Imani Boyette’s 2017 WNBA goals: A little fear is good for the soul

I’m going to tell you guys a secret. My biggest fears in life are change and failure.

Ironically, in my profession these are two constant themes. Change is everywhere: players get cut or traded, coaches move or get fired. And failure, well—failure is something you learn to search for. If you’re failing, it’s because you are continually trying to be better at something you’re not good at or attacking obstacles that are challenging. On the other side of failure is success, growth, and greatness. I would like to think that success, growth, and greatness are the things we are all searching for in life.

Honestly speaking, I should be a lot better than I am. But the work ethic came late to me. It was never a matter of working hard, when I did go to work out and to practice, I worked hard. I focused. It was a matter of will.

I took solace in the what if, in knowing that if I didn’t succeed it was because I simply didn’t try hard enough. I made a home in my potential. That’s probably why I wasn’t an All-American in college. It’s easier to know you are in control of your circumstances than to admit that you can only try your hardest and rest in the fact that you’ve given your all, no matter the outcome.

I’ve done a good job of trying to overcome these fears. I changed my work ethic, began working harder and putting in the time necessary to be great. But sometimes, it creeps up on me.

Basketball is an evolutionary game. It is imperative that you come back each season with a new skill set or an improvement upon the skills that got you to where you are. I work on new things with my trainer but I’m always scared to try them in real action.

As if entering my second year in the WNBA wasn’t already nerve-wracking enough, I also have a new coach and new system. My new coach asks me to do things I’m uncomfortable with daily—driving to the basket, guarding fours—and I’m forced to confront that fear of failure.

And then there’s dribbling. I spent my entire career learning how to score with none or minimal dribbles. In high school? I was literally told not to dribble. At all. That’s all changed now.

We only played two preseason games, and while I wasn’t happy with my performance in either, the first game was hard. I felt like I was invisible and the stat sheet agrees with me. I spoke with my high school coach (current Connecticut Sun assistant coach Steve Smith) after the game and he reminded me of why he’s been one of the most influential men in my life. He reminded me that I can’t control everything and that I can’t be so scared to fail that I never try anything either.

I have lofty goals for this season, as well as mild expectations from the outside world. So, I went into that first preseason game with all of that at the front of my mind. I played tight, meaning I was so nervous that I would do something bad that I did nothing at all.

We can’t let fear paralyze us. We can’t be so scared that we refuse to move, to try new things, to reach for higher ground. With that in mind, the second preseason game I didn’t meet my standards but I did much better.

I think I’ll do better when we open at Minnesota on May 14. And if I don’t, I acknowledge that it’s part of the process. The process will not always be easy or pretty or exactly how I planned it but it’s worth it. There’s a reason only a few are great. Hopefully one day I’ll be one of them.