G-League Chaplain Uses Hip-Hop to Lift Struggling Players

Andy Riemersma's 5-11 frame and three concussions ended his NBA dreams before they began, but now he's living inside the league in a way he never imagined.

The 30-year-old serves as chaplain for the Noblesville Boom, the Indiana Pacers' G-League affiliate, where he uses hip-hop music and pastoral care to reach players grinding through basketball's most uncertain level. On March 20, 2026, minutes before performing his song "New Day" at the Arena at Innovation Mile, Riemersma paced the tunnel tying his Jordan 11s and calming his nerves.

His lyrics hit close to home for the young athletes he counsels. "So many days, I never thought I'd make it out" reflects both his own struggles building ONE Church in Westfield, where he pastors, and the daily reality of players who don't know if tomorrow brings an NBA call-up, a release, or a plane ticket overseas.

Riemersma meets players in their anxiety with a simple message: your security doesn't come from basketball. If the game disappeared tomorrow, he tells them, faith provides a foundation strong enough to stand on.

Why This Inspires

What makes Riemersma's approach work is his genuine understanding of athletic disappointment. He wanted what these players want, felt the same drive, lived through similar crushing setbacks.

Now he's using music to break down the walls players build around their fears. Gabe McGlothan, who earned a 10-day Pacers contract in December 2025, grew so close to Riemersma during an internship at ONE Church that the chaplain let him preach a Sunday service in March.

Former player Stephan Hicks and current Boom athletes have found stability in Riemersma's message during the G-League grind. The chaplain calls it "God's roundabout plan," turning a closed door into an open window for dozens of young men facing the same uncertainty he once felt.

Riemersma still gets anxious before performances, but he knows the weight they carry. Every song, every conversation, every prayer in the tunnel is reaching someone on the edge of giving up, reminding them their worth isn't measured in minutes played or contracts signed.