Standing in the throwing ring, wind cutting across my face, I watched the discus fly.
I didn’t know if it would be enough.
But the second it landed, farther than I expected, I felt something shift.
That throw, imperfect as it was, clinched the national title.
And for a kid from Kingston who didn’t even know what a discus was until high school, that moment meant everything.
I never grew up dreaming of being a discus thrower. Honestly, I barely knew the sport existed.
Back home in Jamaica, my life was about school, hanging out with friends, and playing the occasional pickup soccer game. I tried cricket once. Lasted three days.
Throwing found me by accident.
Where It All Started
It was ninth grade, sports day at my high school, Kingston College.
Everyone had to participate in something.
One of my teachers pointed me toward the shot put and discus. I didn’t volunteer. I was more or less placed there.
That day, I threw the 4K shot put just 9.68 meters (~10.5 yards). Nothing impressive.
But something about it felt right.
There was a rhythm to it, a challenge.
And even though I was brand new, I felt like maybe—just maybe—I could be good at it.
Coach Caniggia, my high school mentor, saw something in me early on. He wasn’t just focused on athletics; he pushed me academically, too.
He made it clear that throwing could open doors to scholarships, to opportunities abroad, to a better life.
By the age of 15, I was on my first Jamaican national team at the CARFITA Games in the Bahamas.
That’s when it all clicked.
This sport could actually take me somewhere.
The Winding Road to Norman
I started college at Arizona State. But when my coach left, everything changed.
I transferred to another university, hoping for a fresh start, but it just didn’t work out. The team dynamics, the environment—it wasn’t helping me grow as a thrower or a person.
But that school did give me one thing: my wife, Maggie. We met during that time, and her support has meant the world. She’s an athlete too, so she gets it—the grind, the pressure, the highs and lows.
Eventually, I transferred again, this time to the University of Oklahoma.
The coaching philosophy here immediately clicked.
My coach, who recently retired, had a unique way of breaking things down.
We didn’t just talk about technique; we talked about physics.
Force, balance, timing.
As an engineering major, that made sense to me.
It transformed how I approached every throw.
A Throw That Changed Everything
Going into Nationals, I knew what I was up against. I’d be competing against the best, including the current world record holder.
I had visualized the win over and over, but that day, I had to make it real.
The throw that sealed it wasn’t perfect.
In fact, I thought I missed it. But it landed strong—good enough to apply pressure and hold off the rest of the field.
I still remember standing there, watching the final attempts. When I realized I’d won, it didn’t fully sink in right away.
Later, I learned I’d broken the meet record.
That I’d become one of only two men’s track & field student-athletes at OU to win a national title since 2009.
Then came another surprise: being named USTFCCCA Division I National Men’s Field Athlete of the Year.
I didn’t even know the award existed until my coach told me during practice.
All of it was surreal.
But it reminded me why I fell in love with this sport. Throwing keeps you chasing a rabbit you’ll never catch—the perfect throw.
It doesn’t exist. There’s always something to tweak.
And that’s what keeps me coming back.
More Than Medals
Representing Jamaica on the international stage has been one of my proudest honors.
Our country is known for sprinting, so being part of the throwing community and helping put it on the map means a lot.
Whether it’s the World Championships, the Olympics, or smaller meets, every time I get to wear that jersey, I’m reminded of where I started—and who helped me get here.
That includes Maggie. My coaches. My teammates. The community at Oklahoma.
OU has given me more than just athletic resources, it’s helped me grow as a person.
From a top-tier academic support system to training facilities and mentors who care, I’ve had everything I needed to thrive.
Balancing a 3.89 GPA in Industrial and Systems Engineering with elite training isn’t easy, but it’s taught me how to stay disciplined, focused, and grateful.
The journey hasn’t been perfect.
Right now, I’m managing a bone spur in my elbow. It’s frustrating, but it’s part of the process. Injuries come with the territory, and I’ve learned to trust the recovery just as much as the training.
Looking ahead, the goals are clear: defend my national title, stay healthy, compete internationally, and keep evolving—both as an athlete and a man.
But more than anything, I want to stay humble, stay hungry, and keep building on everything this sport has given me.
Because I’m not just chasing medals.
I’m chasing a legacy.
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