MyGen | Emanuel Esposito, Guerri Napoli Basket
Basketball is a matter of time and space, yet it’s also the only Game capable of living, and adapting, in every time and every space. Generation after generation. To understand where the Game stands today, and where it’s headed, there’s no lens sharper than the voices of the LBA NextGen Cup, the highest expression of Italy’s youth basketball system.
They embody the quintessence of that so-called poetry in motion: the vocation of a sport that, by its very nature, leans forward, toward progress, toward evolution. In the shifting rhythms and expanding spaces shaped by this new wave, basketball becomes a mirror of contemporary culture: something to listen to, to explore, free from stereotypes and outdated frameworks. This is MyGen. A series of visions of the Game as it is, and as it will become.
Our guest: Emanuel Esposito, class of 2008, Guerri Napoli Basket
“I met basketball when I was barely three. My older brother played, and I was always there: on the sidelines, at practices, at games, sitting in the bleachers without really understanding anything except that I loved being close to it. At some point, someone basically told me, “If you’re always here, you might as well start training too.” So I picked up a ball. And from that moment on, it never really left my hands.
In Naples, basketball isn’t the main sport, not even close. But for the people who love it, it’s a real passion. And something is shifting: the level is rising, the interest is growing, and the fan base is finally starting to show what this city can be when it embraces the Game.
When I was little, I had my court. It doesn’t exist anymore, got torn down somehow, but another one stands close to where I live. That’s where I grew up: shooting with my dad, with my brother, just the three of us under the sun. Those are memories that stay with you.
People ask if Naples shaped my style. Honestly? I don’t think so. I grew up watching football, mostly with my dad. But my Game comes from instinct, not geography. I never sat there thinking about how I should play. It all came naturally.
Basketball is everything for me. I left home for it. I live away from my family for it. Right now, it’s my whole life. Off the court, I’m simple: I love being with my friends, with my family. And of course, in Naples you can’t avoid football, my dad is obsessed, and he passed some of that to me too.
The atmosphere at PalaBarbuto is incredible in its own way. There’s serenity, there’s trust: everyone believes in us, believes with us. That’s a huge part of why I’m here in Verona for the NextGen. I’m carrying that calm with me. Then, of course, wearing this jersey… It’s where I was born. It’s my city. Maybe I’m not representing Naples at the highest level, yet, but it still feels like a dream. A beautiful one.
On the court, I feel rhythm immediately. I can tell when a teammate is heating up, when he’s confident, when the game is flowing through him. And when I sense that, I know exactly how to help him stay in that wave. Sometimes it feels even better than scoring myself.
My generation… Sometimes people say we don’t take basketball seriously, that we don’t understand sacrifice. From the outside, maybe it looks like that. But anyone who really plays knows how much this sport gives you. Happiness. Purpose. A life. It hurts when people, even parents sometimes, call it a waste of time: because for many of us, it’s literally everything.
To the older generations who live off stereotypes instead of listening, I’d say this: open your mind. Try understanding what this means to us. You don’t have to agree with everything, no world exists where everyone agrees, but at least listen. Take it seriously.
I take it too seriously, probably. But that’s how it is when something becomes your entire world.
The NextGen brings pressure, of course. Sometimes you feel like the moment is bigger than you. But someone put trust in you to be here, and that trust means something. Anxiety doesn’t help; work does. All you can do is give everything you have and justify the confidence they placed in you.
And yes, there’s fear in basketball. It’s impossible not to feel it. Fear of mistakes, fear of letting people down, fear of messing up the rhythm for the rest of the team. But fear is part of the process. We’re young. We’re learning. Fear can keep you sharp, as long as you don’t let it freeze you.
Holding the ball… It’s responsibility first. Joy after. When the ball is in your hands, the whole team is there with you. You don’t get to do whatever you want: you have to serve the game, the moment, your teammates. What happens off the ball is just as important: everyone moving, cutting, spacing, helping the play unfold.
But when the game ends, when I’m home, or in the gym alone, holding a basketball feels like entering another world. A quiet one. A happy one. For me, the ball is both weight and freedom. Responsibility and escape. It is, in every sense, everything.
As for dreams? I aim for the highest possible version of myself. I invest so much time into basketball, again not wasting time, investing it, and I want that investment to come back as growth, as results, as fulfillment.
I don’t dream of becoming ‘a certain type of player.’ I want to be myself. I’m not obsessed with scoring; I’d rather see a teammate light up. I love putting people in rhythm, making the game easier for others. I love seeing their joy more than seeing my own celebration. That’s who I am: someone who plays for the group, not the spotlight.”
