CHAPTER ONE
“What did I tell you? Huh?” screamed the man standing over the younger man. He slapped the side of his head, his hair flopping into his eyes. “I asked you a question. What did I fucking tell you?”
“You said to take more,” he murmured low in the crowded gym.
“That’s right! You fucking pussy! I told you to take more because you’re a fucking pussy and nothing but a little shrimp. If you don’t take more, you won’t win more. Do you get it?”
“Yes, sir,” said the younger man nodding. He wiped the blood slowly dripping from his left nostril and turned back to the weight bench.
“Is everything alright over here?” asked the judge.
“We’re fine. Just do your job,” said the older man.
“Mr. Williams,” he started.
“It’s Coach Williams and you need to respect me enough to use that term,” he said, sneering at the judge.
“Fine. Coach Williams I will remind you that I am the judge of this event today. If I think at any moment you are abusing your athletes, using illegal or banned substances, or physically or mentally causing harm to the athlete, I will stop this competition.”
The man just stared at him, the boy bouncing on the balls of his feet back and forth. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to run or finish what he started.
“Do you understand me, Coach Williams?” Again the man just stared at him, not saying anything. “Coach, you will answer me with an affirmative or negative before we move forward. I will remove your athlete.”
“Don’t worry,Stan,” he sneered. “I understand perfectly.”
“Listen, Williams, let’s make this clear. I don’t like you and I don’t like what you do to your athletes. Everyone in here knows you’re doing it and somehow getting away with it. These are kids. Fucking kids. Just because you couldn’t make it doesn’t mean you need to force your kids into this shit.”
“I don’t really give a shit if you like me or not, Stan. I get paid a lot of money to make these kids successful athletes, playing their sport of choice in a Division I school and hopefully, after one year, they get some of that almighty NIL money and make mommy and daddy, and me rich.”
NIL money was referring to name, image, and likeness funds that student athletes could now receive, like a salary. For top athletes, it could be millions of dollars while they were attending university. Some people favored it, others thought it was too much for young men and women barely able to balance a checkbook, let alone manage funds in the millions.
“That’s your problem, Williams. You don’t care about these students, you care about the money they can bring in for you.”
“Excuse me,” said a man stepping up. “Is everything okay? Julius, are you okay, son? Your nose is bleeding again.”
“He’s fine,” said Williams glaring at the young man.
“No. No, he’s not fine. Julius, do you want to continue? You don’t have to. You don’t have to do this,” said his father.
“If he doesn’t continue he’ll be a fucking pussy loser,” said Williams.
“That’s enough!” yelled the boy’s father. “Julius, get your things. I think you need to see a doctor.” He nodded at his father, then looked back at the other two men.
“Thank you for stepping in, sir,” said Julius. The judge nodded at the young man.
“Go with your father. See a doctor and be honest about what happened. You don’t need whatever it was he gave you.”
“Fuck you!” yelled Williams. “Fuck all of you! You’re too fucking afraid to do what’s needed to make your kids winners. They’re fucking losers!”
“Get out,” said Stan. “Leave now or we’ll call the police.”
The man stormed from the room, two large gym bags slung over his back. His own muscles rippled with sweat, signs of acne on his back.
“Dad? Dad, I don’t feel well,” said the young man.
“Let’s get you to the hospital.”
Before he reached the door of the gym, the young man collapsed. Coaches, parents and medical personnel in the crowd rushed to his side starting CPR immediately.