Juice by Eric Walters; Eric

Author:Eric Walters; Eric
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: JUV000000
ISBN: 9781606862162
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers
Published: 2008-01-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

I strained under the weight, the bar balancing on my shoulders, behind my neck. In the last two weeks I’d increased my squats by twenty-five pounds. Part of the reason for the gain was that I’d learned how to balance the bar better. The other part was that I was stronger. I could feel it in my legs and see it in the mirror. Maybe I hated squats, but I’d keep on doing them. And I was sure that in eight weeks I’d hate them more often and with more weight.

I finished the last squat and carefully lowered the bar into the cradle with a metallic thud.

All around me, working the different machines, were the members of the team— our returning players from last year and a half-dozen others, students who Coach Barnes thought had potential and could make the team.

On the far wall were painted the words “Wall of Fame.” All the guys called it the Wall of Pain. There, for everybody to see, were our individual plans and results. In neat rows and columns were our weekly goals, each week listed separately until the first week of September.

Success or failure was there for everybody to see. So far, all we’d had were successes. Each guy, each week, had met or beat his goals. With Tony’s help and Coach’s encouragement, we seemed unstoppable.

There were also words of wisdom painted on the other walls: No Pain, No Gain; Reach for the Stars; You miss every shot you don’t take. When I read those words I could hear Coach’s voice. Maybe he did talk like he was writing bumper stickers, but they were sayings that did inspire me. He was one smart guy.

I walked over to where Caleb was working. He was skipping—one of the best ways to improve foot speed and strength. For the receivers, bulking up was the opposite of what they wanted to do. They had to build speed and agility and vertical leap, not raw strength.

Caleb was whipping the rope around, doing double skips and crossovers, the sound of the rope whistling as he worked. The rope sped up, faster and faster, and then he did a triple pass and stopped.

“Need…a…drink,” Caleb panted, sweat pouring down his face.

That sounded like a good idea. We walked over to the big fridge in the corner. It was filled with power drinks and protein shakes.

“What do you want?” I asked as I opened the door.

“Shake. Love those shakes.”

I grabbed two and handed one to him. Caleb flipped off the plastic top and took a big sip.

“I’ve been bugging Tony to tell me what’s in these so I can make my own at home,” Caleb said.

Tony made up the protein shakes, and he wouldn’t tell anybody what was in them. Some of the ingredients were obvious: ice cream, milk, protein powder and vitamins. But exactly what and the amounts were like a state secret.

“I just know that whatever it is, they work,” I said as I slurped down my shake as well.

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