Reggie was to play against Hardy, another American, and Dubois, a Frenchman. Theirs would be the third start on the first day of the tournament.
When the rising sun started coloring the Virginia Beach sky orange, Reggie was already up, clean and freshly shaven. With his hair still moist from the shower and the towel tied around his hips, he’d been staring at the four outfits he had put out on the bed for several minutes, trying to choose which to wear first.
He felt tired before the day had even begun. He hadn’t slept well the night before. Performance anxiety and the memory of his exchange with Russell Lee had kept him tossing and turning. As much as he tried, he couldn’t remember when he’d felt so disappointed in his life. Disappointed, humiliated, and embittered.
Not even when, back
