Tonight marks the season opener for the Phoenix Suns (and little Leandro Barbosa, pictured above), the team I’ve followed my entire life as an Arizona native.

Most people know I’m an avid Suns fan and love the game of basketball in general. But not everyone really knows why this sport is such a passion for me.

It probably all started with my dad, who took me and my brother to Suns games when we were just kids. I remember some of the old players, like Larry Nance and Alvin Adams. That’s how long ago we started watching this team.

Those are memories stuck in my head. I can still see people throwing tortilla shells around the Veteran’s Memorial Coliseum back when the Suns played the Lakers in the late 80′s playoff run. My room was decked out with Suns newspaper clipping the year they went to the Finals (1993). I went to the parade that same year when the town celebrated them even though they didn’t win.

So I had that childhood basis for loving the sport. Then I went to high school and wanted to play on the team, but I was awful. I remember trying out for the team as a freshmen and pulling off this goofy hook shot that hit the lights up in the ceiling of the gym.

That still embarrasses me to think about it. Needless to say, I didn’t make the team. Not even the freshman team!

From that point on, I started playing down at the elementary school every afternoon with other high school kids from the neighborhood.  Every single day we were there. The hoops were 8-feet tall, so we all learned to dunk the ball, which helped develop a pretty decent ability to jump in my tiny, 5-foot-10 white frame.

By the time I was a junior, my best friend Sam, who was on the varsity team, told me I should be starting for them. I was shocked. I guess I hadn’t realized how much I had improved.

But it was a private school and I had made the choice to go there and help pay for it by doing work study in the afternoons. So practicing was out of the question. I couldn’t do it. I did travel with the team and took stats, being the “manager” in a way, which seemed very humiliating at times.

Yet it never bothered me as much as you might think. True, one of my bigger regrets as a kid was never playing on my high school team. I think it would be been an amazing experience for me.

But basketball was more than just that for me. It was a sport that allowed you to go outside and play by yourself whenever you wanted. You can’t really say that about football, baseball, etc. All you need is a ball and a hoop. You can play against yourself to get better and better at making shots or dribbling the ball.

Mostly though, it was an escape for me. If my life ever got hectic or too much to deal with, or I had just broken up with a girl (or trying to impress the girl playing bball next door), I’d spend hours out in front of my house shooting hoops.

I’m not an awesome player, but I can hold my own and it’s something I’ve been proud of for a long time. In fact, it’s the only…the SINGLE thing I am scared of when I grow old: Not being able to play anymore.

Even now, if I haven’t picked up a ball in six months or longer, I can always get back into shape quickly and be the same old player I’ve always been (minus a bit of speed these days).

But that wont always be the case.

In the meantime, I try to play when I can and watch every Suns game. It’s not just “sports” to me…it’s a lot more than that.

And I hope to pass on the same love of the game to Lyla someday. Who knows, maybe she’ll want to play hoops in high school like her old man never got a chance to do.