You can’t think that way, Elena, I finally told myself. It’s like Tamika said. Basketball is a team sport, and as long as you’re being true to yourself as a player, you’re doing your part for the team.
I was doing more than just my part, though. I’d actually been the scoring and rebound leader in many of our games, and injuries hadn’t sidelined me at all. It had to be something else. At first Pokey blamed it on our defense. Then as that started to improve, our frontcourt struggled. She finally placed a rookie named Imani Boyette in the center position, and she helped us stay afloat during games.
A winning streak will have to wait, I decided.
As I headed into the Olympics that August, I vowed not to lose sight of the Sky. I was determined to balance the demands of both teams, then win gold on one and make it to the play-offs on the other.
The first goal seemed totally possible; the second would be more challenging and just a little bit tricky.
But before I tackled either, my personal life—once again—would be taking center stage.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Engagement
Early on in high school, I realized that I really was attracted to girls—that it wasn’t just some feeling that would pass in a week or so—but I didn’t tell my family or any of my friends. I’ve never been good at confrontation or coming clean about something that’s weighing on me, so I’ve always just not talked about whatever issue is at hand. I convince myself that if I pretend something’s not happening, no one will notice.
That’s why I waited till after college, when I’d met Amanda and was sure we’d spend our lives together, to come out to my parents. I never wanted to hide her or our relationship, so I hoped that introducing her—and being truthful about who I am—wouldn’t be weird.
It wasn’t. I think my parents had always suspected it, and Dad didn’t seem shocked at all. Mom was initially nervous that I’d be judged by other people—especially all the haters on the Internet who loved to mock me—but then she saw how happy I was. She knew that with Amanda I’d always be able to handle any negativity that would come my way.
After raising one disabled daughter and one daughter who’s a head taller than most men, Mom knew exactly what to say. She was just as supportive as she’s always been about me being different.
“In this family,” she said, “we celebrate uniqueness. We’re all different in one way or another, and we love and honor each other because of that.”
When Amanda and I got together, I didn’t make a big deal publicly about it. She wasn’t a public figure like me, so I didn’t want to make a show of her or all that we’d built together. (Like our two dogs, our apartments in Chicago and Delaware, and the fact that she’d become the director of the Elena De11e Donne Academy!) If our relationship was going to be out in the open, we decided it would happen organically, slowly, and naturally. Sure, I’d put a few photos of us hanging out, doing fun things, on Instagram, but that was just because we were always together. It would have been weird not to include her!
So when Vogue interviewed me for a profile piece a month or so before the Olympics, we decided there was no way to dodge the fact that we’d gotten engaged early that summer. Yep, that’s right; I’d proposed to Amanda, and she’d done the same to me.
In June, Amanda had asked me to go with her to the Montrose Dog Beach. It was still one of our favorite spots, and we walked Wrigley and Rasta there all the time. As we made our way toward a quiet spot away from the hordes of people who sit by the lake in the early summer, Amanda turned to me with a big smile on her face.
“Hey, look at Wrigley,” she said.
“Huh?” I was confused. When he stood on his hind legs, Wrigley was as big as me. There was no way to avoid his huge body, so I was basically always looking at him.
“His collar,” Amanda laughed.
I stared down as Wrigley looked up, and I saw the most beautiful diamond ring I’ve ever seen hanging from his neck. Before Amanda even had a chance to open her mouth, I screamed.
“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”
A few weeks later I decided that Amanda deserved to be as surprised as I’d been, so I decorated our condo’s roof deck and assembled a huge dinner of all our favorite foods, including crab legs, Portillo’s cheese fries, and doughnuts from a tiny bakery called the Doughnut Vault. Then I invited her up. When we’d finished off every delicious bite, I went back downstairs and came up again with Rasta, whom I’d dressed up in a white veil and train. I held up a sign that read MARRY ME? and presented her with her engagement ring.
Then I took a photo of Amanda and Rasta, who hated her costume from the first second I put her in it, and posted it on Instagram.
You know what’s so funny? I got lots of likes and congratulations, yet the media didn’t pick the story up. No tabloid or news source even acknowledged our engagement till we met with Vogue.
That’s exactly how I wanted it, I thought. Just be natural about this, and no one will make a fuss.
I’ve worked hard my whole life to achieve balance, not to break down or burn out again, and to keep my life as steady and sane as possible, and I think a good relationship has gone a long way toward making that happen. Amanda keeps me grounded, makes me laugh, and is a partner in everything I do. You may get frustrated looking for love, but I think it’s important to always strive for it. You will find it! Your special person doesn’t have to be a boyfriend or girlfriend, though; he or she could be a friend, family member, or even a community group. You can create any kind of network you want! Just remember that good people around you can stabilize you.
And as I headed into the Olympics—the biggest athletic event of my entire life—Amanda was my rock.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Rio
Even though the 2016 Summer Olympics were being held in one of the most beautiful cities in the world, there was a huge shadow hanging over the games: the outbreak of Zika. Brazil was devastated when it was revealed that many women infected with this mosquito-borne illness had given birth to babies with severe birth defects. The Brazilian government did everything it could to contain it—and scientists assured the world that unless you were pregnant, your only risk was the possibility of developing flu-like symptoms—but a lot of people still worried.
After battling a horrible, life-changing illness—carried by an insect, no less—I definitely had second thoughts about going. I can’t get sick again, I thought. What if I catch Zika and it interacts with one of the Lyme disease–related illnesses I already have? What if the combination makes me even sicker?
I talked to Rita about it, and she was reassuring.
“There’s been a tremendous amount of research done on Zika,” she said. “So far I haven’t seen anything to suggest that it will make your illnesses worse.”
Informed, I decided to go to Rio. I realized that in almost any situation, there are hundreds, if not thousands, of little issues you can make yourself crazy about, but taking them all seriously is a recipe for a complete meltdown. So I decided to focus on one thing: following the Olympic dream I’d had since I was a kid.
The entire USA basketball program—men’s players, women’s players, officials, support staff, coaches, and families—would be staying on a 160-person cruise ship that would be docked near the Olympic Village. How could I even think about missing that? The ship had been a tradition since 1992, but the aura around it grew every year. It had restaurants, a swimming pool, several decks, and workout space right there for whenever you needed it. My teammate Sue Bird called it a “bo-tel,” which we all thought was hilarious. Being on it would be a vacation, even though I’d be working harder than I ever had in my life.
The way the basketball competition worked at the Olympics was a little confusing, so bear with me while I explain it. In the opening stage, called the group stage, there were twelve teams separated into two groups. Each team would play every other team within its group once. For each matchup, the team that won would get two poi
nts, and the team that lost would get one point. The four teams with the most points in each group would then advance to the knockout stage, which consisted of quarterfinals, semifinals, and then the gold medal match.
Like I said before, the US was considered by almost every major news organization to be the likely winner. We didn’t have just history on our side; we had twelve women who played professionally year-round (or in my case, half the year) at the top of the sport. We had the best coach in the world in Geno, and because ten of the twelve women on the team played overseas in the off-season, they understood how international officiating worked. Several of my teammates were also Olympic veterans, so they didn’t have the first-time jitters that I had. They knew what they were getting into, and they were prepared.
We had the edge, and we showed it right away in the group stage. First we defeated Senegal with a score of 121–56, which was the biggest margin of victory ever recorded in the Olympics. During that game I slipped up a little when I leaned into a screen, which in the US wouldn’t be considered an offensive foul. But in the Olympics it was, and I got penalized. Still, it was my first Olympic game, and I learned something. That was what mattered.
Then we defeated Spain, by forty points, and followed up with victories over Serbia, Canada, and China. We passed right into the knockout round having never trailed after the first quarter of any game.
The quarterfinals weren’t difficult either. We breezed right past Japan, 110–64, then met 2012’s silver medalists, France, in the semifinals. They put up a strong fight, though, and at halftime we were up by only four. We drilled down on their defense in the third and fourth quarters, then poured on the points and beat them 86–67. Diana Taurasi broke an overall Olympic scoring record too when she made her twenty-eighth point off a three-point shot. The record had stood at twenty-seven for the whole Olympics—and Diana still had the chance to take it even higher, since we had one game left to play!
The US was due to meet Spain in the gold medal game on August 20, and we all suspected we’d beat them, since we’d been so dominant against them in the group stage. My nerves were on fire, though. This was the Olympics, Amanda and my whole family (except for Lizzie) were in the stands, and I was playing for my country, not just my school or a city I’d only called home for a few years. Little girls were watching and dreaming the same big dreams I’d had twenty years before, and when we won—if we won—I suspected they’d feel the same shivers I would when the national anthem began playing during the medal ceremony.
I knew there was one thing that could take the heat off a big moment like this. I had to develop a completely different mind-set from what I’d had in any other game. In fact, I’d need to get comfortable with the idea of myself as a benchwarmer—not that that was a bad thing! Most of the players on the US team were veterans, with more experience than me, and I was the new kid, not expected to be the star. No one thought I’d play the bulk of the game like I had usually done. I’d come off the bench when I was needed, play my heart out, then step back, rest, and let someone else shine. It wasn’t unlike my place in my family or in my relationship with Amanda; my role was just one part of a bigger puzzle.
Honestly, it felt good to be a support player. It wasn’t that I knew the pressure was off me. I’m used to stress. I’ve learned how to deal with it. Sometimes I even like it! It’s just that watching other people lead a team to victory is so exciting. When you’re on the bench, you can step back and enjoy the game like a spectator would, but at the same time you can learn the moves, the tricks, and the strategies of players you’ve typically only been up against or playing with. You can really spend time figuring out where you fit in.
It’s the same mind-set I talk about with the kids in my clinics.
“When you’re on the bench, don’t feel like it’s because you’re not good enough,” I say. “Being on the sidelines is actually an opportunity for you to watch and learn how to improve your level of play.”
Still, I got so excited when I was called off the bench in the earlier matchups, and I’d started to do things I didn’t normally do in games. I set more screens. I played more defense. Then I sat back and watched veterans like Diana Taurasi, Sue Bird, and Tamika Catchings become the score, assist, and rebound leaders.
You know what? It was fun 99 percent of the time! And when it was challenging, I was always learning something, just like all the other Olympic rookies.
“We’re still young. We’re still learning. We just got our diapers off,” Brittney Griner joked in an interview, and even though I laughed when I heard that, I agreed.
But we wouldn’t feel like babies in the gold medal game against Spain. We’d feel like part of the greatest women’s basketball team in the world, which is exactly what we proved we were.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Gold Medal Game
The gold medal game against Spain wasn’t half as easy as our previous matchups had been.
For the first thirteen minutes, the game was incredibly close, and as I sat on the bench and watched the score tie up six times, then the lead change four times, I got a little worried. The second quarter changed that. Led by Diana Taurasi’s and Lindsay Whalen’s beautiful shooting, as well as Spain’s repeated turnovers, we started to pull away. Spain crept up within three points in the second quarter, but by halftime we were up 49–32. But to all of us, it just wasn’t enough.
At halftime our assistant coach approached me.
“Elena,” he said, “get in there and play great pick-and-roll defense. Rebound as much as you can. Be aggressive. We need you to help us pour on the points in the second half.”
Sometimes coaches have a way of pinpointing exactly what it is that will inspire a player, and when he said that, I felt so motivated. Throughout the Olympics I’d been a role player, helping to support my team, but he clearly saw exactly how I could help us seal our victory and walk to the gold medal podium.
He knows how fired up I am, I thought. He understands I can be as dominant as every other player out there.
I practically leaped off the bench, and when I took to the floor, I could feel everyone’s momentum shift. Suddenly we were making basket after basket. I netted six points and swatted away a shot from one of the tallest players on the Spanish team. Diana Taurasi hit two more three-pointers, and we went fourteen for eighteen from the field. Not just that; we held Spain to 33.3 percent shooting, and by the end of the third, we’d extended our lead to 88–57.
Even though Spain outscored us 23–20 in the fourth quarter, it just wasn’t enough to make up for the damage we’d done in the third. When the final buzzer rang, we had won solidly by a score of 101–72.
I can’t believe it, I thought. This is one of the greatest feelings of my life.
I wasn’t the only person who felt that way. When Tina Turner’s “(Simply) The Best” started blasting through the arena, Brittney Griner ran up to me, pulled me close, and lifted me into the air. I didn’t know it at the time, but at that moment someone photographed us and posted it online. That image became one of the most iconic moments of the gold medal game and the Olympics.
When we walked to the podium to receive our gold medals, I was practically shaking from head to foot. I looked up into the stands and could see my mom and dad, with Gene and Amanda and my sister-in-law and aunt beside them, and I remember tears coming into my eyes as I stepped up.
When my name was called, I leaned down and felt a gold medal placed around my neck. I lifted it up gently, turning it in my fingers and watching it shimmer in the lights that were streaming down from up above.
This doesn’t feel real, I thought. It’s like I’m dreaming.
But when “The Star-Spangled Banner” began to ring through the stadium and I saw the American flag rise, I knew I was an Olympic champion.
Chapter Forty
In an Instant
If you’ve ever accomplished a huge goal, you might worry that going back to real life will be a letdown. You’ve just reac
hed the top of the world, so doesn’t that mean that everything will be downhill from there?
I could have felt this way after the Olympics. After all, I’d been having the time of my life for two straight weeks, living it up on a cruise ship, playing with the world’s top basketball players, and then winning a huge game in front of 10.2 million TV viewers. That was twenty times the number of people who’d watched the WNBA finals the year before!
Then suddenly I had to go home, rest for all of one day, and go back to my day job. Was I disappointed? Not for a second. That was because I’d decided not to view my life after the Olympics as something less exciting than where I’d just been, but instead as a step into something greater. I knew that I’d learned skills at the Olympics that would help me be a better leader for the Sky, and I understood that those skills would make me continue to grow for the next four years. And maybe after that—in 2020—I’d get another shot at going to the Olympics. Besides, I had a pretty daunting opportunity ahead of me, and it was going to take all of my newfound knowledge.
I had to help get Chicago into the play-offs.
Remember that we’d been having a rocky—and losing—season so far. The top four teams in the Eastern Conference would be advancing to the play-offs, and we knew that if we had any shot whatsoever, we needed to have a winning season. We had eleven games left to play, and every single one of them mattered. If we didn’t turn our season around, we’d be going straight into the off-season.
I’m not sure if it was the five weeks of rest my teammates had taken while they’d been on break, the skills I’d developed at the Olympics, or just a general fire in our bellies, but we got back onto the court looking great and won our remaining two games in August. After that we won two more! Suddenly our record was 15–13, and the play-offs started to feel like a real possibility.
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