Round 2

This afternoon, as I got back to my apartment from class, I was debating with myself whether or not I should go to work. Having been a bit under the weather as of late I was inclined to stay home and take a nap. However, with March on the near horizon and realizing the need to pay my rent before management started breathing down my neck, I resigned myself to the proposition of returning to the BYU grounds to once again to pay my daily homage to Mother Earth.
As I arrived at the shed, I could see from the look in Edwin's eye that today would be yet another day filled with menial tasks worthy of perhaps half an hour of my time, but which I would be asked to stretch out to fill two hours. But such is life and I am well capable of doing so.
The work which I was asked to do today was a bit of a heterogeneous mixture of odd jobs. I was asked to go to the entrance of the Smith Fieldhouse to pick up a cement column that had fallen down, to clean out gutters and drains for a bit, and, if there was time left over, which there was, I was to, once again, retrieve the rubbish left behind by careless students in their hurry to class.
I considered the pillar job to be that which would require the most of my blatant brawn and highly toned figure. Upon realizing that there would be quite a large crowd to witness this feat of strength that I was about to perform, I decided to do it first.
As I approached the cement pillar in question, I realized what I was up against. And quite frankly, I was dismayed. Though proud of my burly self, I am well aware of my own limits and this pillar seemed to be well outside of them. Standing nearly four feet tall (when erect) and a good 18 inches square at the base, this concrete monster defied me. It must have weighed 200-250 lbs easy. I could see it leering at me with its yellow teeth showing through a crooked smile. It was as if it was daring me to try and lift it; daring me to make a fool of myself in front of the passers by.
Well I'm not one to back down to a challenge like that, so I squatted down, somehow managed to mash my gloved fingers underneath its broad side and prepared myself to lift. As I did so I heard a voice behind me say, "You'll have to be a lot younger and stronger to be able to lift that up." Thirsting to prove the cynical observer wrong I exploded with my legs and held on desperately with my hands to lift this concrete behemoth. I raised to nearly a 45 degree angle with the ground when my grip gave out and the beast went crashing triumphantly to the ground. As it did I glanced around at the vocal bystander from a moment ago and was shocked by what, or rather who, I saw.
It was none other than the man who made Bronco Mendenhall's job one worthy of notoriety and respect. That's right, the one and only Lavell Edwards.
As I tried not to stare, and wondered wildly to myself what I should do now, he smiled and said, "That was better than I expected from a wiry kid like yourself." To which I could only reply, "Thanks coach." He smiled yet again, climbed into his Toyota 4Runner and drove away.
As I stood there in a stunned silence, a moving guy who had witnessed the whole scene, came up to me and offered to help me pick up the pillar. Distractedly I assented and we lifted the pillar back up to its original position. As I thanked the young man, I couldn't help but to reflect back on what I had just experienced. I had yet again gained approval in the eyes of one of my heroes. This would truly be a day remembered.