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a flicker of something crossed his face. I smirked. I wasn’t the only one thinking this guy had a few of his facts wrong.
    “All’s I know is the following: Stamina means never having to give up. Stamina means your body never builds up lactic acid. We’re going to get stamina this year, boys.”
    I made a mental note to look up the word stamina later.
    He had us lean up against the wall in a sitting position. I was fine for about thirty seconds, even when some of the other guys began to grunt. Then I felt it. The shaking, in my quads. I closed my eyes as Donnelly kept walking back and forth in front of us. He yelled, “Be like Mark Anthony and, uh …” Even with my quads throbbing, I almost laughed as he struggled to think of another name. “And all the other Roman leaders!” A few more painful seconds. “C’mon. Don’t you dare give up. First three to fail are doing laps the rest of practice. Hear me?”
    You can do anything for five minutes. This was something mydad used to say, and it was true. When I took swimming lessons as a kid, I hated the cold water of the lake we swam in. But if I didn’t pass, we wouldn’t be able to go Jet Skiing. Dad said: “Five minutes is nothing. You can do anything, anything , for five minutes.” So I did. I pretended I had a wet suit on, that the freezing water against my sides was a second skin, protecting me from the elements. And I started the crawl stroke and I didn’t stop until I heard the whistle.
    “And then there were four,” I heard Donnelly say, and I opened my eyes and realized I’d tuned things out so much that I didn’t know how long it had been. My legs shook something fierce, but I decided to keep going. I could win this. I could be the best. I could …
    “Nice try there, Goldberg. All’s I know is that’s a nice effort by the new guy. Way to show up on the first day.”
    I picked myself up off the gym floor, my quads still throbbing. I watched Steve, Ben, and Robinson, the final three. Robinson crashed soon after I did, and then there were two. Ben’s eyes were closed, and I saw a bead of sweat travel down the side of his face. His legs were like horse legs. His calves, grapefruit sized and finely matted with light hair, bulged and trembled. I wasn’t surprised when Steve fell first.
    “Ben Carver. He outplayed, outwitted, outlasted you all,” Donnelly said.
    Wasn’t that the Survivor TV show motto? I’d have to ask Albie and Toby later. Nah, probably not the right kind of survivor show.
    We went out to the soccer field. Natick has some of the best athletic facilities around, and that includes a gorgeously manicured soccer field surrounded by a track. I worked out with the midfielders. I’d always liked to run, and they did the most running.
    We scrimmaged. The ball came my way, and I dribbled up the sideline. Steve came over to defend. I knew I couldn’t get around him, so I faked as if I were going to try, and when he bit, I kicked the ball across the field. I had no idea whom I was passing to, but at least it seemed like the right thing.
    As luck would have it, Bryce was there. He stopped the pass by catching it with his chest, dribbled around a defender, and hit the top of the net, easily past the diving goalie.
    “Beautiful, Bryce. Great, great pass, Rafe. That’s the way,” shouted Donnelly.
    I was glad I’d made a positive impression, even if it was dumb luck. I was clearly not the best player, but I tried hard, and I wasn’t the worst either.
    I found Ben as we walked back to the locker room. “I think some long-passed Natick history teachers are turning over in their graves right about now,” I said.
    He smirked. “Wait until he starts using World War II analogies. He gets the Axis and the axis of evil confused.”
    “Sounds excellent,” I said as I held the door for him.
    “Some of the more disgruntled upperclassmen made a big stink about it last year. Natick is famous for pushing these sorts of things under the table. We