The boy’s name was Dan Kendra. And he was the stuff of legend.
His right arm was so mighty that all who beheld it sought comparisons to implements of war
He could run 40 yards in 4.5 seconds. He could bench press almost 400 pounds. He could leap so high he’d been penalized for stepping on the helmet of an upright defender. His right arm was so mighty that all who beheld it sought comparisons to implements of war (gun; pistol; rifle; rocket; Howitzer) and so accurate that he’d begun to erase the schoolboy records of the Pennsylvania legends who had come before. He once scored eight touchdowns in a game, four running and four passing. He wasn’t perfect; like any QB, he threw the occasional interception. But the first one he ever threw in a high school game (Kendra was actually an eighth-grader, playing up a level) was swiftly followed by him making a clean tackle so hard it broke the other kid’s arm in three places.
He read muscle magazines and fitness magazines and taught himself the most challenging exercises and the best stretching routines and became fascinated with nutrition and refused to eat fast food. He’d come to team pizza parties carrying fresh fruit and a turkey sandwich. Nobody made him do any of this.