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HAWTHORNE, NJ -- As I sat thinking up idea to write about for InsideHoops.com, a major brain cramp developed. Writers' block, some like to call it. I did basically the only sane thing, and turned to the only friend who’s never blown me off, the basketball.

I took my rock to the gym and began hoisting shots, bucket after bucket after bucket. It’s amazing, I don’t know if it’s the pitter patter of the ball or the mix of sweat and the silence of a gym that gets my brain pumping. Suddenly ideas came flowing to me, and as I toed the foul line for shot after shot, I kept coming back to one question, what gives me this intense burn and intense drive for basketball?

Bucket after bucket after bucket, its 9:07 now.

Basketball to most people in its simplest of terms is a sport. To me, basketball has somehow become more than a sport; it’s become a way of life, a love. I’ve always said that I have two loves, my girlfriend and basketball, and it’s true. Basketball really started getting important in my life when I was a freshman in high school. I got good at it, and my team was really impressive. But there is something more. The gym I’m shooting at is totally empty; just the way I like it. When I’m shooting baskets, my brain feels free, and my mind opens.

Bucket after bucket after bucket, its 9:36 now.

I realized that one key aspect of basketball and one part of the game that I’ve always been drawn to is the "clutch factor." In its purest form, basketball is man-on-man - whoever is better is the winner. The pace is fast, and unlike football and baseball, the action is non-stop. The only other sport that can offer this is hockey, but I'm no fan of hockey.

When I say clutch, I mean clutch. Eight seconds left, Chicago Bulls have the ball and Money is stepping onto the court. That’s clutch. Give me another sport that can offer that.

Robert Parrish, the great Celtics center once said, “Everyone knows who’s getting the ball, it’s just a matter of stopping him.” And sure enough, LB nets another trey right in your face, no remorse.

Reggie Miller scoring eight points in 18 seconds, then turning to taunt Spike Lee, that’s clutch.

Basketball itself is clutch.

Bucket after bucket after bucket, its 10:29 now.

Girlfriend is blowing up the cell now, yet for whatever reason I can’t give her the time of day. Too much adrenaline flowing right now. Too many situations to run through. I'm alone, yet too hypnotized by what I'm doing to stop.

And it's obviously not just me that feels like this. Basketball is a key part of almost every living, breathing neighborhood in the country. Every hood and ‘burb from here to the coasts has a local legend that they can talk about. And a set of rules that are enforced, and are instilled with pride. Yet, no matter how you strike it, whether you are playing in ordinary town Hawthorne, NJ, Brooklyn, or Beijing, one thing is going to ring true, winner holds court. Losers walk. It doesn’t matter if you’re Italian, American or Argentinean (big ups on the gold), if you can stroke a J from 25 out, you’re going to be getting the rock and you better hoist. Whether you are white, black, yellow or green, if you can put guys on skates (old school reference) you’re going to be handling the rock. And in what other sport can you rock a retro with the name Bol on the back, and be the illest cat on the block. And don’t even let me get into sneakers, a craze all in its own. Basketball is here to stay.

Buckets after bucket after bucket, its 11:11 now.

Sweats really dripping, hands are dirty, yet seeing each continual swish makes me stay a minute longer. Basketball really is a passion to me, and I can't live without it.