Brock daydreamed as they headed east, remembering his youth from the first time around. When he was a freshman in high school, he decided he would have to do something if he wanted to get into one of the top schools. His father had been dead for three years and his mother would never be able to afford to send him where he wanted to go. He was a brilliant student, the best in his little high school, but he knew on a national level, that there were many better than him, too many for him to hope for an academic scholarship. He wasn't big enough for football or basketball, the two big athletic scholarship hopes. He needed something more obscure, something that wouldn't drown his hopes by sheer numbers of competitors. He got on the Princeton website, his first choice of college, and looked for something, anything to give him hope. Then he saw it, fencing! How many people actually still used swords, how much competition could he possibly have? …show more content…
His high school did not offer fencing in their curriculum, so he used computer simulations to learn the basics and when he had them down pat, he went to a fencing club in a neighboring town to inquire about lessons. When he walked in a heavyset older man eyed him skeptically.
“What can I do for you Junior?”
“I'm here to learn.”
“Learn? What exactly do you hope to learn here boy?”
“I hope to learn the art of fencing. Mister...?
The man grinned and said, “Just call me Dodger. What's your name Junior.”
“My name's Brock Russell, sir.”
“Let me see your sword