Imagine learning the intricacies of basketball without uttering a single word. That’s the reality for San Antonio Spurs rookie Carter Bryant, whose journey to the NBA is as unique as it is inspiring. But here’s where it gets fascinating: Bryant, though not deaf himself, grew up immersed in the deaf community, mastering the game in silence alongside deaf peers. Now, his story is getting louder—and it’s one you won’t want to miss.
Carter Bryant’s world has always been a blend of two distinct languages and cultures. Raised in a household where American Sign Language (ASL) was the primary mode of communication, Bryant’s first signed word was ‘ball.’ His mother, an ASL interpreter, and his father, a basketball coach at the California School for the Deaf in Riverside (CSDR), ensured the deaf community was at the heart of his upbringing. While Bryant could hear, his connection to this community shaped his approach to the game in ways few NBA players can claim.
From an early age, Bryant understood that defense would be his ticket to success. But unlike most players, he honed his defensive skills in silence, playing pick-up games with deaf kids where verbal communication was nonexistent. ‘You kind of have no idea what’s going on behind you,’ Bryant explained to The Athletic. ‘So you rely on your peripherals, your feet, and a natural feel for the game. It’s a different way of playing—one that forces you to trust your instincts and your teammates.’
And this is the part most people miss: Deaf players, Bryant notes, approach basketball as a sport of trust and dedication. Without the ability to hear what’s happening around them, they must communicate in the brief moments between action and rely on their teammates to be in the right place. This heightened sense of trust, combined with enhanced reliance on other senses, creates a style of play that’s both intense and intuitive. ‘If you watch a deaf basketball game,’ Bryant said, ‘you’ll see players giving it their all—every single time. I try to carry that mindset with me.’
Bryant’s upbringing was a delicate balance between two worlds. After school, he’d play at CSDR with deaf students, then head to the Grove in Riverside for pick-up games with hearing kids. His days were split between signing and speaking, and his life was deeply intertwined with families like the Valencias and Biskubiaks, pillars of the deaf community. His grandparents, Shelly Freed and Mike ‘Doc’ Torres, were fixtures in this world—Torres even earned a spot in the USA Deaf Basketball Hall of Fame. ‘For the longest time, I thought half the world was deaf,’ Bryant recalled. ‘That’s how immersed I was.’
This immersion gave Bryant a unique perspective, one he carried into his professional aspirations. A broken leg at the start of ninth grade became a turning point, fueling his determination to play basketball at the highest level. He began working out four times a day, setting up cones on the court to push himself in solitude. The sound of the ball bouncing and his sneakers squeaking became his soundtrack, and he fell in love with the grind.
That dedication propelled him through high school, college, and eventually to the NBA, where the Spurs selected him 14th overall in last summer’s draft. But the transition wasn’t seamless. At the NBA level, cones and solo workouts weren’t enough. ‘I was overthinking everything,’ Bryant admitted. ‘I realized how much playing against live bodies matters—that’s how guys get better.’
Struggling to find minutes early in the season, Bryant turned to the Spurs’ post-practice scrimmages, battling against teammates like Bismack Biyombo, Kelly Olynyk, and Jordan McLaughlin. These sessions became his classroom, where he learned to counter the tendencies of seasoned players and elevate his game. But it wasn’t until he was sent to the Austin Spurs in the G League that something clicked. ‘Mitch [Johnson] told me to stop caring so much,’ Bryant said. ‘He wanted me to play freely, to have fun.’
That freedom unleashed a new version of Bryant. He returned to San Antonio with renewed confidence, hitting 3s, making defensive plays, and—finally—converting his dunks. His growth earned him a spot in the NBA All-Star Weekend’s dunk contest, a surprising opportunity given his limited dunk attempts. But here’s the controversial part: Is the dunk contest losing its luster? With fewer household names participating, some argue it’s becoming less about star power and more about filling slots. Yet, for Bryant, it’s a chance to shine on the NBA’s biggest stage.
Beyond the court, Bryant remains deeply connected to the deaf community. He regularly interacts with deaf individuals, from DoorDash drivers to families at Target, and participates in events with deaf schools in Texas. ‘I see being deaf as a superpower,’ he said. ‘It’s about surviving and advancing, no matter the challenges.’
As Bryant steps into the spotlight this weekend, braids rolled in a style reminiscent of former Spur Kawhi Leonard, he carries with him the lessons of his unique journey. Whether he soars to victory or misses a few dunks along the way, one thing is clear: Carter Bryant’s game is getting louder—and the basketball world is listening.
Thought-provoking question for you: How do you think Bryant’s upbringing in the deaf community has shaped his approach to basketball? Could his unique perspective change the way we think about teamwork and communication in sports? Share your thoughts in the comments—let’s spark a conversation!
