has evolved into a deadly 3-ball. She can pass with no-look flair that this writer wouldn’t attempt mid-game on their best day and revels in finding teammates with open looks at the bucket.
In these efforts, Kat shares that she has benefitted from immense support, motioning to the friends, teammates, classmates, and family who have been with her through the years playing basketball and now as she engages youth and adults alike as a motivational speaker. ”It [helps that] you're surrounded with the right people,” she says.
It’s similar to the support Kat receives on-court from her teammates. “One of the struggles of playing is bringing the ball,” she says. “It's easier for the defender to steal the ball from me so I need my teammate to do a screen or at least help me bring the ball [to half court].”
But Kat reflects that not everyone is so lucky as to receive this heft of support–and this extends beyond women, and differently-abled people who are competing. It extends to all athletes. As while Kat expresses that the support of family and friends for many people is a given, the support of people you don’t know is unmatched in its confidence instilling abilities.
“During my playing days di pa talaga ganun ka advertised ang basketball sa mga babae,” says Kat, ”so it was really hard for us.” She recounts the pains she took to fill up a roster of 15 women to comply with league requirements–with only eight or so from the team hosting knowledge of how the game is played. It’s easier now per Kat as recent generations have become more supportive of women in sports, and as journalists have picked up more women-led stories.
"During my playing days di pa talaga ganun ka advertised ang basketball sa mga babae... so it was really hard for us.”
In nationally competitive sports however there is plenty of room left to support our Philippine athletes. Just as dreams aren’t birthed overnight, the support of the nation needs to be behind our national teams from the early days. “I just hate the [idea] na kailangan meron kang mapatunayan ka muna bago ka suportahan ng tao,” says Kat. She motions that it’s at the very start of the journey, while an athlete’s confidence is still a seed, that athletes need the most support.
“Pag nandiyan ka na sa taas, hindi mo na alam kung sino talaga ang totoo,” she says. “That’s one thing that I want to change, na sana kahit yung mga athletes na nagsusstruggle sa simula ay makakuha ng supporta sa mga tao. Kundi man financially [...] at least yung support lang. Kasi, it’s a big help.”
Kat has no delusions of grandeur. She understands where she can be of help. She describes herself in just two words: simple girl.
But in the experiences she’s had, in the radical shift she’s had to make in her life, she’s found a voice which she uses to instil confidence in people.
“I've lived my life through some struggles,” she says, “and I am where I am today because of those struggles. You embrace all those things because [they’re] part of the journey [...]. Kasi, kung wala yung struggles na yon, hindi mo mabibigyan importancia yung mga bagay na dapat mo bigyan ng importancia.”
"You don't give limitations to people just because of their circumstance."
Respect is an important part of Kat’s message. “You don't give limitations to people just because of their circumstance,” she says. And as she continues balling on a daily basis–Kat goes head to head with plenty of men, crossing them, floating the ball right over them, and netting 3s with ridiculous accuracy defying defunct, antiquated expectations.
These nonfunctioning expectations have fallen into history, overshadowed by voices demanding respect for all athletes–all genders and all abilities. It’s our job to listen.
by Jaymes Shrimski
