You remember this one, don’t you, Tash?
“Stand tall. Head high. Keep your chin up. Walk with pride.”
Yeah, I know you rolled your eyes every time Mom got a little too preachy. Only if you knew how these words held us together every time life came at us a little too fast. That, even when people laughed at us… we held onto this like armor.
Because nothing about our path was easy. Right from the big day.
The draft day still plays in my mind like it was yesterday. How you just sat there, hoping that you’d land somewhere close to home. Somewhere where our people could show up, be in the stands, and see us living our dream.
Well, that wish came true. You landed just 200 miles away from home in Indiana.
But then came the expectations. And yet, you remained just…you.
Now when I look back, I’m grateful you didn’t force anything. You didn’t fake readiness or pretend to be someone you hadn’t grown into yet. That takes courage. Okay… don’t go patting yourself on the back just yet. You got a little lucky, too. I mean… how many rookies get vets who actually become their mentors?
So it might not have been the dreamiest of starts. But you soaked it all in from the bench. Quietly. Patiently. Until…
No one prepares you for how fast things change in this “toughest league,” as they call it. One minute, you are soaking in your second home and unpacking that sweet feeling. The next, you’re traded.
I still remember the way it cracked you open. But so proud that you were mindful enough to understand that it’s business. And just between us, that fresh start probably saved you. You wouldn’t admit it back then, I know. But it gave you exactly what you needed.
New city, new hustle. Same you… just a new version.
A part of me still aches thinking back. How it took every ounce of strength to stay quiet, to never complain, to just put your head down and work. Maybe that’s just how we were raised. But you did it with so much grace.
Today, when someone asks me about you, I don’t even pause. I say: Strength and patience are her middle name. The way you held it all together still brings me to tears.
Playing in W was no joke, but those overseas years tested you in ways no one could ever truly understand.
You missed birthdays.
You missed the holidays.
You missed the smell of home cooking that only your people get right.
And so much more.
But you kept showing up, even when your heart felt a thousand miles behind. You don’t even know how inspiring all of that is.
And maybe it didn’t feel like it then, but every long flight, every foreign locker room, every quiet night was building something in you. Not just the athlete they see on the court, but the woman behind her – tougher, wiser, softer in the right places.
After five years of waiting, of proving yourself in pieces, of being tested through trades and minutes, your moment came in Seattle. That was the beginning… the moment you finally stepped into the starting five. Since then, the game kept growing, and so did you.
And finally, after years of holding the “selfless” title close, you finally listened to your heart. Okay… maybe to the love of your life (and yes, you did find her- the kindest, most beautiful woman on this planet, I’d say). But you chose you. For once, fully and loudly.
I can’t tell you how much I love saying this…we found our way back home, Tash. It’s different now. But it still feels like home and just right.
A few months back, you returned to Indy and barely recognized it. The same was with the gym – new locker rooms and a whole new energy pulsing through the walls. But something in the air still felt familiar.
You’d come full circle. It was meant to be, wasn’t it?
This time, with three rings, as a trusted voice in the locker room, and a whole lot more perspective.
We wasted no time making our mark. Imagine me standing beside you right now and screaming in your ears, “We did it. We finally did it. You got that MVP.” Yes, that happened. The Commissioner’s Cup trophy meant everything. Even so, what really matters is what you had to become to get there.
A leader, a believer.
Mom was right, Tash. “Always be the leader. Never the follower.” You held on to that. You made sure your story never looked like anyone else’s.
So now, when little girls watch you and say, “I want to be like her,” you smile. Because you know the truth. They don’t have to be you. They just need to believe like you did. Believe that it’s possible. That they can follow their dreams with the right people around them, with God at the center, and with a chin that never drops.
I can’t wait to walk you through what comes next. Because we are not done yet. Not even close.
We are still learning.
We are still growing.
We are still chasing another ring.
All I can say looking back is…
You did good, kid.
I’m proud of you.
I hope you are too.
— With all my heart,
Natasha Howard,
Commissioner’s Cup MVP
The post To Tash, From MVP Natasha Howard appeared first on EssentiallySports.