He pushed his way through the crowd of beautifully dressed guests until he reached them. He bent to kiss Winnie’s cheek. “Thanks for supporting this fund-raiser, Winnie,” he said. He shook Mikhail’s hand. Then he reached for Lin Su to give her what could best be described as a social hug. He kissed her on the cheek because she turned her face. “I’m glad you’re here. Thanks for coming.” He shook Charlie’s hand and complimented him on the haircut, making the kid grin. “I saw your place cards on a table up front.” He looked around. “I don’t see Grace and Troy.”

“Well, they are indisposed by early labor,” Winnie said. “We had to leave them home. I wanted to stay with Grace but she said she might still be home through the night. They’re waiting for the contractions to get stronger and closer.”

“So you will understand if we take our leave during your speech,” Mikhail said.

“Absolutely!” Blake said. “That’s wonderful news! You’ll be a grandmother before Christmas!”

“If I’m not, Grace will be very cranky,” Winnie said. “I believe you’re in demand, Mr. Smiley.”

He looked over his shoulder to see that cocktail-toting admirers were lining up behind him, waiting for his conversation to be over so they could meet him.

“Find your table, Winnie. Relax. I think the program will be starting in just fifteen minutes or so.”

Then he turned to say hello to other attendees.

As was typical of such evenings, all the salutations and presentations seemed to go on for a very long time. Blake sat at a table right next to Winnie’s but all he could really see of Lin Su was her profile. Charlie was one of very few guests under the age of twenty-one and the majority were over forty. Blake couldn’t help but notice that a lot of the charity’s movers and shakers approached Winnie at her table, introduced themselves and shook her hand. He should have known—Winnie was undoubtedly a well-known donor.

Meals were beginning to be served, decanters of wine were placed on tables and the program began. One by one people stood at the microphone to thank people, introduce hard-working volunteers, say a few words about the positive growth of the organization, give statistics about the number of kids served, special projects completed and future plans for the Neighborhood Club.

Finally, with dinner nearly finished, the recipients of the awards were introduced and Blake stepped up to the stage to hand the plaques to them and shake their hands.

He was introduced to the sound of enthusiastic applause.

“I’m Blake Smiley and I’m a professional athlete and businessman. On your programs tonight you’ll see this organization’s mission statement. We endeavor to meet the needs of kids from the ages of seven to seventeen who need a place of refuge, encouragement, guidance and companionship. Because of this mission, most Neighborhood Clubs are erected in the poorest neighborhoods. And proceeds from tonight’s fund-raiser will, in part, fund the beginning of an internship that will bring students of sociology, psychology and education at the college level to the organization to reduce the ratio of kids to counselors to give better results, so get out your wallets. This is important.

“There were no such clubs or gathering places when I was a kid or where I was a kid. In fact, my presence here tonight is a miracle of great proportions, but it’s the kind of miracle I like to talk about because I guess you could say I relate to kids who don’t have advantages. A friend of mine asked me if I liked to talk to people about survival of the fittest and I said no. No, I like to talk about survival of the weakest. I was the weakest. I fought rats for food, shared bonfires with transients to stay warm and ate at soup kitchens. And I learned to run.

“I wasn’t the only kid who struggled with life. It’s a sad but true fact that lots of kids have serious challenges that might make them stronger, but how will they use that strength in the end? What end? When you live in fear, you compensate, find a place where you can be less afraid, and sometimes that place isn’t a good place. When you’re fourteen, you don’t know that what you need is safety, pride and potential. And even if you knew, would you know where to look?

“When I was fourteen, placed in a foster home and forced to attend school, there was a teacher and coach who took one look at me and figured me out. I thought he was an old coot, but it turned out he was thirty-two at the time. He said, ‘Where you from, kid?’ And I looked him in the eye and said, ‘Water Street and Power.’ And he grinned at me and said, ‘I know that block. I came from right near there. We come outta that block mean as snakes. So, what does a kid like you do for fun?’ I think I snarled something like, ‘I run for my supper, old man.’ And he answered, ‘That so?’ Then he took me to the track where the track-and-field team were warming up and he said, ‘Let’s get a time, see what you got.’ So I ran for him. He clicked off his stopwatch and said, ‘Don’t ever lie to me again, boy.’ I was so confused. I hadn’t lied about my neighborhood. I’d pitched it right in his face so he’d back off and leave me alone. Instead, he said, ‘If you came from that street you’d be able to run or you’d look a lot worse than you do. So let’s see where you’re really from because you look soft to me.’

“So I ran for him, but this time I ran like my life depended on it, like I’d done before, refusing to be afraid of anything, refusing to care about anyone or anything because deep down inside I knew I wasn’t good enough for anything but getting away and trying to stay alive. When I was running from guys who wanted to turn me upside down and shake me till a quarter fell out and then kick me for good measure, I knew how to run. Pretty soon they didn’t even bother to chase me because I was too fast for them. So I ran for him. And he clicked off the stopwatch and said, ‘That’s what I’m talking about.’

“That coach or a variation on that coach hangs out at every Neighborhood Club in this county and he’s watching for the kid who needs help with homework or learns to open up a little bit while he’s shooting pool with counselors and volunteers. He’s looking for that kid, like me, who is scared to death, mad as bloody hell, needs to learn some boundaries and has to figure out a better end to his story. He might find it making music or playing team sports or giving back, like going with a group to a pediatrics ward or nursing home. We look at it as just a little molding and reshaping, something that can turn a badass like me into a competitor. You think winner? Oh, you’d be absolutely right, but not the kind of winning you imagine, not the kind that brings gold medals. It’s the kind of winning where you finally trade the fear and start working to overcome that thing you’re most afraid of. It can be anything. It’s not always the stuff that drove someone like me forward. You don’t have to live with rats or run from gangbangers to have something to overcome. It could be poverty. It could be loneliness, abuse, a health problem, a struggle with schoolwork. It could even be a weight problem. We all bring baggage with us and it doesn’t have a monetary value—it’s the weight on our hearts and minds that holds us back.