For as long as I can remember, I’ve been defined by one word: workhorse. It wasn’t a title I chose, but one that formed around me — first through my mother’s blind eye to what should’ve counted as child labor, and later through the endless Dennis Rodman and Ben Wallace highlight reels that became my model for who I wanted to be.

Some people chase glory. I chased responsibility. I resonated with the “Rodman Mentality” long before I could comprehend it: the belief that greatness isn’t always loud, flashy, or celebrated. Sometimes it’s built in the shadows — in the hustle, in the intensity, in the refusal to be anything less than indisputable at the things that matter most. Grit over Glamor.