Reggie walked the short, steep path from the clubhouse to the buildings next to the green on the eighteenth. He felt much the same way he thought ancient Roman gladiators had before entering the arena where they would almost surely find death just to please somebody else.
Desperation, pain, resignation, honor…all feelings he was experiencing himself. He could feel blood boiling in his veins. It was real fire, the one inflaming him and inciting him to enter in the arena to fight to the end with all his strength. Despite the pain he felt, he decided he would let it burn.
Carlos, ahead of him, turned a couple times, smiling. “Come on, man. You can do it.”
Reggie frowned. “Win this tournament?”
“No, survive what’s waiting for you…”
Perfect perspective.
The joke brought a little smile to
