TJ Roberts, a driver in the L.A. area, often gets asked the same question. “I go to help with a bag, or people realize like, ‘He’s damn near sitting in the back seat with me!’ 

TJ, who towers over most riders at 6’ 10” tall, confirms their suspicions: “I played high-level high school basketball, high-level college, played professionally overseas, and the NBA. I’ve been all around the world with it.”

With March Madness upon us, we wanted to know: What’s it like playing at such a competitive level? What were the highlights of TJ’s basketball career? And what’s his advice for young athletes coming up? 

Here’s TJ’s story, in his words.

I grew up in Jersey City, which was a rough area. A lot of people didn’t make it out: Some passed; many are in jail. It was very easy to get caught up in that lifestyle. 

My parents did their best to keep me sheltered, but they worked two and three jobs to keep a roof over our heads. So I was always outside, on the streets. Basketball kept my mind in the books and on the court and off the streets. 

I went to the best high school you could go to for basketball. My high school coach was a Hall of Fame coach. We practiced three hours a day every day for four years, seven days a week. There were no real breaks — only five days off when the season ended. If church was a thing, well, you’d have to pray before and after practice, but practice came first. 

Everybody believing in you, that you’re gonna do this and do that — you force yourself to be good, because you don’t wanna let people down.

Coming out of my class in 2003, I was top 30 in the country. When you’re that type of player, the recruiters come to you. I had offers from Duke, Virginia, Florida, Maryland, every Big East school. A few sent private jets, flew me from Jersey to visit them. 

But I went to Syracuse. The atmosphere was just perfect: Carmelo Anthony was there, and the coaching staff was great — they made me feel wanted. 

It was like a movie. Your coach was a huge celebrity, and students would camp out before the games, even if it was freezing. They’d be covered in snow. And I would stop by and bring them food — games wouldn’t be as fun if we didn’t put 40–50,000 people in the stands every game.

We’d get home from away games, two, three in the morning. Some of us had class at 7:30. Forget that. Early classes and then practice in the afternoon? Actually, you have practice before practice. When practice starts, you should be in a full-on lather. You should be sweating.

You had a handful of the teachers that would be like, ‘Hey, I don’t care who you are. I’m not gonna pass you just because.’ So it was definitely a culture shock. And I had to learn how to be an adult and take care of my business. I learned that early, like my freshman year, when I was struggling with school. 

We weren’t expected to do much as a team, but we won 20-plus games every year. We won back-to-back Big East championships, and champions get an automatic bid to the NCAA tournament. That was a great feeling for us. 

Going into my senior year, I’m feeling great. My draft stock [for the NBA] had me going into early second round. And in my head, I was like, I’m going to work into the first round [so I get drafted]. But in our fifth or sixth game, I tore my meniscus. They told me if I had the surgery, it’ll be two months’ recovery. That was risky. And they were like, ‘Well, you can play with it.’ So I did. 

A lot of times during games, my knee would buckle, and it would just be painful. I was getting pain-shot injections before the game. After the game, I was getting fluid drained out of it. It took a toll. I still averaged decent numbers. But I was playing on one leg.

I had the surgery after the last game of the season. Turns out the decision to play on it was terrible — I ended up with two torn meniscus and needing a microfracture surgery. Which at the time was a career killer — killed Grant Hill’s career, killed Penny Hardaway’s career, killed T-Mac’s career.

I rehabbed on my own for six to eight months, but then I needed to support my family — I had a kid my senior year of college. My agent thought it would be better to go back overseas and show these teams that I’m still a really good player. So I went overseas. It was tough on my relationship at the time, but I needed to get the bills paid. 

I ended up playing for two years overseas. It was nothing like college at all. It was a grind. You get a little bit of perks because you’re getting paid, but the facilities are not as good. The doctors are nowhere near as good. The coaching is way worse, you know?

I played in like 12 different countries. Every time I moved, it was a different team, different country, different league. Greece, Argentina, Israel, Portugal, Romania, Ukraine, Japan, Korea, Venezuela, Bolivia. New Zealand.

Once I came back, I was like, we need to test the waters with the NBA. I need to see if I can get back on one of these teams. I came to L.A., did spring training with the Lakers in 2011. But they didn’t have any roster spots available. So I went to their G League team, the LA Defenders. Then Oklahoma City, when I got hurt again. I tried to play through it, but they could tell something was off. So I ended up getting cut, having another meniscus tear. A lot of teams were scared to touch me. 

I ended up getting some local jobs. I started my own car service business. And that’s when I got into doing Lyft. 

It just made sense. I had to keep myself occupied. So Lyft helps me do that and keeps the money flowing, and that’s important now with the kids getting old and college tuition coming up. 

My son wants to be really good at basketball. I’m like, do what you love. I’m gonna be proud of you regardless. But don’t try to do things because I did things. You’re not going to be who I was. We came up in different times, different atmospheres. Basketball was an escape for me. Basketball wasn’t an escape for my son. It was an outlet, you know? That makes a big difference. 

I tell them, just be passionate and give it everything you got. No matter what it is, it could be business, could be dancing. My daughter is like that. She does dance like I did basketball growing up.

If you really wanna get into basketball, you have to be passionate about it. There’s a lot of kids like me where the only way they see out of their situation is to make it professional. And they’re going hard every day. I was lucky enough to get out, travel the world, and do things I love to do. So I’m very thankful.

With TJ’s permission, this narrative has been edited for length and clarity.