"Come on in," a quiet voice said from inside.

Martin hobbled in and saw Coach sitting behind his desk, eating.

"Those look good," Martin said.

"Fish tacos," Coach Ken answered.

"For breakfast?"

"I eat them anytime and all the time," Coach Ken said. "Can't get enough of them ever since ... ever since The Day."

"What's The Day?" Martin asked curiously.

"That's a story for another time," Coach Ken said as he got up from his desk and directed Martin to sit down in a chair, walked over, sat down next to him, and faced him. He looked at him with the stare of a focused prize fighter and said, "Martin, I'm not a man who minces words, so let me get right to the point. I asked you here for a reason, and it's because I have a few important questions to ask you. First I want to know how bad you want to make this team."

There was a pause. "Real bad. Really bad. It means everything to me ... and my family," he said as he nodded his head.

"Okay, that's good. Now I have an even more important question to ask you. How bad do you want to be great?"

Martin thought for a moment, but before he could answer, Coach Ken continued, "Because let me tell you something. Making the team is a goal. But striving for greatness is a life mission. There's a difference, and you have to be honest with yourself and you have to be honest with me. Don't rush the answer. I want you to really think about it."

Martin paused for what seemed like an eternity. He thought back to playing Pop Warner football. Then travel ball and countless summer camps. Then high school and college ... and then last night's game. From the first time he ever touched a football and put on his helmet and pads it was always the same feeling.

"Yes, Coach, I want to be great," he answered confidently. "It's all I've ever wanted. I've always wanted to be the best."

"Why?" coach asked.

"I don't know. There's always been something in me that has driven me. Honestly, at every level that I ever played, I was the best. I worked harder and loved the game more than anyone I knew."

"That's not surprising, and that's why I'm asking you these questions," Coach Ken responded. "But you have to remember that every guy here was the best player on their team. Everyone here had more talent than everyone they played against. But making it in this league requires more than talent. What got you to this level won't get you to the next. And that leads me to my final question. Are you willing to pay the price that greatness requires?"

Martin didn't hesitate. "Yes. I'll do whatever it takes."

"You sure about that?" Coach Ken asked as he cocked his head to the right and squinted his eyes. "I'm not looking for just words here. You see, everyone says they want to be great, but very few are willing to pay the price. When a player asks me how to get to the next level, I ask them how much they want it. Because if you want it you'll be willing to pay the price and invest the time, energy, sweat, and dedication that greatness requires. People think it's all about talent. But talent isn't enough anymore. Everyone here has talent. It's about infusing talent with heart, soul, spirit, and passion. It's about doing the things that make the best of the best better than everyone else. And these things have nothing to do with talent," he said, raising his voice as he smacked his hands together.

"So, if you tell me you are willing to pay the price and you really mean it, then I will work with you and do all I can to help you. As iron sharpens iron I will mold you, develop you, train you, and teach to you to be the best of the best. But if you aren't willing to pay the price, then you just let me know. I will understand," he said lowering his voice. "I realize that not everyone is willing to pay the price, and that's okay. It's just that I'm not willing to waste my time on someone unless they want it as much as I want it for them. Life's too short. So I want you to think about it. I know you're probably a little shell shocked. Take the day and come to my office after practice and let me know what you decide. Be honest with yourself, Martin, and be honest with me."

"I will," answered Martin as he hobbled toward the door. He indeed was shell shocked, and he wasn't sure what hurt more, his ankle or his head. He didn't know Coach Ken had so much to say, especially to him, and he was surprised that he was willing to take the time to help him. "But before I leave, can I ask you a question?" Martin asked.

"Anything," answered Coach.

"Why me? Why do you want to help me?"

Coach stood up and gave Martin a big smile. "Three reasons, Martin. Number one, because I need a great running back that can make my linemen look good," he said with a hearty laugh.

"Number two, for reasons I'll tell you in due time.

And number three, because you have it. We don't know what it is, but I know it when I see it. I've also found that it can be developed, sharpened, and strengthened, and I'm just the guy to help you do it. I'll see you later."