Zelasco was the last person i met. Yielding my urge to goof around I took a deep breathe. Xanax. White people was all I saw the first time I set foot in Petersen hall. Versus us, was the football team full of black players. Undone, I knew I was the only black person on my wrestling team. The only time there was another black person on my wrestling team, was when me and my brother wrestled. So this time wouldn’t be any different, however I felt something in the air. Right as i thought i was all alone. Quiet little loner who’d only dream of a friend who knew my struggle. ” Pow” he broke through my door with a pair of Jordan’s on. On top of his head rested a Snapback with the Chicago Bulls plastered on it. “Only God can judge me (Tupac).” Now Tupac was playing in the background as though his angel had just resurrected him from the dead. Mountain tops rang their silver bells, while the valleys deep voice sang Amazing Grace. L.A. street gangs may a peace treaty. KKK members gather around in a circle to sing Kumbaya as though Hitler returned to tell them he actually doesn’t mine Jews. Just as I thought that I wouldn’t have someone to receive my black brotherly love (pause). Inching closer. ” Hey”, he said. “Great” I responded with so much excitement I just told how I felt right off the bat. “Fuck Yeah!” we screamed collectively as though we knew what each other was thinking. Each of us knew how exciting it was to have someone like yourself to have with you now. Doubts about survival went right out the door. Connections, connected. Brothers created. As the days went by though we hated each other, Goddammit.