Hegrabbed his crow bar and started to run towards the crowd. As he ran,he banged the two foot iron bar on the ground. He shouted in hisloudest, deep...st, baddest voice. "Hey," he yelled. "C'monmotherfuckers, who wants a piece of me? Let's go, cowards! Pick onsomeone who's gonna rip your arms right off your fuckin' body. Thatbadass is me, assholes. And I'm bringing it all to you."As he ran, he flashed to games where offensive linemen would try todistract him talking trash. William had. No birds and bees talk, no condom discussion or even joking about girls. Computers? We could talk for hours. Sports? Sure, we could discuss the finer points of Major League Baseball, but nothing even remotely personal had ever been discussed.Yet here was Dad, standing in my doorway and looking like he would rather be diving naked into a swimming pool full of razor blades.“Son, your mother came to me and, well, she told me ... she told me to come and talk to you about your penis.” he stuttered,. More

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