7:30 AM ET

Chris Wright, a former Georgetown University point guard, is picking up his kids from an after-school program at an Italian gym just after Thanksgiving. He wants to tell his life story in a quiet way, but his sneakers and yelps echo around us. Wright patiently said "Sit here, sweetie" as his daughter tried to get his attention.

Quiet is a monumental pursuit for a father of three, implausible when compounded by the schedule of a professional basketball player. The Italian wine township at the foot of the Alps is home to Wright, who plays for the Derthona Basket. He was halfway around the world when he began his basketball journey, which eventually led him to Georgetown, Europe and the NBA.

He found a shelter from the noisy children. Wright takes a deep breath, adjusts the camera, and shares the moment when the journey nearly derailed 10 years ago.

The year was 2012 and Wright was in Turkey. Wright was determined to mend fences after he and his coach butted heads. Defense was executed with floor-slapping zeal and sprint drills were completed with fervor. He went from being a target to a talisman. When he felt a sensation in his foot one day, he thought it was a sign that he had been using too much. He would sleep it off. He had a numb right hand, arm, and leg after the shooting drills the next morning.

He could not get out of bed.

I couldn't walk. Wright says that he fell to the floor.

Lying immobile and alone, 5,000 miles from his loved ones, Wright was afraid of what was happening to his body. He didn't know if he would ever walk again.

His identity and livelihood had been taken away. He would soon be diagnosed with multiplesclerosis, and his career was over. He had every reason to be bitter, but he didn't. He remembers the decision he made a decade ago, and the resolve he found: He wouldn't retire, he would relearn how to walk and run, and he would play basketball again.

He says that he never had a feeling that it was over.

After he was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, Chris Wright was told by several doctors that his days playing basketball were over -- but he never gave up his dream. Alessandro Grassani for ESPN

Chris Wright is a local legend after leaving Maryland. He left St. John's College High School as the school's all-time leading scorer. While he found success at Georgetown, a hand injury limited him during pre-draft workouts, and he went unselected. The NBA locked out its players and so Wright joined the Turkish league. He played the best basketball of his life, scoring 18-plus points in four of his previous six games in Turkey.

A doctor looked at Wright, who was still unable to walk, and admitted he could not find a culprit before clearing him to return to basketball.

Wright asked if he should go back to practice.

He was referred to a specialist in Istanbul, which was an hour away. It wasn't long before a diagnosis was delivered. He was looking at medical websites before he left the room. His heart sank.

Wright's diagnosis was leaked in local media as a friend drove him home. He was in a dead zone, without internet or cell reception, researching the illness that was causing havoc on his nervous system. He returned to his apartment and his phone exploded with calls and texts from his loved ones. Wright didn't talk to the media and he still couldn't walk.

Wright knew he had to return to Maryland.

If it weren't for John Thompson III, where his son Chris would be would be a sure thing. Thompson gave the Wright family access to the Georgetown team's medical staff when Wright returned home from Turkey in 2012 after four years as a coach.

It opened doors for us. You couldn't get appointments for six months, and we got appointments within a week.

Wright met with several doctors to get an assessment of his condition. Multiplesclerosis is a disease of the immune system that attacks the protective covering of nerve fibers, causing scar tissue. Communication issues between the brain and the rest of the body are caused by this.

Wright was told to retire by at least half a dozen doctors.

The Multiple Sclerosis Center of Greater Washington was opened in 2007. She came a long way from the neurology fellow at Medstar Georgetown University Hospital who initially refused to specialize in the disease. There was a lottery for patients to get it. Two more medicines came out in 1996, but they were draining and draining patients.

Chris Wright shows a book written by neurologist Filippo Martinelli Boneschi, who devotes an entire chapter to Chris' story. Alessandro Grassani for ESPN

The medications slowed the process but it wasn't possible to reverse the damage. According to the general consensus, life expectancy for multiplesclerosis patients is 7 to 14 years shorter.

She was an investigator in clinical trials for a once-a-month injection called TYSABRI. Almost 70% of patients who received the injection remained relapse-free, according to one study.

It was a game-changer according to Crayton.

Wright and Crayton met in 2012 She was positive about his chances of recovery. She was on the cutting edge of research and knew treatments had evolved.

His dad told him that basketball was his life and that he didn't understand.

Wright was not walking well and his sciatic nerve was throbbing. He began an aggressive treatment plan after 10 days of steroid shots. The John Cunningham virus, or JCV, is a problem for people with Multiplesclerosis, but it is harmless in others. A rare brain disease called progressive multifocal leukoencephalopathy (PML) can be caused by being above a certain threshold.

Wright was not positive. He would start monthly injections immediately and continue the treatment for a decade.

He set his sights on a return after the NBA Lockout. He learned how to move first, then play basketball a day at a time.

He told himself he would walk again, run again, jump, shoot, dribble, and everything.

Wright was on the Iowa Energy in the D-League in the 2012-13 season, and he averaged 15.5 points, 7.0 assists, 4.3 rebounds and 1.6 steals. He was an all-star by the end of the season, scoring 15 points and dropping seven dimes.

He was signed to a 10-day contract by the Dallas Mavericks. He became the first known NBA player with multiplesclerosis two days later. Wright went from nearly paralyzed to sharing a court with two other people.

He says that the universe spoke to him. I did it, but it wasn't supposed to be done. This is a live universe and I am living testimony to that.

The universe spoke in another way when he returned. It might have saved him just as much as Crayton did.

He fell in love.

Chris Wright signs autographs before a Dallas Mavericks game on March 15, 2013. Brandon Wade/Fort Worth Star-Telegram/Getty Images

Wright stops himself thousands of miles away.

He says that his family is the reason he has done something.

At 13 Wright met his wife. They dated briefly in high school, but ended up apart.

They wouldn't have reconnected if Wright hadn't fallen out of the bed. Those closest to Wright say that when walking wasn't a given and an athletic career wasn't a given, they were able to weather the storm.

Diane Wright says that their lives kept coming back together.

She played basketball at both Morgan State University and the University of Richmond. She was about to become an assistant coach at High Point University in 2012 when her father ran into her at a mall. He started treatment and her father told him to call her.

"My dad would never hook me up with a guy, that says something about Chris."

On their first date as adults, Wright spoke about his diagnosis. She searched for the disease under the table and felt the same dread that he did. She asked if he was okay.

After the first date, we decided that this was forever.

They would not fall out of touch again. His diagnosis was theirs.

Diane says that he wasn't sure what was going to happen.

Turkey was the last place Wright played. They married in 2015, have three children and live in the same area.

The D-League all-star and stint with the Mavericks gave Wright back his basketball life. The team in France called Italy after the baby was born. It was off to Puerto Rico, then Israel, before Italy called them back.

While traveling the world, still playing basketball, he keeps his family close and 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611 888-270-6611

"I kept grinding out, told myself I would walk again, run again, jump, shoot, dribble, everything," Wright says. "[Relearning] was the hardest part, but it happened quick." Alessandro Grassani for ESPN

Wright helped Italy's Victoria Libertas survive a battle to stay in the league in 2015, then was denied insurance in Israel before being accused of using steroids in Italy. He had tested positive for a banned substance that was used to treat narcolepsy. He was facing an 18-month ban when he defended himself in court. He missed free agency when his name was cleared.

Wright says that all the jobs he was up for were gone.

Stipulations are written into Wright's contracts to make sure he doesn't miss games due toMS. He was getting paid well and on time for the first time in his career after signing a two-year deal in Italy.

Wright says his wife loved that city and he was immersed in the community.

The Wrights were in Poland in March of 2020 when borders were shut down. Two hours after his season ended, Wright averaged 18.6 PPG on 51.7% shooting with 6.7 APG in the Basketball Champs League, and his family packed up and fled as the country closed down.

A deal was reached in Turkey of all places. Since 2012 Wright has barely been back. Wright says that he had to conquer that and that he broke down when he got off the plane.

He had a career-high 39.3% from deep.

Thompson says he knew he would play for a long time.

It has been a roller coaster.

Not one of those new metal smooth-riding ones.

The NBA door might be closed, but he says he has valuable years left before the coaching talk. He is all ball for now.

Wright says that he doesn't feel like he's losing a step.

Wright takes a photo of a Derthona Basket poster that features his image in Tortona, Italy. Alessandro Grassani for ESPN

Wright responded so well to treatment that he and Crayton decided to remove him from TYSABRI. He narrowly missed the threshold for JCV, terrifying his family. Since 2012 medicines have advanced. Wright was aware that he could handle a change.

It is hard for me to not get misty when I see him.

The treatment consisted of 20 pills over a two-year period. It was the only FDA-approved drug that had 10 years of safety data.

It does not wipe out your immune system like other drugs. The good kids come out to play and it takes away the bad guys.

Wright just finished his second year of treatment. Ten years after his diagnosis, he is free of medication. For the rest of his life, Crayton thinks thatMS will be a non issue. She knows it's too good to be true. It seemed pointless to devote her career to 15 years ago because of the illness. It is beatable now.

She asks why you do this.

Chris Wright drives past a defender in Milan, Italy, on Jan. 9, 2022. Roberto Finizio/Getty Images

Christmas presents and holiday decor fill Wright's Zoom backdrop. On-screen, the parents are visiting and fussing with their grandchild riding a high. Wright seems at peace.

I wonder how it feels to be medication-free considering how ridiculous that was a decade ago. March is the anniversary of his diagnosis, and it's also the month ofMS Awareness Month.

He peppers his reflections with wisdom from other people.

He concludes that it is about the endless pursuit of self.

The concept of time is novel. Wright's post-medication life will be a low-key affair. It's normal. Even boring.

As a spouse and father, Wright knows he can't be obsessed with basketball. He says that as a parent you have to leave it at the door. To make the most of.

Some urged her to distance herself, but she ran toward what scared her.

Those closest to Wright think he would thrive in a college program.

Wright says that if you want your soul to be felt through eternity, you should teach.

One day, but not yet. Wright has faith in the future.

At the end of the day, what is faith without any work?