" Learning to interpret the constant string of lies and excuses fed to you from kids terrified of failure but careening towards it anyway was boot camp for behavioral interpretation. My guys didn't know who the hell they were but they were angry, addled and belligerent, so half the time I was screaming at them and the rest of the time I was holding their trembling little hands. It was a great job and I was a great coach, but that's the past and dinner with the Dyars was the present—and sussing out the current crowd was no worse than taming a team on the bus home so amped on testosterone they often tried to kill their best friends. "

― Kendric Neal , To the Metal (A Paris of the South Mystery, #1)