When I woke up this morning, I looked at the 2005 Kilimanjaro Super Cup MVP trophy gathering dust in my trophy cabinet. I won that award after leading the Oilers to the championship of that year’s edition of Tanzania’s most decorated basketball tournament.

The MVP Award came with a cash prize of Tshs 2 million. In addition, I got a fraction of the Tshs 6 million we won as a team. I spent some of it clearing my outstanding tuition fees. The remainder was swept by the wind on some island in the Indian Ocean. In other words, the surplus was squandered on vacation in tropical paradise.

The dust-gathering trophy is the only Kili Super Cup earning I still have in my possession. Certificates of participation were issued after I had left Tanzania. Mine was mailed through the post office. Seventeen years down the line, it hasn’t reached me yet.

The dust-gathering trophy has a mini statue of a player shooting a basketball. The design of a shooting baller, erected on the base of the aforementioned trophy, reminds me of the countless shots I used to attempt behind the scenes.

This is not a basketball post. If you opened the link expecting to read a hoops story, I am sorry to disappoint you. I am talking about the symbolic act of shooting in real life.

The number of times we present our business ideas to financiers and investors constitute the number of shots we take. Every single sales pitch is a shot taken. Submitted proposals and job applications are shot attempts. While every attempt creates the probability of scoring, you miss every shot you don’t take. Keep shooting.