What an adrenaline-flowing weekend it was.
On Saturday night, the New York Knicks became the 2026 NBA Champions for the first time in 53 years. On Sunday afternoon, Lewis Hamilton crossed the finish line in Ferrari red, claiming a historic Grand Prix victory after nearly two years of doubt, testing a dream that refused to die.
I am a Jamaican-born woman counting up to 62 and in full bloom, and I watched both moments through a very specific lens: The Long Game. I have never felt more certain that our best chapters do not always arrive first.
Credit: New York Knicks / Scuderia Ferrari HP
Two champions. One weekend. The Long Game personified.
Credit: New York Knicks / Scuderia Ferrari HP
I was indoctrinated to be a Knicks fan since I migrated to the United States, when Sunday evenings in Brooklyn during game season had a particular rhythm and watching them was a ritual. Over the years I watched them from my own family room and live at Madison Square Garden, close enough to feel the vibration of that building in my chest. When you're a Knicks fan, you are just that. A fan through the lean seasons, the near misses, and the heartbreak. But the Knicks had NYC who believed in them, no matter what.
And then there is Lewis Hamilton. His bold, highly criticized move to Ferrari tested him in ways champions rarely speak of publicly. He admitted that hope felt impossible. But at 41 he became the oldest Formula 1 race winner since 1970, and from his car radio in Barcelona he said something that made me pause:
"Thank you for continuing to remind me who I am."
Seven world championships. And still, he needed reminding.
There are seasons where the scoreboard or the sales or the clients does not reflect your potential. Seasons where you need the people around you to hold the memory of who you are until you can hold it yourself.
Success can arrive quickly, or it can arrive earned. The earned version hits differently. It carries a gravitas the quick version cannot replicate; the authority of being grounded when walking away would have been easier.
And perhaps you have felt it too. Those grueling chapters that require you to show up long after the season stops feeling promising.
But during those seasons, I do not believe your best years are behind you. I believe they are simply being prepared.
My debut novel, Webs, Love & Fireworks, is its own proof of this. A story about love, legacy, and second chances that lived inside me for years before it found its way into the hands of readers across continents. None of it arrived quickly. But just like the dream you are currently holding onto, it arrived exactly when it was meant to.
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The dream that lived inside me for years. Now in the hands of readers across continents. |
The Long Game has a way of paying off in moments that take our breath away.
Fifty-three years of waiting became a championship banner. A man in red crossed a finish line and wept. And somewhere in London, a woman exhaled, smiled, and turned her audacity up a notch.
At AUBRIEA, we believe in the woman who showed up for her dreams. Who kept going when the scoreboard did not yet reflect what she knew was possible. When I create designs and messages, this is my
These pieces were made for her.
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Winning. Glowing. Thriving. Not goals but a state of being. Available now at aubriea.com |
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Your dream has a voice. |
The Long Game is indeed worth it. So turn your audacity up a notch.
xo, Marcia 🌹
Founder, AUBRIEA
Author, Webs, Love & Fireworks