My name is Sincere Robinson, and I am a senior long jumper at Rutgers University. Four years ago, my sport and identity revolved around basketball. On the court, I was passionate, self-assured, and most at ease. My senior year of high school should have been a defining moment in basketball, but I started to experience restlessness rather than excitement.
The restlessness became louder over time, and through that, I began to sense that God was calling me to give up basketball. I initially resisted because it was overwhelming to consider leaving behind something I spent hours training for– and that I loved. Why would I have to quit a sport I loved so much? But through prayer, God’s message became clear- to trust in Him without needing to fully understand. The pivotal moment occurred one evening as I sat by myself contemplating my future. God seemed to be sitting next to me and gently reminding me that His plans are bigger than mine. “It is time to step out of your comfort zone,” He said it, and I could hear it.
Giving up basketball meant more than just quitting a sport, it meant letting go of my goals. While my basketball coach wanted me to keep pursuing, my track coach embraced me with open arms full of love. I knew I made the right decision and that God was guiding me in the direction of something much bigger.
Overall, transitioning out of basketball was a mix of excitement and nerves. In a way, I believe every basketball player hopes to achieve personal accolades—chasing that double-double, scoring 20-plus points, or just wanting to hit personal milestones. I was one of those players, and honestly, if I didn’t hit those marks, I’d feel a bit disappointed in myself, regardless of the outcome of the game. Because of that, transitioning from being part of a team to that competitive, individual-focused mentality in track made it easier. It took some time to adjust, but eventually, I found my rhythm and made it work. Something is amazing about competing under pressure. In track, I have a team that doesn’t just depend on me but trusts me to deliver when it counts. It’s different from basketball, where the mindset is more like, “We could’ve done better to win.” In track, it’s all about personal responsibility: “If you don’t execute, we’re not winning.” No pressure, right? But honestly, I thrive under that kind of pressure.
Overall, transitioning out of basketball was a mix of excitement and nerves. In a way, I believe every basketball player hopes to achieve personal accolades—chasing that double-double, scoring 20-plus points, or just wanting to hit personal milestones. I was one of those players, and honestly, if I didn’t hit those marks, I’d feel a bit disappointed in myself, regardless of the outcome of the game. Because of that, transitioning from being part of a team to that competitive, individual-focused mentality in track made it easier. It took some time to adjust, but eventually, I found my rhythm and made it work. Something is amazing about competing under pressure. In track, I have a team that doesn’t just depend on me but trusts me to deliver when it counts. It’s different from basketball, where the mindset is more like, “We could’ve done better to win.” In track, it’s all about personal responsibility: “If you don’t execute, we’re not winning.” No pressure, right? But honestly, I thrive under that kind of pressure.
When I stepped on the track and decided to go to Rutgers, something remarkable happened. Every step I had taken in faith seemed to be validated by God. I discovered a new level of strength, resiliency, and purpose– what began as an act of obedience developed into a growing demonstration of God’s fidelity. After my freshman year of college, I was named a five-time All-American, a Big Ten Champion, and an All-Big Ten Conference athlete, and awarded a full scholarship. I’m now among the best long jumpers in the nation, not just a newbie to the sport.
Even though those honors were exciting, it became apparent that this journey was about more than just individual achievement. Although the records, medals, and titles were a blessing, I had been given a platform by God, not to promote myself but to promote Him. During track meets, I began facilitating prayer circles with teammates and even rivals, fostering an environment where we could unite and recognize a purpose beyond athletics. After these experiences, athletes would come up to me with questions about faith or how to start a relationship with Jesus. This became the real triumph. They served as a reminder that being a conduit for God’s love and truth was more important than simply leaping far.
In retrospect, I see how God used my leap of faith to reveal a purpose far greater than I could have imagined. He didn’t just give me a new sport—He gave me a mission. My journey has become less about personal achievement and more about the legacy of faith, love, and obedience that I leave behind. It’s not about the records or recognition; it’s about the lives touched, the seeds of faith planted, and the light of Christ shining through. By answering God’s call, I’ve found not just success but significance—and for that, I am eternally grateful.
