Friendships born on the field of athletic strife are the real gold of competition. Awards become corroded, friends gather no dust.

I decided I wasn't going to come down. I was going to fly. I was going to stay up in the air forever.

The only victory that counts is the one over yourself.

I fought, I fought harder . . . but one cell at a time, panic crept into my body, taking me over.

Every morning, just like in Alabama, I got up with the sun, ate my breakfast even before my mother and sisters and brothers, and went to school, winter, spring, and fall alike to run and jump and bend my body this way and that for Mr. Charles Riley.

A lifetime of training for just ten seconds.

If you don't try to win you might as well hold the Olympics in somebody's back yard. The thrill of competing carries with it the thrill of a gold medal. One wants to win to prove himself the best.