an immense panorama of futility and anarchy, the stern doubting Thomas says

He would envision failure, moving from the abstract to the palpable. A huge failure, a blistering mind-fuck of failure that rattles around in certain peoples’ heads like gravel in an empty can, orchestrated, for no reason, other than being tired of unblemished success and domination. 4 years and 4 state championships, now a senior, chasing a record tying 5th: all that rolling around on a mat with other dudes, straining and pushing and pulling, inflicting pain and imposing will, did not prevent the fixation that he would end with his shoulders pin to the mat, not by an actual opponent (he did not fear this for he could not fathom it), but by purposelessness. It was the stuff of a bad dream, seeing the ref raise a hand and slam it down, a short piercing whistle, unable to move and no one out there with him. Pinned by nothingness, letting all the struggle seep out, and a crowd in the bleachers cheering at his humiliation

The countless times he heard it said “don’t leave anything left on the bone“ growing up, so it became engrained and part of him, like the involuntary smile that spread across his face when an opponent would flail in panic. To the same extent he was taught and came to internalize with no hedging the idea that saying no when everyone wants a yes is a sign of strength.