Monthly Archives: December 2016

10. Back at the apartment, I recall sitting at our kitchen table in my boxer shorts and laying out the necessary tools like a field surgeon. We had stopped at a CVS on the way home for supplies—cotton balls, alcohol, … Continue reading →

9. Two days later Pete and I were sitting in Ricky’s kitchen with him and Frankie. The two older men were wedged into the little breakfast nook where the table was located, both of them far too large for the … Continue reading →

8. If I had any doubts or second thoughts about the decision I’d made, via text message to Ricky, in the fall of 2004—that I’d be taking his suggestion to get back on a regimen of chemical restoratives—they were swiftly … Continue reading →

7. A comfortable rhythm developed following those early days at the Bayonne gym, after first meeting Pete and Ricky and the others. Once or twice a week I’d drive out to train with them; the rest of the time I’d … Continue reading →

6. If the image I had of Ricky was first formed in that encounter in the Bayonne High School basement, with him dropping the barbell in a cloud of dust and looking like some shaggy phoenix rising from a powdery … Continue reading →