6フィート10インチの巨人

数字は嘘をつかない—でも誰も信じなかった

Still remember that day in the gym, sweat dripping off my jersey, watching Ulm’s Noa Essengue step onto that combine floor like he owned it. His stats? 6’10” barefoot. 203.9 lbs of pure muscle wrapped in skin that didn’t ask for permission. A 7’0¾” wingspan—that’s longer than most doorframes in this building.

We were told ‘tall is talent.’ But this? This isn’t height. It’s reach.

スタンディングリーチは数字じゃない—それは声明だ

When they measured his standing reach—9’1¾”—the scouts blinked like they’d seen a ghost. Nine feet one inch from floor to fingertip while barely touching air? That ain’t physics—it’s poetry written in bone and sweat.

I used to think big guys get lost in highlight reels. Now? They scroll past us—and then suddenly… we’re the ones who own the room.

手は武器のように—8” x 10¾”

His hands? Eight by ten-and-three-quarters inches wide.—like they were carved from a basketball god who forgot to wear gloves. You don’t need to be LeBron with those fingers—you just need to feel every pass like it was your last shot.

真のMVPは表紙じゃない—隅にいる

They called him ‘project.’ I call him proof. This ain’t draft hype—it’s human calibration. If you’re small and you’ve been told you can’t win? Then maybe… you just haven’t seen yourself yet.

Stand up tall—not because you’re big—but because your reach outlasts their doubt.