The Californian afternoon sun beat down harshly on the cracked asphalt of the public court in East Oakland. Sarah Johnson adjusted her curly ponytail, wiped the sweat from her forehead with the faded sleeve of her t-shirt, and took a deep breath.
The worn-out basketball in her hands had seen better days, just as the court where she spent her afternoons had. The scent of Mexican food from the corner food truck mingled with the distinctive aroma of the Bay, creating that unique Oakland atmosphere she loved so much.
At 12 years old, Sarah already knew all too well the weight of life. Six months ago, she and her mother, Patricia, had moved into a temporary shelter after they lost their apartment on Roosevelt Avenue.
Patricia’s long spell of unemployment had taken its toll, but not their dignity or the hope of their small family. Sarah still remembered the day she found the abandoned basketball near a garbage container. It had been her first sign of luck in weeks.
“Just one more hour,” Sarah murmured to herself as she positioned herself on the makeshift three-point line she had drawn in chalk. The rusty rim of the hoop swayed gently in the Bay breeze, but that did not bother her. She had already learned to factor in even the wind, adjusting her shots to nature’s rhythm.
On the other side of the street, Marcus Thompson watched silently and in awe. The former college player from Berkeley, now devoted to community projects in the neighborhood, could hardly believe what he was seeing. The way Sarah positioned her feet, the perfect arc of the ball, the mechanics of her shot—everything unmistakably recalled the style of Patrick Mahomes. In 15 years of working with young athletes, Marcus had never seen anything like it.
Sarah didn’t notice Marcus’s presence; she was focused on her own routine, the one she had developed after obsessively watching Patrick Mahomes’ training videos on borrowed cell phones at the public library. Shot after shot, her throws found the net with astonishing precision. The familiar swish echoed through the empty court.
“Mom must be coming back,” Sarah thought, noticing the orange hues in the evening sky. Patricia always said that looking for a job was a full-time job, and Sarah understood that while her mother battled for an opportunity, wandering the streets of Oakland with her resume printed on recycled paper, she transformed that dilapidated court into her own kingdom.
Marcus discreetly took out his cell phone. As a volunteer coach for many years in the Oakland youth basketball program, he had seen plenty of talent on the city’s courts, but there was something different about Sarah. The determination in the girl’s eyes, her refined technique despite such poor conditions—everything needed to be documented. His hands trembled slightly as he aimed his phone to capture the moment. As the sun set over the San Francisco Bay, painting the sky with shades of pink and orange, Sarah continued her series of shots, oblivious to the fact that her life was about to change.
Marcus’s 2-minute video showcasing Sarah’s raw, unpolished talent quickly went viral. First on Twitter, then on Instagram, and within hours, it exploded across all social networks. The Oakland sunset provided the perfect backdrop, giving the footage an almost cinematic quality.
“Have you seen this street ball Sarah? She’s simply amazing!” the hashtags began to appear in posts by NBA and WNBA players. Marcus’s video had reached over 5 million views in just 48 hours. Sports commentators started analyzing her technique, comparing it to that of basketball greats.
Marcus knew he had to act responsibly before the local media could swarm the court. He sought out Patricia at the Hope Haven shelter. “Mrs. Johnson, I think we need to talk about your daughter,” he said, showing her the hundreds of positive comments and messages of support that were pouring in.
Patricia, initially apprehensive, listened intently as she saw the comments about her daughter. “Sarah always said she wanted to be like Patrick Mahomes,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she held the phone. “But I never imagined anyone would notice her practicing on that old court. We’ve been through so much since we lost our home.”
The buzz around Sarah’s talent continued to grow. ESPN Bay Area was the first to arrive, followed by NBC Sports and a slew of local influencers. Reporters wanted to know everything about the Oakland “Mahomes girl,” and with Patricia’s cautious consent, Sarah granted her first interview on the very court where it all began.
“I just want to play basketball,” Sarah said timidly, her braids swaying as she demonstrated a few shots. “When I’m here, I forget all my problems. It’s like the court is my home.” Her voice trembled slightly as she mentioned the word home, but her smile remained resolute.
As Sarah’s story spread across social media, local celebrities began sharing the video, and an online campaign to help Sarah and her mother started gaining momentum. The buzz eventually reached the Golden State Warriors’ offices, where one of the team’s social media assistants tagged Patrick Mahomes in one of the thousands of shares of Sarah’s video.
Patrick Mahomes, known for his involvement
