Yaxel Lendeborg: From Struggle to Success

I can pinpoint the exact moment my life changed. It was 2019, my senior year of high school. I was at my friend Jose’s, lost in a Madden marathon. Around 10 PM, school night, my phone buzzed. It was my mom, texting: “It’s late!” “Where are you????” I replied, “Almost done here.” But she’d heard that before. She knew better.

She drove to Jose’s, honking the horn in the driveway. I jumped in the passenger seat… and then silence. She didn’t start the car. She just looked at me. She asked about my dad, about our arguments, about the growing hostility. I confessed I didn’t want to be home, around him. That’s why I stayed out so late.

We both started crying. My mom tried to broker peace, to find a way for us to connect. But it wasn’t working. I wasn’t making it easy. Then, the conversation shifted to my future. That’s when she said it: “Yax, I want you to do something for me.” I had no idea what she’d ask, but I knew I wasn’t doing well with anything.

A Turning Point

I was barely attending school, walking in the door but sleeping through classes. I was a class clown, scraping by with the minimum grade possible, often suspended. I wasn’t even allowed on the basketball team due to my grades. I was doing the bare minimum, and sometimes less. My mom was at her wit’s end. She even emptied my room – TV, game system, lamp, dresser, clothes, pictures, everything. Even the door was gone!

Looking back, I didn’t understand why I was acting out. It stemmed from my grandfather’s death. He was my second dad, someone who truly understood me. Losing him at age seven, so suddenly, changed everything. I remember coming home from playing outside to find my mom sobbing on the living room floor. I never felt the same joy again, losing all motivation.

By 17, I was going nowhere, sitting in my mom’s minivan while she delivered a harsh truth. She was crying, the most heartbreaking tears I’d ever seen. Seeing her pain was overwhelming. My T-shirt was soaked from wiping away tears. Everything was breaking down.

“You need to do what I tell you, Yax,” she said. She told me I needed to complete ten courses at a local community college in one year to graduate. My initial reaction was resistance. I argued about friends, schoolwork, everything. But then, I looked at her face. Everything changed.

A shiver ran through me. This wasn’t a joke. My mom, who worked two jobs and loved me unconditionally, was crying because of me. Why was I putting her through this? For a few seconds, it was pure pain. But that was it. I’d never been the same since.

A Promise Kept

Seeing my mom’s heartbreak changed my life’s trajectory. I went from arguing to promising to be better. Everything shifted. My mom saved my life that night. Everything I’ve achieved, I owe to her. She’s my guardian angel, my hero.

Recently, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. It put everything into perspective. We’ve had a bumpy journey, but I’m grateful for her unwavering support. I started those community college classes, and while it was tough, I kept my promise. I knew completing them meant I could play basketball again during my senior year.

From Baseball to Basketball and Beyond

Basketball wasn’t my first love – that was baseball. But I played hoops with my friends, and my size helped me hold my own. During my senior year, I got cleared to play, and we went on a ten-game winning streak, making the playoffs. My mom was in the stands, cheering me on. It was fun, but I wasn’t thinking about basketball beyond high school.

My mom, however, had other plans. She secretly worked to get me tryouts, making calls, sending emails, advocating for me. She got me into a basketball camp near New York for Dominican kids. I played well, and after the camp, she met with JUCO and NAIA coaches, pushing for me. She told me I was going to Arizona Western Junior College. I was devastated, but she wasn’t having it. She even threw me a going-away party without my knowledge!

I cried on the way to the airport, on the plane, and when I arrived in Arizona, feeling lost and alone. But then, I stepped onto the basketball court in Yuma, and everything clicked. A few years later, transferring to UAB felt like I’d officially made it. I was a D1 college basketball player.

The Journey to Michigan

I loved my time at UAB, enjoying the camaraderie, the food, and the success on the court. But then, my recruitment took off. Schools were calling, texting, sending letters. They were offering life-changing money. But I wasn’t focused on the money. I wanted a program that would help me grow as a player and a person, and prepare me for the NBA.

Michigan stood out. I admired Coach Dusty’s ability to draw up plays and his genuine care for his players. Growing up near Michigan, I always felt a connection to the Block M legacy. Every conversation with Coach May reinforced that feeling. My mom was excited about Michigan too. I committed without even taking a visit.

Michigan has exceeded my expectations. Coach May is the nicest coach I’ve ever had, focused on developing us as players and men. The team is filled with talented players, and we push each other to be better. We’re aiming for a national championship, and now, more than ever, I’m playing for my mom.

Her recent cancer diagnosis has been incredibly difficult. She’s undergoing chemotherapy, and while she’s strong, it’s been a long and hard process. I’m trying to be strong for her, but it’s not easy. I want to make her proud, to show her that her sacrifices were worth it. I want to win a national championship for her.

She’s always believed in me, even when I didn’t believe in myself. She’s given me so much, and now I want to give back. I’ve been able to get her a new Jeep and help with bills. She’s even become a local celebrity, getting free burritos at Chipotle! Seeing her happy is the greatest reward.

I want to be the person she always knew I could be. I want to make her proud. And I’m determined to do everything in my power to achieve that, on and off the court.

As ESPN reports, this journey is far from over.