He thinks he’s going to go overseas somewhere and just… ball out (ie, play really well and be an impact player). But he doesn’t realize it don’t work that way.

A fellow pro player was telling me about his younger cousin, a college player who wanted to become a pro soon. The three of us had been in the gym working out all week. The fellow player’s cousin wasn’t as on-point or on-time as us in getting to the gym and staying in the gym; and to me, he didn’t pass the eye test: there was nothing distinguishable about his on-court game that made him pro-level.

I was super-athletic, my friend could shoot the lights out. The cousin could shoot and dribble and score, but not any better than anyone else I’d seen. I mean, players who never play a second overseas can dribble and score.

What’s more, the cousin had this air about him as if he felt his game was standout-level. It wasn’t, which was what made him the type you can’t really talk sense into; time would have to show him.

This all happened back in 2009. Time did show him.

Today is about the key trait that separates the people who get paid for being good from the people who are just good alone: preparation.