The Lawn Ranger

“So, Jarod, how’s your business going?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“I’m doing better and better. But I wouldn’t really call what I have a business yet.” Jarod’s hands turned up. “I’m still just a guy pushing a lawnmower.”

“I see. And what defines a business?”

“Well, take Bill, for example. He’s got a business. His trucks are all the same color, and they’ve got his logo on them. He has proper receipts. He’s got a staff with t-shirts that say Greenscapes Lawncare: We’re Here to Serve. He’s even got a secretary taking all his calls.”

“Without the t-shirts would it still be a business?”

“Sure.”

“What if Bill’s trucks didn’t have his logo?”

“I guess. But—“

“But what?”

“It feels different, what Bill’s got. I don’t think of myself that way.”

“Precisely. Because once you get past all of the t-shirts, logos and other minor details, you’ll find that only one thing separates you from a legitimate business.”

“What’s that?”

“Mindset. Businesses take themselves seriously, and you don’t.”

“I take myself seriously.”

“Do you? Why don’t you try, just for a day, to think of yourself not as a guy who pushes a mower, but as the head of a landscaping business? See how that affects you.”

Jarod bounced into class the next morning. “What do you all think?” He held up a piece of paper for all to see.

“The Lawn Ranger?” Darnell asked.

“Glad to see you made an Identity Card,” I said. “That’s a great nickname.”

“It’s not a nickname, it’s the new name of my business.”

“Why not Jarod’s Landscaping or something like that?” Darnell asked.

“At first I wanted to call it Jarod’s Lawn Care, but I thought about Bill and how he has this huge staff of guys not named ‘Bill.’ This name allows the business to grow into something bigger than me.”

“Where’d the name come from?” Darnell asked.

“Believe it or not, it’s what my grandfather has called me ever since I started mowing. He’s a Lone Ranger buff. I thought it was catchy.”

“That’s a real shift,” Mr. Griffin said.

“I took our conversation yesterday to heart.”

“So what now?”

“Well,” Jarod pulled out a notecard, “my girlfriend Emily and I made a list last night of all the things that a legit business has that I don’t. You were right that none of them, other than taking myself seriously, is a big deal, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have to get them done. Tops on my list are registering with the state and making a logo. Kelvin, are you up for helping me on the design?”

“Sure,” I said.

“But this time I want to pay you. A proper business compensates people for their services.”

“Welcome back, Christy,” Mr. Griffin said on Monday morning. Christy hobbled into the room on a pair of crutches. Jarod walked in behind her, carrying her backpack. “How are you feeling?”

“Better the last few days.”

“Wonderful.” Mr. Griffin sat down on the edge of his desk. “Now that we’ve got the full Mastermind Group back together, why don’t you update us on all that’s happened.”

Christy shared about the accident and about how depressed she felt afterward. “Then Kelvin told me that my response would be one of those moments that define the rest of my life, just like you told Darnell after Thanksgiving. He helped me turn things around and create an Identity Card. I don’t want to fall into depression.” Christy swallowed. “I had nothing else to do with my time, so I’ve been spending almost two hours a day in front of the mirror reading my card and thinking of examples to back up each statement. I’m surprised at how much it’s helped.”

“I’m glad to hear it’s working so well for you.” Mr. Griffin stepped up to her desk. “Now please give us a full update on how your other card is going.”

“What other card?”

“Your swimming card, of course.”

“Have you seen me? My swimming season is done.”

“You still have your swimming card?”

Christy tightened her brow. “Yeah. So?”

“Read it.”

Christy pulled out a worn notecard from the bottom of her bag and read:

“Stop,” Mr. Griffin said. “That’s enough.”

Christy sent him a look that said, ‘no kidding,’ and shoved the card back in her bag.

“Wait, Christy. Not yet. You still haven’t updated us on your progress.”

“The progress, Mister Griffin,” she said his name slowly, with mock respect, “is that my swimming season is oooooooover. I couldn’t beat a tortoise in a race. I have failed!” Christy grabbed either end of the notecard and was about to tear it in half.

“That’s strange.” Mr. Griffin stepped to the front of the room and leaned into his chair, “I don’t recall your card mentioning anything at all about swimming. Read it again.”

Christy’s eyes narrowed, but she wasn’t one to refuse a teacher.

“Again,” Mr. Griffin said, “I don’t hear a single step that involves swimming. Do you?”

“The swimming part is obvious. You can’t win a championship if you don’t swim.”

“I agree that you can’t win a championship if no one swims. But even before your accident, the two best swimmers on the team were not even planning on racing.”

“Who’s that?”

“Coach Sue and Coach Dana, of course. Not everyone needs to swim for the swim team to be successful.”

“Look, Mr. Griffin, I know what you want me to say, that I’ll push through anyway and captain the team to the championship, even if I can’t race. That sounds good and all, but it’s just not happening. I know our girls. I know who can do what. And without me racing, we’ll still win some meets, but we can’t win it all. It’s hopeless.”

“Hopeless? Remember, that’s what you said a couple of months ago. Yet, a few weeks later you’d discovered your hope.”

“But I’ve already done everything I could think of to help the team win.”

“Did you? That wasn’t my experience.”

Christy’s fist tightened under her desk. “What was your experience?”

“I saw that you worked like hell to get the team to the point where you thought you had a good chance of winning the championship. Once you thought you were good enough, you became content to ride it out.”

Christy’s lips trembled. “What more could I have done?”

“I don’t know,” Mr. Griffin shrugged. “But when was the last time you used your Mastermind Group to brainstorm how you could make your team better?”

Christy’s shoulders dropped, and her voice quieted. “I guess it’s been over a month now.”

“I can’t stress enough, Christy, how important it is to see your goal through to the end. Kelvin was right that your response to this accident could define the rest of your life. But it’s not enough to just get over this, to bring your life back to being almost as good as it was before. Something positive must come out of this accident.”

“What possibly could be positive about this?”

“I don’t know, but remember, life happens for you, not to you. Somewhere inside this accident is embedded one of the greatest lessons of your life. If you let the accident hold you back, if you let it demoralize you, you’ll likely never discover it.”

“So how do I find it?”

“By pushing through to your goal. Besides, keeping your goal might be just the thing you need to accelerate your recovery.”

“How can the goal help with recovery?”

“Strong goals pull. They’ll pull you out of bed in the morning, pull you through bad days, pull you through distraction. It can even pull you through a disaster as long as the goal is bigger than the disaster. But if you decide that the disaster is bigger than your goal, it can lead you to despair.”

Christy turned to us. “Guys, do you agree? Is there anything I can still do to get the team back on track?”

Jarod raised a finger. “It seems to me that the only thing that’s changed is that you’re down one top-notch swimmer. You think any of the younger girls can step up?”

“And replace me? I don’t mean to be arrogant here, but no freakin’ way.”

“Then what about someone not on the team?” I asked. “Didn’t a bunch of girls approach you when that article came out in the local paper?”

“Yeah, four girls asked if they could join, though one of them homeschools, so she’s not even eligible.”

“But you’ve never actually seen any of them swim, right?” I said.

“What are you suggesting? New try-outs? You really think there’s some star swimmer out there who didn’t bother trying out on time?”

“I know it sounds stupid, but what have you got to lose?” I asked.

Christy shrugged. “I guess nothing.”

“Who knows,” I added, “maybe you could convince that homeschool girl to enroll for the semester.”

“Let’s see if she can swim first. You have no idea how many girls who try out can barely do a butterfly. Any other ideas?”

“Diet,” Darnell said.

“Diet?” Christy chuckled. “These girls aren’t exactly fat, Darnell.”

“Diet is about a lot more than just losing weight, you know.”

“I know that,” Christy said, “but when did you learn that?”

“A lot can happen in two weeks. I’ve learned quite a bit since Christmas.”

“So have I,” Christy said. “But finish your thought.”

“Well, with the right diet, I bet a bunch of these girls could start performing better. But I wasn’t thinking about them anyway. I meant for you. I was watching a video the other day about how your diet impacts your recovery time from injury.”

“You think a change in what I eat is going to suddenly allow me to come back a month early? Because that’s what I’d need to be ready for States.”

“I think,” Jarod said, “that when you put your mind to something, you’re a force to be reckoned with. The Christy I know would have been lifting weights in the hospital if she thought she could come back in time.”

“Jarod, you have any idea how long it takes to come back from a broken leg?”

“Not really. Do you?”

“The doctor told me I shouldn’t expect to walk without a cast for two months.”

“Then it’s a good thing for you the state eliminated that pool walking event from the championships.”

Christy shoved her finger in Jarod’s chest. “You got a point, funny guy?”

“I expect swimming puts far less stress on your legs than walking. Do you know how long it’ll be before you’ll be allowed back in the pool?”

“I assume not until the cast comes off.”

“Sounds to me like you don’t know,” Jarod said. “What can you do now to prepare the rest of your body so that the moment you can use your leg again, you’re ready to go?”

Christy thought for a moment. “You know, I really don’t know.”

“So who does?” Darnell asked. “Is there an expert you can ask?”

Christy chewed on her lip. “Coach Sue might know. Or at least she’d know who to ask.” She swallowed hard and added, “I’d better speak to her about that as well as scheduling new try-outs. That’s her decision anyway. Darnell, can you help me figure out how to shift my diet?”

A grin brought out the dimples in Darnell’s cheeks. “Gladly.” It was probably the first time in his life anyone asked him for advice on food.

“Coach Sue thinks there’s a slim chance I can make it back,” Christy reported the next day. “Though even if I can, I won’t be the same swimmer this year.”

“How long until you can get into the pool?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“The doctors planned to replace my cast with a smaller one in about two weeks. Coach Sue told me that if they make the new one waterproof, I’ll be able to get into the pool almost immediately. She said swimming anyway puts far less strain on a break than running, so the chances of re-injury are slim.”

“What did she say about new try-outs?”

“At first she said no. She said we don’t go reforming the team every time someone gets hurt.”

“At first?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“She eventually relented when I explained how committed I was to winning the state championships and how guilty I felt about the accident. She doesn’t expect anything to come of tryouts, but she told me she’d come to the pool a half hour early today and would check out any girl wanting to join the team. So I’ve called all the girls that had been in contact with me earlier. One is no longer interested, but three are coming.”

Mr. Griffin smiled. “Let this be a lesson to all of you. When there’s a disagreement between two people, who wins?”

“I would have said the one in charge,” Jarod said, “but it didn’t work out that way this time.”

“How about the one that’s the loudest?” Darnell said.

“No way,” Christy said. “The surest way to lose with Coach Sue is to raise your voice. She won’t have anyone challenging her authority.”

“In my experience,” Mr. Griffin said, “90% of the time the one with the greatest will prevails.”

“So you think Christy won because she wanted it more?” Jarod asked.

“No. Will and desire are not the same thing, though desire certainly plays a role. Christy had a clear outcome and an iron will. Coach Sue only had a general idea about what she wanted and clearly didn’t care all that much if it went her way. Despite being louder and having all the authority, she had little chance.”

“One more update,” Christy said. “Darnell’s been a champ at digging up information. I’ve already started on his Popeye diet.”

“Popeye diet?” Jarod asked.

“That’s what I’m calling it,” Christy said, “because he’s got me eating all this spinach.”

“Not just spinach,” Darnell said. “But spinach is high in calcium and zinc, both of which are important for injury recovery. Broccoli, cabbage, and kale are also good. She also needs vitamins C, D, and K, as well as protein to rebuild the bones.”

“If she needs calcium and protein,” Jarod said, “why not just put her on cheeseburgers?”

“She needs foods that are anti-inflammatory.” Darnell’s temper rose, then calmed down when he saw that Jarod was just messing with him. “Beans are good for protein, and if she adds turmeric they’ll be even better.”

“Wow, you really know what you’re talking about,” Jarod said.

“Not really. I didn’t know any of this yesterday. I spent a couple of hours last night going through websites that have articles on this stuff. I don’t even know what turmeric tastes like.”

“Still,” Mr. Griffin said, “it sounds like you’ve been learning quite a bit about food. I imagine that’s been helping you move toward your own goal?”

“Yeah.” Darnell’s voice sounded surprisingly unenthusiastic.

“Something bothering you Darnell?” Mr. Griffin asked. “Are you finding the new diet hard to keep?”

“No, the diet’s been great. The more I learn, the more I enjoy cooking. There are a few healthy chefs I’m following on YouTube and, though my dishes don’t come out looking anything like theirs, I’m improving, and the food tastes far better than I expected.”

“So what’s the problem?”

Darnell twisted the cap on and off his pen. “It’s my goal.”

“Ah, you’re not losing weight as fast as you’d like?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“No, that’s not it. I’m on pace to easily exceed my goal this month. I just don’t feel motivated by it any longer.”

“Why not?”

“Well, when I started, I was just sick of being a fat guy. Each day I’d jump on the scale, and if my weight had dropped a pound, I was thrilled. If it climbed, I was devastated.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m dragging myself onto the scale, and even when I see my weight drop, I don’t care all that much.”

“What’s changed?” Mr. Griffin asked.

“I guess I’m seeing that if I eat right and get the exercise I need, the weight will take care of itself.”

“So what do you find motivating?”

“Believe it or not: learning. There is so much about food and health that I didn’t know. I mean, I knew my eating was unhealthy—any idiot knows soda and ice cream aren’t good for you—but I really couldn’t have told you what a healthy diet looked like. I’m enjoying learning about new foods and preparing them. And I love the fact that I can feel the difference. I have more energy and stamina. But reading my card isn’t all that motivating.”

“It sounds to me like you’re ready for a new goal.”

“It’s OK. I’ve only got a week to go ’til I hit the deadline on this one. I should make it easily. I’ll make myself a new card then.”

Mr. Griffin laughed. “Why wait?”

“Why wait? Mr. Griffin, you’re always telling us the value of seeing our goals through to the end. Jarod spent $200 on Cirque du Soleil tickets and ditched a day of school because you wouldn’t let him budge on his goal.”

“The show was excellent, by the way,” Jarod added. “My girlfriend and I went last week. Not sure I’d spend another $200 to do it again, but I have no regrets.”

“See?” Darnell said. “Now you want me to drop my goal with a week to go?”

“Jarod’s goal,” Mr. Griffin said, “was still meaningful to him. He just wanted to give it up because he didn’t think he could make it. That’s a time you’ve got to push through, or else you’ll find yourself giving up whenever you face an obstacle. But your goal, Darnell, has lost its juice. In fact, seeing your face when you talk about it, I wonder if the goal is demotivating you. What possible purpose is there in holding onto a goal you couldn’t care less about reaching?”

“I do want to reach it,” Darnell said, “because I want to be a person who sees his goals through to the end.”

“Go to any law school and ask the third-year students about their career hopes. You’ll be shocked at how many of them have already decided that law is not for them but are sticking out their degree because they think it’s important to finish what they begin. Meanwhile, they’re racking up a fortune in debt and wasting time they could be spending building something they do want for their lives.”

“So you’d have them quit?” Darnell asked.

“Absolutely. I’ve never understood why quitters get such a bad rap. I’m a huge fan of quitting.”

“You?” Christy said. “After all the hell you gave me yesterday when I wanted to quit?”

“Again, it all depends on the reason you’re quitting. You, Christy, are dying to win the state championship in swimming, you wanted to quit because you thought it was beyond your reach.”

“Still do.”

“That may be, but my point is that you still want it. I know that you’re capable of so much more than you realize. My aim is to make you see that as well. So no way I’m going to let you walk away from a goal just because it’s hard.” Mr. Griffin stepped in front of Darnell’s desk and leaned in. “But a goal that you no longer want? That you no longer find motivating? Chuck it. Find your fire. Find your passion. Create a new goal that lights you up and go after that.”

“So what should my new goal be?” Darnell asked.

“You tell me. Where are your passions right now?”

“My passions are in learning more about food and how to cook healthy meals.”

“So there you go. You need to create a goal around that.”

“But I don’t see how it fits our structure. Weight was such an easy goal because it’s so measurable. How do I write ‘learn more about health’ into an Outcome Card?”

“You’re right, it doesn’t fit our normal structure, and it’s important that milestones be measurable. However, there’s a big difference between lead and lag measures.” Mr. Griffin grabbed a new notecard for Darnell. “Go ahead and tear up that old notecard. We’re going to replace it with what I call a Continual Growth card.”

Darnell’s face lit up like a kid before a piñata as he tore his card to shreds. “How do I make a Continual Growth card?”

“Continual Growth cards are almost a hybrid of our Outcome Cards and our Identity Cards. Like the Outcome Cards, they do have a clear objective, but the objective is not measurable, and like the Identity Cards, there’s no end date.”

“I thought you said it’s important that we choose measurable objectives?” Darnell asked.

“It is. But on Continual Growth cards, it’s the steps, not the objective, that are measurable. Also, we’re going to shift from lag to lead measures. Lag measures tend to be easier to get our heads around, but lead measures can be far more powerful.”

“What are lag and lead measures?” Jarod asked.

“A lag measure comes after the work. For instance, if you want to see how much weight you’ve lost in the last week, you can hop on a scale. The lag measure tells you nothing about the future, just what you’ve done in the past.”

“So a lead measure is a future based measurement?” Jarod asked.

“Precisely.”

“Can you give us an example?” Christy asked.

“To get in shape, I’ll go for a 5K run every morning at 6 am,” Mr. Griffin said. “It tells you exactly what you’re going to do, and when you’re going to do it.”

“So then how will I know when I’ve met my objective?” Darnell said.

“You never will. That’s the idea, it’s a card focused on an area where you know you’ll want to keep improving indefinitely.”

“So I’m going to be stuck with this card for life?” Darnell asked.

“You’ll have it as long as it serves you. I’ve torn up many Continual Growth cards over the years, not because I achieved their objective, but because my priorities changed.”

“When we started this whole card business,” Jarod said, “you were pretty insistent we have a clear goal with a timeline.”

“I was. Continual Growth cards are simpler, which ironically makes them harder to keep to. I always recommend starting with the Outcome cards and adding Continual Growth cards only once the notecards are a part of your life. Darnell, what’s your objective?”

“Well, I want to learn more about health and cooking.”

“Is that your objective, just to learn?”

“No, I guess not. My objective is to be healthy.”

“Better. But ‘be healthy’ is rather blah language, isn’t it? Let’s see if we can’t spice it up a little. We want to come up with something that will give you an emotional charge.”

“Um…Like what?”

“Start by throwing out some words. What are things you want?”

“Health. Energy.”

“Mastermind group, help him along.”

“How about vibrancy, Darnell?” I said.

“Stamina?” Christy said.

“Yeah, those are good,” Darnell said.

“OK, so for a first draft,” Mr. Griffin wrote on the board, “let’s try:

“Mastermind group, what are things Darnell can do to reach this goal?”

“I know Darnell’s been watching food videos while on his treadmill,” I said. “It sounds like that’s been working.”

“And cooking meals,” Christy said.

“Correct,” Mr. Griffin said, “but remember, on the Continual Growth Cards, the steps have to be measurable.”

I chewed on my pen. “So could a step be to watch at least one hour of health videos each day while walking on the treadmill?”

“Precisely, Kelvin. Christy, can you make the same change to your step?”

“Uh, OK. So Darnell could make sure to cook at least one healthy meal per day. Would that work?”

“Don’t ask me. Darnell, what do you think?”

“It sounds pretty good.”

“Just pretty good? If that’s all, then we’re not there yet. What do you think we’re missing, Darnell?”

“Well, I like the learning, even if it’s not just for me. Last night, when I looked up how diet can help recovery from injury, I was fascinated by it, even though I was looking it up for Christy. But the way we have it here, it doesn’t support my objective.”

“I see what’s bothering you,” Mr. Griffin said. “Can you see how to fix it?”

“Well if I want to be doing more learning, even if it’s not for me, then it seems like the learning itself needs to be in the objective. Right?”

“You know Darnell,” Mr. Griffin said, “I do believe you’re getting this.”

“The same goes for the cooking,” Darnell added. “If I wanted to cook just to have healthy foods to eat, I could get by with just making the same things over and over. But I’m having fun experimenting with new ingredients. So I think that should also be in the objective.”

“Wonderful. Write it out and read off your new objective.”

Darnell bent over his card. “Got it. It now says:

“I want everyone to notice,” Mr. Griffin said, “that I used the phrase ‘continually grow’ when I wrote a draft of the card, and Darnell changed that to ‘continually improve’ and ‘continually increase’ on his version of the card. Does anyone see a problem with that?”

I knew Mr. Griffin was meticulous in the language he used for these cards, but I couldn’t see the issue. Apparently, no one else could either.

“Good,” Mr. Griffin said, “I’m glad no one said anything. For the fact is, there is no problem. Darnell preserved the function of the card while switching to language that spoke to him. Using language that inspires you is key to the effectiveness of the cards. So Darnell, how do you feel about your new card?”

“It’s a big improvement over the old one.”

Christy invited me to watch the swim team tryouts since they were my idea. I suspected she just wanted me to see with my own eyes how pathetic the new girls would be. Though she was going along with the steps we suggested, she wasn’t particularly optimistic they’d make a difference. I’d had enough experience by now with the notecards to know that was still OK. They were a tool for building momentum and didn’t need to create an overnight miracle.

“What kind of girl…” Christy had just gotten her first glimpse of the potential recruits, “shows up for a swim team tryout in a bikini?” She shot me a look that said this is all your fault, then hobbled off to join Coach Sue by the side of the pool.

I actually thought the girl in the bikini looked quite good. Until she got in the water. Christy watched her swim all of two ungainly strokes, then flipped me the finger. Bad as she was, at least she wasn’t the worst of the girls trying out. The second girl hit the water with such a splash that even I got wet in the bleachers. This time, Christy just laughed in my direction.

The third girl sat reading a book, not even watching the first two trials. She was the only one of the three who bothered to wear a swim cap, though admittedly it looked pretty stupid with her reading glasses over it. Coach Sue called out to her, “Amanda, it’s your turn. Amanda!”

The second call got her attention. She removed her glasses, lay them on her book, and stepped to the edge of the pool. Coach Sue held out her stopwatch. “On your marks, get set, Go!”

Now I’d never actually been to a swim meet, so I didn’t have much to compare her to, but damn, that girl was fast! Christy and Coach Sue exchanged a look. When Amanda reached the end of the pool, she turned awkwardly, not like the flip-turns I’d seen Christy do the first time I’d attended practice. Coach Sue kept peeking down at her stopwatch and slammed down the hammer the moment Amanda hit the edge of the pool. She held it out for Christy to see and the two of them spoke in hushed tones.

Amanda pulled herself out of the pool, and I slipped down from my place on the bleachers to listen in. Coach Sue said, “Nice job,” and strode away to deal with the girls arriving for practice.

Amanda toweled off and approached Christy. “Your coach didn’t seem so pleased with me.”

“She had mixed reactions and said it’s my call as captain.”

“Isn’t that normally the coach’s decision?”

“Normally. But I’m the one who needs replacing, and I wanted the tryout, so she’s passing the decision off to me.”

Amanda bounced on her tiptoes. “So…am I on the team?”

“Why don’t you shower and get dressed, and we’ll discuss it.”

Amanda shrugged and headed toward the locker room. Once she was out of earshot, I said, “You’re going to take her, right?”

“I’m not sure.”

“No? I don’t know much about swimming, but she seemed good. How was her time?”

“I’ve swum as fast as she did that first lap twice before, but never in practice.”

“She’s faster than you?”

“Only on that first lap. Her turn was awful. She’s clearly never been coached.”

“But with a little coaching, she can be good?”

“Yeah. But Coach Sue already worked with the team on turns early in the year. She’s not interested in changing her coaching for one girl. She can give me a little bit of Coach Dana’s time to work with Amanda, but mainly, if I want her to get good, I’d have to help her myself.”

“Are you able to do that? Are you good enough to help her out?”

“Yeah, I could. Especially with Dana’s help.”

“So what’s the question?”

“She’s the homeschooler.”

“So she can only swim if we convince her to enroll in school?”

“Right.”

“Well, maybe she’s prepared to. After all, she got in touch with you, so she wants to be part of this. And she’d only have to be in school for a couple of months anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Something didn’t add up. Christy thought the team had a great chance at winning the state championship before her accident. Then, with her injury, she thought there was little chance. Now she found someone who could be even faster than her and get the team back on track. Why was she so lukewarm? “What’s going on with you, Christy?”

“I don’t know.” She looked down into the water. Was she sad? Disappointed?

I got a dark feeling in my gut. “You don’t want her to succeed, do you?”

Her head jumped up. “Of course I do.”

“There’s a part of you that’s hoping she doesn’t enroll, isn’t there?”

“She’ll be good for the team. Of course, I want her.”

“What’s your goal, Christy?”

“You know what my goal is.”

“Tell me again.”

“My goal is to win the state championship.” There was no life in her voice.

“Louder. What’s your goal?”

Christy rolled her eyes. “My goal is to win the state championship,” she mumbled.

“I can barely hear you. Come on, one more time. What’s your goal, Christy?”

Her eyes shot up to mine, and she almost yelled, “My goal was to get a swimming scholarship, damn it!”

“But your card says—.”

“I know what my card says, and I want to win. I do. I want to do it in memory of my coach, and I want to do it for the team. But I’d also wanted to do it for me. If we won the championship, as captain and anchor, I’d be set for a swimming scholarship, and I’d be able to afford to go to college.

“Once I got hurt, all that went out the window. College coaches only have so many scholarships to give out, and if they give one to someone who’s suffered a major injury, that’s taking a big risk. Even if a coach was impressed by me, she’d still wonder if I could make a full recovery. You guys helped me see that coming back really is possible. That means my best chance for getting my scholarship is to put every ounce of energy I’ve got into rehabbing myself. If I can make it back this year, I’ve still got a shot. I don’t think I can do that and be Amanda’s coach at the same time.”

I didn’t know what to say. Amanda came out of the locker room. Her hair was pulled back tight behind her, and she wore baggy overalls atop a mismatched flannel shirt.

Christy braced herself, then said, “You swam really well, Amanda. We’d definitely take you on the team if you were eligible. Unfortunately, you don’t actually go to our school. So unless you’re planning on enrolling, there’s not much we can do.”

If I wanted to convince Amanda to enroll, I would have talked to her about the amazing things the team was doing, made her feel like being part of such an incredible team was worth the sacrifice of a couple of months of school. The fact that Christy didn’t even meet Amanda’s eyes as she spoke told me she’d made her decision to put her scholarship ahead of the team.

“Oh, that’s not a problem,” Amanda said. “I’m already eligible.”

“But you don’t go to the school,” Christy said.

“That doesn’t matter. The state’s Equal Access law gives homeschoolers the right to participate in school sports. You don’t think I would have contacted you if I wasn’t eligible, do you?”

Now Christy was stuck. She’d already told Amanda she could join. Her shoulders sagged as she extended a hand and forced a big smile. “Welcome to the team.”