Mr. Rayner was the kind of person you’d see in the halls every once in a while, toting a big black barrel and a dirty old mop. The cool kids made fun of him because his sweatsuit was of the last decade and he walked all slouchy and awkward. They’d say, “ Oh no! Here comes Mr. Rayner! ‘Y’all better pick up dat trash!’” And then they’d laugh at him in the same way they laughed at me. Especially Jack. He was the worst of them all. His laugh sounded like tin reacting with HCl; it sparked and fizzed. He hadn’t always been like that. He used to laugh with me, not at me and other people. But that had all dissolved on the first day of middle school when Jack failed to save me a seat at the lunch table. He had a new group it seemed - one that did not want intrusion by the likes of me. Their black shades and sports jackets practically demanded that I sit somewhere else. And I did, because I forced myself to admit what I already knew was happening: Jack was embarrassed to be my friend.
 
         Well, I liked Mr. Rayner. He was cool. He didn’t seem to like kids very much, but I think I can understand. He took to residing in the shadows of the janitor’s closet. It was a bare room only filled by one office chair, a heap of cleaning supplies, and three framed pictures. The first was a photo of Mr.Rayner with an old lady. The second was a signed basketball poster. The third was an acceptance letter from MIT, which even if he took night classes now, would end up costing  him $60,000. Anyways, I knew what his closet looked like because Jack threw my lunch in there once. Every so often Mr. Rayner would shoot hoops in the gym. After shooting a hundred or so he’d sweep the gym floor. He never once missed a basket. If I  was ‘cool’, maybe I wouldn’t be able to tell that Mr.Rayner had never meant to be stuck as a fifty- year- old middle-school janitor.

        It was the winter of the seventh grade, and things were going pretty good in my life. I had high grades, my family had adopted a dog, and I even got to go to the science fair. Things were actually looking up for me. Jack and the bullies had even left me alone for a bit while they tormented more interesting victims. As far as I could tell, Jack was still the ringleader, but I didn’t investigate any closer. I didn’t want to. I finally got to go about my day without Jack  knocking my books out of my hands, so why invite him to start again? By the time basketball tryouts were posted, I even considered signing up. There was a meeting that night, and I decided I’d go. My dad was proud to see me interested in a sport for a change; and after I told him I was interested, there was no going back. We pulled up in front of the school just as the first star appeared in the evening sky.
        " Yes," he said, " I need them by tomorrow. No later. And if you think that-"
      "  Dad, could you unlock the car door please?"
      " Quiet! I'm on a conference call." He put the car in park just outside the main entrance . 
      " Dad I'll be late." I murmured, trapped in the backseat just outside the school.
       " -and tell Jones that I need those plans. He's been slacking lately and I don't..." He went on and on until I climbed into the front seat and let myself out.
       " bye dad." I could still hear him rambling on in the car behind me. He would be late to pick me up. I just knew. Mom would be cooking dinner in the kitchen, and she would call down to Dad in his office . By the time he finished the latest conference call, e-mail, whatever - he would already be running on a half an hour late. It was just what always happened.

         The school was relatively empty as I made my way down to the gym. The halls were empty and still. The only thing that moved was Mr. Rayner walking the mop up and down the floors. He whistled and a small radio blasted from the janitor's closet. He didn't even notice me pass in his concentration of mopping, listening, and whistling. Just before the gym the music faded away.  Many voices could be heard from the inside, telling me that the coach hadn't started talking yet. Maybe it was my lucky day. As I neared the door, I heard two voices talking just around the corner to the gym. I stopped, not intending to listen in, simply not wanting to intrude. But my curiosity, as always, got the best of me.

           "... Have to make this team..." The deep voice struggled to keep quiet.
           " ... Yes dad..." Other than its tone, the other voice sounded familiar. I walked closer and they became clearer. " But why basketball? I don't even  like it! Besides, I can't play."
           " How could  you? I am giving you the opportunity to continue a legacy! I was nationally known for basketball when I was in High School. The star player for Duke University! I brought my team to the Final Four. You have a chance to make me proud. A chance to begin a great career in the sport. You just need some training, that’s all."
The hall was silent for a moment. Then there was a soft whisper.
           " Yes dad."
           " I already hired the coach to practice with you everyday."
           " Dad! Why can't you practice with me? And hiring the coach? That's like cheating -"
           " It's only cheating if you get caught Jack."
   
          Once I was sure they had left, I walked into the gym quickly and grabbed the only seat available on the bleachers. The gym was packed with kids from all three grades. My school was huge, and we liked basketball. We also only had money to pay one coach.
          " You’re trying out for basketball?" sneered a voice next to me. Jack. How could I be so dumb as to sit next to him?  " You’re too short to play basketball Nicky."
          " It's just Nick now Jack," I said, " not Nicky." It might have sounded brave if it didn’t come out really quiet and squeaky.
            " Okay. Whatever you say Nicky." The coach had started talking about the tryouts, but I couldn't bring myself to pay attention.  " Besides, you could never beat me at basketball. You could never beat me at anything Nicky. Even when we were kids." He had come so far from being my best friend that I could not even picture us together as kids anymore ."And you know, my dad was nationally famous in basketball. He's going to train me to be even better than I am now. And, once again, you will lose hugely to me."

   The meeting was fairly brief, but it lasted a horribly long time for me. Walking the halls waiting for dad, I became very frustrated with myself. “ Why can’t I just stand up for myself?” I yelled to the empty hallway, “ For once in my life, why can’t I just tell him to stop?” The hallway didn’t have a snarky answer like Jack, but it didn’t give me any other answer to work with. Until it did.

   “cause you’re scared,” said a voice from the janitor’s closet, “ Scared they’d beat you up. Scared they’d bother you. Scared they’d embarrass you. Scared to stop ‘em because you know, in the end, that they’d gladly take something from you.”  Mr.Rayner shuffled out of the closet with a jingle of keys, “ Or that’s how it was with my bully...” I was a little startled by his sudden appearance, but anything was better than Jack or some other bully.
          “ Yeah,” I said, “that’s actually exactly it.”
          “ Tryin’ out for the basketball team?” he asked.
          “ Trying.” I said.
          “ You really wanna play basketball?” He fumbled around with the keys and locked up the closet to leave for the night.
          “ Yeah.”
          “ Now I don’t know what bully you’re talkin’ about, but I’ll help you beat him.”  We began to walk together towards the parking lot.
          “Why would he help me?” I thought, “ people with jobs were supposed to be super busy. I thought they never had the time to stop and help anyone; much less me. I looked at the man standing next to me. “He didn’t even know me, and yet he had offered to help solve my biggest problem?”
          “ Wow, thanks Mr.Rayner. But, I mean, like, why?” He stopped, and mumbled,
           “ Because I didn’t beat mine. I was too scared.”

         And so it started a routine. For the next two weeks until tryouts, Mr. Rayner and I would train in the gym after school. He showed me all the tricks. All the ways to get a basket. All the ways you could dodge an opponent. All the ways to catch the rebounds, dribble around people, outsmart the competitors, and win the game. The man was a basketball genius. I could not believe he never even tried out. He would have made it - hands down - no matter who he was up against. Each day we trained I got better and better. I began to make more baskets and move my feet to where I needed to be without so much as a thought. I was even shooting hoops in my driveway now for extra practice. I never let dad catch me doing it though, for fear of him wondering how I got so much better. My trainings after school with Mr. Rayner were easy to keep a secret though, as dad never so much as glanced up from his cell phone.

        I also learned a lot of things from Mr. Rayner that weren’t basketball-related. We were alike in lots of ways. For one thing, we both loved science. He told me about his acceptance into MIT - something I had been wondering about but never dared to ask. He had worked multiple jobs during High School to raise the money to go. His family was too poor to pay for any of it, but he told me that he had been, “ up for the challenge of working for his dream.” Yet by the time he was finally ready to send in the first payments, his father’s health sharply declined. The money had to be used for medical bills instead.

        Mr. Rayner also, like me, had a tough time in middle school. He said it was “ the worst of times for us nerd people.” He would laugh as he’d tell these stories, but it was obvious that he was struggling to make light of them. He too was bullied; by a kid everyone called “Big Johnnie.” The kid actually sounded a lot like Jack- with the short, rude comments and the constant I’ll-beat-you-up attitude. This was the same kid who kept Mr. Rayner from joining the basketball team. Mr. Rayner said that he wasn’t all that scared of Big Johnnie beating him up, but rather scared of upsetting his mother when he came home with a black-eye.

      The whole day before tryouts I was fidgety in class. I just couldn’t sit still. What if I don’t make the team? What if I let Mr. Rayner down? What about Jack? A million possible ways I could fail grew themselves in my mind all day; each one worsening until the end of last block. That was when I began to walk down to the locker room. I pushed against the flow of people as I made my way down, hurrying from the opposite side of the building. By the time I got there, many of the boys were already getting changed or ready to go. They quickly filed out the doors as I laced up my shoes. That was when Jack came into the room. He silently passed me without so much as word,  instead briskly walking to a storage locker to grab his sneakers. For the last two and a half years, Jack had never passed me without saying something insulting, much less nothing at all. He sat down next to me and put on his shoes. A tear still lingered on his cheek. He quickly brushed it away.
      “ Don’t ask.” he said.
      “ I didn’t” I said.
      “ Don’t tell anyone.”
      “ I won’t.” And that was all we said before going out to meet coach in the gym.

       We warmed up with a few dribbles across the court before we were dismissed for a water break. I went over to Mr.Rayner who was watching from the bleachers. Quickly scanning the rest of the crowd, I recognized lots of parents there. Jack’s father hadn’t even stopped yelling out critiques. He was that loud, sidelines parent that everybody hated but was too scared to approach. I also confirmed what I already knew - Dad wasn’t there.
          “ Now coach will  move on to the real stuff,” Mr. Rayner said, “ the drilling, the eliminations, and finally the knockout game. It’s weirdly organized, I know, but we practiced all this stuff.”
         I had to make it to that final game of knockout. The remaining twelve from that game would make the team. I looked back at thirty odd kids drinking water bottles on the sidelines. Mr.Rayner seemed to sense my nerves. “ It’s okay, kid.” he said, “ You got this.” I gave him a quick high-five and returned to the group.

           We played some one on one games for a while. I was doing fairly well and moved up quickly. Just shooting some baskets was starting to calm my nerves a bit. This lasted me all the way up until the coach announced the names for knockout. We were down to the last 15, and I was one of them. Granted, only three kids would get cut from the final group, but I could very well be one of those kids. As we all lined up in front of one basket, I kept trying to convince myself that I was ready to make the shot that really counted. Ready to prove that I could make this team. I made the first  two shots easily. By that time, two kids were already out, and the line kept on rotating. I was anxious with one more person to go, but I remained calm. I had trained for this. I was ready for this. The kid in front of me aimed for the basket and shot. It rolled around the rim and fell to the floor- slamming on the ground and bouncing behind the hoop. It had been Jack. He had missed that basket. I knew what I had to do.  I shot the ball and it sailed into the net before Jack even had time to get his. I turned to see Mr. Rayner giving me the two thumbs up. The coach began to write down the remaining players in a notebook. Then I saw Jack. He looked scared. Scared like the time we were camping and read that monster book. His face drained white and he appeared to be looking around for the creature from the black lagoon. His gaze finally found his father in the stands.

             Jack’s father  was wild with fury, screaming at the coach and Jack both. “ How could my son, my son, not make the basketball team! All because of what- some lucky shot?” The other parents made moves to leave, but lingered just to hear the drama. No one spoke; simply listened. Jack’s father had always scared me. I think he just never liked me. He got along well with my father though. I stayed quiet hoping that the coach would say something, but the coach looked scared himself. It was Mr. Rayner that was the first to speak. 
        He rose from his seat on the bleachers. “ That was a fair shot,” he said.
       “ A fair shot! Well sure, If you count cheating as a fair shot! I saw, right there, he wasn’t even on the line-”
      “ Dad, can we just go home?” Jack said weakly. His father didn’t even acknowledge him.
       “ Nick didn’t cheat, John,” said Mr. Rayner, “he was on the line.” Jack’s father really looked at Mr. Rayner for the first time. Recognition crossed his face.
        “ Oh and you’re the ref now Ed,” he laughed, “ Pick that up as a second job to picking up trash?” Mr. Rayner actually didn’t seem to be bothered. He just shrugged.
        “ Listen, all I’m sayin’ is, it was a fair shot. Nick got on the team fair and square.”
        “ No,” John said, “ I saw him and he wasn’t on the line. I wouldn't expect you to notice this because you never played.”
        “ He was on the line.” Mr. Rayner said confidently. I was silently cheering him on. I would have been done the second I saw the bully coming. John radiated anger.
        “ He was not.” There was no desperation in his voice. He was fully confident he would win this one. “ Jack,” he said, “ You saw. He wasn’t on the line was he?”
Jack looked at me. And then at his father. And back and forth. Considering something he knew he shouldn't do but maybe could do. “ Well…” he said softly. His father urged him on.
        “ Well? Was he on the line or not on the line?” Jack looked away from his father; down at his shoes. He mumbled barely audible words.
        “He was on the line.” You could almost see the anger boiling over in his father’s eyes.
        “ What!?” Jack’s father shouted. Jack repeated his response, but louder and more defiant.
        “ Listen dad! I’ve never wanted to play basketball. Ever. I hate it. And I hate you for forcing me to do it.”
        “ I give you so much, Jack!” his father yelled, “ and this is how you thank me!?” He turned back to Mr. Rayner.  “ And you? Coming here to show me up like some big underdog hero? I still have so much more than you will ever have Ed. My house is the biggest on the street. I went to a nice college and run my own company. I’ve travelled to places in the world that you will never see. And I can do all this because I have more money that you can count!”
         Mr. Rayner just frowned. “John, you may think you have a lot, but I think that I have more than you.”
         John laughed hysterically. “ So you're saying that if I were to bet you a thousand  right now, you could pay it back? You got that kinda money lyin’ around Ed?”
        “ No,” Mr. Rayner smiled, “But you do.”
         “What?”
         “Let’s bet. Like you said. But let’s make it for $60,000. We can play knockout.”
           John looked dumbfounded.
          “ You said you were the best at basketball right? And I didn’t even play. So it will be easy money for you.”
         And it was money that Jack’s father just couldn’t resist. He valued it above all else.
“ Okay.” said eventually, “ deal.” They shook hands and walked towards the hoop. Jack and I looked at each other.  He seemed proud of himself for standing up to his father. I guess he had to stand up to his own bully. Then he glanced at the fancy watch at his wrist and took a deep breath.
“ I have to go,” he said, looking back at his father nervously.
        “ Why?”
        “Play practice.”
       “What should I tell your dad?”
        Jack thought about this for a moment. “The truth,” he said, “ but thanks. Can we be friends again?”
      “Yeah.” I said, “ I never stopped being your friend.” He smiled.
       Jack left just as the ball sailed into the hoop.

         Five years later and I was still terrified of public speaking,.  My  hands were shaking against my robe. It was the perfect spring day. Smelling of blooming flowers and a new beginning; it seemed the weather knew what was going on.
         “ You ready for this man?” I  heard Jack ask behind me.
         “ Yeah. Just can’t believe it’s finally over.”
         “ You can say that again.” he said, “I never thought I’d make it through High School.”
         “Me neither.”
          Jack punched lightly on my arm in response. “ Shut up dude.”
          From the football field came a fanfare of instruments breaking through the spring air. I began to walk forward - clutching  the paper tighter in my hand. It was written in pencil, scribbled out and erased many times over. I wondered still if the words I chose were the right ones.

          In moments, I found myself  up at the podium with eyes everywhere. I took a few deep breaths and looked at the paper before me. I quickly read the first line to myself. I would like to thank everyone who has helped me get here. You have all done so much. Something just wasn’t right about it. I hadn’t noticed it before, but looking at all these people it sounded so small. So weak. I  folded the paper back up and let it fall to the ground.
“Um… hi.” I said. The crowd laughed.  And I smiled. “ There are so many people that have helped me get here today. My teachers, my friends, my classmates. But today I only have time to talk about a few of them.” I looked out into the crowd and saw everyone that I had ever known. The people who used to know me in Elementary School. The kids who used to bully me in Middle School. The students that were always just a little bit better than me in High School. And it didn’t matter anymore. I mean, yeah, they made me part of who I was; but life was just beginning. “ So in the time that I have,” I said, my voice growing more confident, “ I’d like to share with you a few of the influential people in my life.”

         I scanned the crowd until I found Mom and Dad sitting near the front row. Mom was dressed in a nice shirt and Dad had his work suit on. “ Mom, Dad,” I said, “ You were always there for me. If I ever needed something, I could count on you guys. Mom, you always told me to keep going. Even when I was scared or worried, you made sure that I stuck it out until the end. Thank you, because without you, I would not be here today.” I looked at Dad. I liked to say that he’d gotten better than he was in Middle School, but he was still as busy as ever. “ Dad,” I said, “ I know that at times you’re busy with work. But when you find time to come out to my basketball games, I play so much better knowing that you are there to support me. I know we disagree about times, but I really, really love you Dad.”  There was some “ awws” by the moms in the crowd. I think I saw Dad smile.

             “ And to my best friend, Jack,” I said, “ I know we’ve had some rough times.” Jack smiled at me from the rows of students. He had the National Honors Society emblem on his robe, and his girlfriend, Emily, sat beside him.  “ But I think that it has made our friendship even stronger. And I’m really proud of you. I know that over the past years, life hasn’t been so easy for you. I know you’ve been juggling a lot of things, but you’ve made the most of it.” And I meant it, because Jack had really been struggling in High School. Ever since his parents got divorced, he’d been balancing emotions with school - and somehow managed to get by with excellent grades. “ Our time together has taught me so much about being the best friend you can be.” My eyes then fell on the man in the front row. He sat up straight and confident - granting, with a couple more wrinkles now then before. He was still pretty fit from playing basketball every Sunday. And his smile was the biggest I had ever seen it.

       “ And as for Mr. Rayner. I know not many people knew him in Middle School when he was just our janitor. But I’m so glad that NASA gave him a break to come here today.” His smile could of lit up the world. “ I want to tell you who he is, because he totally deserves it, and because he changed my life.” I began, “Mr. Rayner is the kind of person who…”