Trey Moses has known what it feels like to carry something heavy since he was in seventh grade. Growing up in Louisville, playing basketball at Eastern High School, he had a great family, good friends, and everything that was supposed to make life feel okay.
But there was a sadness underneath that he couldn't explain and couldn't shake. As an athlete, as a young Black man, the message was always the same: be tough, push through, don't let anyone see you struggle.
At a very young age deep sadness settled in for Trey, seemingly overnight.
As a kid who didn't really have the language yet to explain what he was experiencing, he just knew that the feeling of not being around anymore often felt like the better thought to have.
Mental health challenges for children can be terrifying because all he knew for sure was that something was heavy, and he didn't know how to put it down.
Hollywood showed up at Ball State in 2016 as a freshman, and he and Trey became inseparable. They bonded over basketball, over their shared love of working with kids with disabilities through Best Buddies, and over something most people never saw: they were both fighting the same invisible battle.
Zach was someone Trey could actually talk to about about the hard stuff and the things athletes often won't say out loud.
The night before everything changed, they were celebrating Trey's birthday.
Zach was smiling.
He looked happy.
They hugged goodbye and both said, "Bye, love you."
The next morning, Trey woke up to four missed calls and two voicemails from Zach.
He was in a rush for class so would reach out afterwards.
He called back, texted, and heard nothing.
Later that day, he went to Zach's apartment.
Trey asked Zach's family for permission to wear his number for his remaining two seasons. He changed his jersey from 41 to 24.
Trey and his mother got matching tattoos: 241. Twenty-four to forty-one. It's also the highway exit to Ball State.
Two people, one fight.
Trey went on to play a school-record 132 games, score over 1,100 points, and grab over 900 rebounds.
He earned the 2020 NCAA Inspiration Award. (Click video thumbnail to watch!)
But if you ask him what matters most about his time at Ball State, he won't talk about the stats.
He'll talk about Zach.
In 2019, Trey founded 24 Reasons with no business plan and no roadmap.
Just a sweatshirt with the logo on the back and lines numbered 1 through 24 for people to write down their reasons to keep going. That simple idea became a foundation. A movement. A community.
Today, Trey plays professional basketball overseas while building 24 Reasons from wherever he is in the world.
He speaks to teams, schools, and communities. He shares his story with anyone who needs to hear that they're not alone.
And every single time,
Today, 24 Reasons hosts the Be The Reason Celebrity Basketball Game every year, bringing athletes, celebrities, and the Louisville community together.
And it's only the beginning.
The vision keeps growing: mental health programming for schools, a storytelling platform for athletes, and a community that refuses to let anyone carry it alone.
In 2019, Trey didn't have a business plan or a board of directors. He had a sweatshirt with 24 blank lines, numbered 1 through 24.
The idea was simple: write down your reasons to keep going. When you're in a dark place, your brain tells you there aren't any. This was a way to prove it wrong.
That sweatshirt became a conversation. The conversation became a foundation. And the foundation became a movement reaching student athletes who've never been told that what they're feeling is okay to feel.