June 5, 2026
Toronto basketball has come a long way.
There are more opportunities, more exposure, better facilities, more trainers, more prep schools, and more pathways to play at the next level than ever before. Toronto has earned its reputation as one of the top basketball hubs in North America for both men's and women's basketball.
But despite all the growth, something feels off.
When I returned home after my collegiate career and stepped into the coaching space, I noticed a shift. The game seemed to be moving away from development and toward promotion. Everyone was focused on the next offer, the next showcase, the next highlight reel, and the next social media post.
I found myself thinking, "There’s more talent than ever before, but why does it feel like there still isn’t enough?" Not because athletes aren't working hard, but because the level of development isn't always consistent across every stage of the athlete pathway. Toronto has talent, but it's concentrated in pockets.
The business of basketball was growing, but athlete development wasn't always growing with it.
Nevertheless, I believe somewhere along the way, development became secondary to exposure. Relationships became transactional. Young athletes became products to market rather than people to mentor.
And while today's athletes have more opportunities than my generation ever did, I'm not convinced they're receiving more guidance.
Exposure can open doors, but development is what prepares you to walk through them.
And This Is Where I Find Myself Conflicted. As A Coach And Business Owner, I Understand The Realities Of The Industry. Building A Business Is Difficult. Competition Is Real. Growth Requires Strategy, Marketing, And Sustainability. At the end of the day, we're all trying to make a living while providing a valuable service to athletes and families and here is nothing wrong with that. But somewhere along the way, the business of basketball started to outweigh the purpose of basketball. As corny as it may sound, we've lost sight of the love of the game.
I believe the business of sport/business should be personal. When everything becomes a transaction, it's easy to forget the people behind the athlete. We lose sight of the responsibility we have as coaches, mentors, and leaders to help young people grow not just as players, but as human beings.
The best coaches I ever had cared about me beyond basketball. They challenged me, supported me, and invested in my development both on and off the court. That's the standard we should be striving for.
Because at the end of the day, the game will eventually end for all of us. The person behind the athlete is who remains.
We know most athletes won't go pro, but every athlete can leave the game with skills, character, and experiences that will serve them long after basketball is over.
"We're producing more exposure than ever before, but are we producing better athletes?"
Let's Remember the Person Behind the Athlete
When I created the first annual Camp 44, one of my goals was to expose athletes to different coaches, different voices, and different perspectives. Not because one coach is better than another, but because growth happens when young athletes are given the opportunity to learn from a variety of experiences.
That's also when one of the most frustrating realities of youth basketball became impossible to ignore the resistance that sometimes comes from the adults themselves, parents and coaches included.
I've seen coaches and trainers become upset when athletes attend another camp, join another program, or work with another coach. In some cases, athletes are made to feel guilty for simply seeking opportunities to learn, develop, and grow.
That mindset has never sat right with me.
If we're truly here for the athlete, then their growth should always come before our ego. Their development should always matter more than our brand. And their future should never be limited by our need to control the journey.
Youth development should not be a competition between coaches. It should be a collaboration in service of the athlete best interest.
Yes, consistency matters. Building relationships and following a structured development plan is important. But exposure to different coaches, teaching styles, and perspectives can also be incredibly valuable for a young athlete's growth.
No single coach has all the answers. Limiting athletes to one perspective can create gaps in their development and limit their potential.
If we truly want what's best for young athletes, we need to put our egos aside and focus on their growth rather than our own interests.
At the end of the day, athletes don't belong to us. They aren't our clients, our content, or our success stories to claim. They are young people trying to figure out who they are, what they're capable of, and where they fit in the world.
Our role as coaches is not to control the journey, it's to guide it.
The best coaches I've had weren't the ones who demanded loyalty. They were the ones who genuinely cared. They challenged me, believed in me, held me accountable, and wanted to see me succeed, whether that success benefited them or not.
Final Thoughts
This was a bit of a rant, but these are my thoughts and observations from being involved on and off in the basketball space as both an athlete and a coach.
Basketball in Toronto has grown, the talent has grown, and the resources continue to grow. That's something worth celebrating. There are many great coaches, trainers, programs, and organizations doing meaningful work throughout the city.
But if we truly want basketball and youth sports as a whole to serve the next generation, we need to focus less on creating better athletes and more on developing better people. We need to build a stronger community, not only for our athletes, but for coaches, trainers, parents and mentors as well.
We know some of the most valuable lessons we can learn through sport has nothing to do with the scoreboard. They came from adversity, friendship, leadership, and learning how to keep going when things got hard. Yet too often, the leaders in the space don't always reflect those same values.
Nevertheless, as I emerge in this space the lessons I learn continue to shape who I am today as a coach, mentor, entrepreneur, and future healthcare professional.
I'm far from perfect, and I still have a long way to go before I can call myself a master coach or trainer. But I know the direction I don't want to go. I've experienced what it feels like to lose my love for the game, and that's something I never want to go through again.
At its best, basketball is about so much more than wins, rankings, scholarships, or exposure.
It's about connection, growth, and community, but lately it feels more like a popularity contest.
I don't have all the answers, and I'm certainly not perfect. But through coaching, mentorship, and Camp 44, I'm committed to being part of the solution rather than contributing to the problem.
I've never been much of a speaker, but the game has given me a lot.
This is simply my way of giving something back and doing exactly what the game taught me to do.
