asked. Kendrick looked around and scrunched up his mouth before answering. “Wrestling?” “Is that a question or a statement?” “A statement, I guess.” “Good answer.” Now Coach looked at Donald. “What’s your least favorite sport?” Donald put a finger to his chest as he asked weakly, “Me?” “Yeah, you.” At this point Donald could have said wrestling and he wouldn’t have been lying. But he said “track,” which would have been true any other time. His best friend Manny Ramos was a standout distance runner, but Donald had wanted no part of that sport, despite Manny’s frequent urging to join him at it. Coach’s smile got broader. “That’s too bad,” he said, “because guess what? Wrestlers run their butts off.” Coach made a circular motion with his hand. “Laps around the gym,” he said. “A nice steady pace. We’re not racing here, just staying in motion.” There was a collective groan from the group, but all of them started jogging. The gym was small and the corners were tight, but the jogging did seem easier to Donald than all those calisthenics. That changed in a hurry when Coach gave his next directive. “Every time I blow my whistle, I want you all to drop and give me five push-ups. Then pop up and get right back to the running. Start now.” And he blew his whistle. Donald dropped with the others and managed the five push-ups, feeling the strain all the way from his shoulders down to his fingers. Why am I doing this? he wondered. He kept wondering that for fifteen more minutes as they alternated running with push-ups. But when the session finally ended and he looked around at the exhausted wrestlers making their way to the locker room, he couldn’t help but feel more than a little bit proud to be one of them.