Adams Steven - My life, my fight : rising up from New Zealand to the okc thunder

Whatever you do, dont trip up the stairs.

I didnt care which organization drafted me. I didnt care who my future teammates would be. All I cared about was not falling over in front of the world. I repeated this to myself as the NBA commissioner, David Stern, walked on stage to loud boos from a Brooklyn crowd.

My brothers Mohi and Sid had flown over from New Zealand to be with me for the 2013 draft, and I looked across to see if they knew what was going on. They shrugged their shoulders and seemed as confused as I was. What did we know? We were just three farming brothers from Rotorua, and yet here we were on one of the biggest nights of the American sporting calendar, waiting to see which NBA team Id be playing for next season and acting like we wore fancy suits all the time.

David Stern kept talking and the crowd kept booing. When he congratulated the Miami Heat on winning another championship, the booing got louder. What I didnt realize was this was Sterns last draft and the crowd was using the occasion to make its feelings known about the polarizing commissioner. I scanned the crowd at the Barclays Center, which was packed with diehard NBA fans who probably cared about basketball more than I did. Id never been an NBA fan, I didnt even have a favorite player, and I had certainly never watched the draft before.

Above the boos, Stern could be heard announcing the first draft pick. The first pick of the 2013 NBA draft will be made by the Cleveland Cavaliers, who have five minutes to make their selection.

Then silence. When you watch the draft at home you get to hear the ESPN analysts predicting who they think will be picked, and although theyre almost always wrong at least its something. In the arena it was completely silent while we waited for the Cavaliers to make their decision.

My brothers and I spent those five minutes staring at one of the other draft hopefuls, who was sitting with his entourage just a few tables away from us. This guy was a big star in the lead-up to the draft and was one of the favorites to be picked first. I didnt really know him. All I knew was that we were complete opposites. He seemed to have been a superstar all his life. He was a standout in high school and then played for one of the top college teams. Even though I had no real interest in college basketball outside of my own team, I knew his college was a sporting powerhouse.

Meanwhile I was a player who, as the analysts would later say, was an unknown until I declared for the draft and went to the NBA Draft Combine testing in Chicago, where draftees are put through a series of physical tests, interviews, and scrimmages. This guy only appeared at the combine for the physical measurements, and he was still a solid bet at the number-one pick. He wasnt at any of the 12 workouts I did for 11 different teams either. He was already famous, while I was desperately working to impress anyone who had the power to hire me. But on that night, I knew exactly what was stitched on the inside of his suit jacket.

Basketball players are tall. Even the shortest are above average height. So when a bunch of basketball players are preparing for one of the biggest nights of their lives, they need a custom-tailored suit. I was sent to an agency that tailored for tall guys like me and asked what I wanted in a suit. To be honest, I just wanted it to fit. They asked what colors represented New Zealand. Damn, how should I know? They suggested green lining to represent the farmland. Sure, why not? For the tie they suggested white stripes to represent milk and dairy farming. It all seemed a bit bougie to me, but I knew nothing about fashion so I just nodded and said that sounded great. The one request I did have was for the New Zealand flag to be stitched into the lining. It wasnt an unusual request. Some players get their college logo, but I wanted to represent New Zealand through and through.

I was told to collect my suit from the agency the day before the draft. When I walked into the room, the first thing I noticed was a Cleveland Cavaliers singlet laid out with the logo cut out. One of the women told me a player had asked for the Cavaliers logo to be sewn into the lining of his jacket. I thought that was bloody brave. No player knows for sure where theyre going to end up and no organization knows for sure which player theyll pick until they do it on the night. I had an inkling that I was going to go to Oklahoma City because of the way my visits there had gone, but I would never have dared tell anyone, let alone stitch the Oklahoma City Thunder logo into the lining of my suit.

I needed to know who the man was with the biggest balls in the draft. So while I was looking through the rack for my suit, I had a peek at all the other players outfits. All of them were pretty standard until I saw one that had a college teams singlet number on one side of the lining and on the other was the logo of the Cleveland Cavaliers. I couldnt believe this guy was that confident, and somehow I knew right then that the Cavaliers wouldnt pick him first. The universe wouldnt let anything work out that smoothly. I regretted not putting the logo of the Manawatu Jets basketball team on the other side of my jacket just for shits and giggles. It seemed as appropriate as a Cavaliers logo. When I told my brothers, we all agreed it was a bots move, then went back to worrying about my own future.

David Stern came back on stage to announce the first pick.

With the first pick in the 2013 NBA Draft, the Cleveland Cavaliers select Anthony Bennett.

The whole room gasped. The ESPN guys yelled in surprise. This guys table stared at the floor like someone had just died. Ive never seen a group of people look so disappointed at such a joyous occasion. If the camera had cut to our table, it would have shown all of us with our mouths wide open, trying not to laugh. It was an amazing moment.