I stood at the door with a knot in my stomach and a frog in my throat. While I considered turning around and walking into the gym, the door yanked open, scaring me half to death. I jumped back and screeched. “Holy shit.” He gasped in shock. “What in the fuck are you doing, Spaz?” I swallowed heavily. “Have you got a minute?” He exhaled loudly and gave me a stern glare. “For what?” I swallowed again. “To talk?” “I’ve got a gym full of future millionaires. Each fuckin’ one of them sure they’re going to win the next championship. All they need is a god damned chance. No, I don’t know if you’re ever going to make it. No, I don’t think you’re the best I’ve ever seen. Yes, I think you can be beat, and if you don’t remember what I told you, I think it’ll come sooner than you think. I think you need to work out less, eat more, and listen to everything you hear.”
