Booker T: From Prison to Promise: Life Before the Squared Circle by Booker T Huffman, Andrew William Wright
Authors: Booker T Huffman, Andrew William Wright
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was great. The extra motivation helped us both make great gains in the gym.
I had grown over the last year or so, reaching around six foot one, and now it seemed my body was reaching a pinnacle. I instinctively knew that somehow all this training was going to be a ticket out of this common life and into something special. It was just a matter of time and self-discovery.
I began training with one of Lash’s best friends Darryl Bates. Much like Lash, he was an inspiration. He worked for the local fire department and had this amazing physique, with biceps that just burst out of his sleeves and screamed strength. He also had a really hot girlfriend and a new car. Darryl seemed to have everyone’s respect for all the right reasons. Man, to me, it just did not get any better than that. What more could a person want?
While Lash was the one who first took me to the gym, Darryl taught me how to train at another level. He showed me all his techniques and how to use different machines to develop a routine that would optimize every workout. He was like another big brother.
I was so completely happy to have these positively charged people around me. I had a new brotherhood, a family that protected me and had my best interests at heart. My self-confidence skyrocketed, and I took pride in the hard work I was putting in at the gym. I even made sure my Wendy’s shirt was pressed so I could roll up the sleeves and show off my developing biceps. Although it might have been somewhat ridiculous to display my fledgling muscles, it sure seemed to work. Girls everywhere were taking notice.
One in particular also lived in Willow Creek Apartments. Her name was Michelle, and we started seeing each other on a regular basis. Things progressed so quickly between us that she asked me to move in with her. It was a big prospect for a young guy like me, especially considering the fact that Michelle was white and came from an affluent family.
It was an interesting experience, to say the least, the day she decided to take me to meet her parents at their home, which looked more like the White House, in the upper-class Houston suburb of Clear Lake.
“Mom, Daddy, I want you to meet Booker,” she said with a smile. “We’ve been dating for a little while now.”
“Oh, so nice to meet you, Booker,” her father said as he casually glanced at Michelle and then his wife.
Sure, her parents were nice enough, so cordial and polite, but I could sense the cardiac arrest erupting in both of their chests.
Looking back now, I know Michelle was parading me around to shove the king daddy of all rebellion in her parents’ faces. At the time, though, I was just happy to be there. All smiles, I put my best foot forward and tried to be a gentleman.
I have to admit there was something elitist about dating Michelle. I had this rich white girl as arm candy, and a touch of what I’ll call trophy syndrome came over me. If all that sounds sort of snobbish, that’s probably because it was. Hey, life is life, and I was trying to elevate myself from the deflated existence I’d experienced for way too long. If going out with a white chick made me feel better about myself, a white chick it was gonna be. It sure beat the insufferable drudgery I had been crawling through just months before.
With all that in mind, it was an easy decision to move in with her at Willow Creek. I’m not going to say I was in love with her, but we were definitely in a serious relationship. We were committed to each other and did everything together, like getting ice cream or going to the movies, and it felt good. It felt right.
Up until then, I had never experienced a relationship with a girl at that level. We shared everything, listened to each other’s problems, and were completely there for one another. I was really enjoying the intimacy and trust Michelle and I had.
However, by no means were we free of the usual drawbacks of a relationship. We had our rocky moments, as every couple
I had grown over the last year or so, reaching around six foot one, and now it seemed my body was reaching a pinnacle. I instinctively knew that somehow all this training was going to be a ticket out of this common life and into something special. It was just a matter of time and self-discovery.
I began training with one of Lash’s best friends Darryl Bates. Much like Lash, he was an inspiration. He worked for the local fire department and had this amazing physique, with biceps that just burst out of his sleeves and screamed strength. He also had a really hot girlfriend and a new car. Darryl seemed to have everyone’s respect for all the right reasons. Man, to me, it just did not get any better than that. What more could a person want?
While Lash was the one who first took me to the gym, Darryl taught me how to train at another level. He showed me all his techniques and how to use different machines to develop a routine that would optimize every workout. He was like another big brother.
I was so completely happy to have these positively charged people around me. I had a new brotherhood, a family that protected me and had my best interests at heart. My self-confidence skyrocketed, and I took pride in the hard work I was putting in at the gym. I even made sure my Wendy’s shirt was pressed so I could roll up the sleeves and show off my developing biceps. Although it might have been somewhat ridiculous to display my fledgling muscles, it sure seemed to work. Girls everywhere were taking notice.
One in particular also lived in Willow Creek Apartments. Her name was Michelle, and we started seeing each other on a regular basis. Things progressed so quickly between us that she asked me to move in with her. It was a big prospect for a young guy like me, especially considering the fact that Michelle was white and came from an affluent family.
It was an interesting experience, to say the least, the day she decided to take me to meet her parents at their home, which looked more like the White House, in the upper-class Houston suburb of Clear Lake.
“Mom, Daddy, I want you to meet Booker,” she said with a smile. “We’ve been dating for a little while now.”
“Oh, so nice to meet you, Booker,” her father said as he casually glanced at Michelle and then his wife.
Sure, her parents were nice enough, so cordial and polite, but I could sense the cardiac arrest erupting in both of their chests.
Looking back now, I know Michelle was parading me around to shove the king daddy of all rebellion in her parents’ faces. At the time, though, I was just happy to be there. All smiles, I put my best foot forward and tried to be a gentleman.
I have to admit there was something elitist about dating Michelle. I had this rich white girl as arm candy, and a touch of what I’ll call trophy syndrome came over me. If all that sounds sort of snobbish, that’s probably because it was. Hey, life is life, and I was trying to elevate myself from the deflated existence I’d experienced for way too long. If going out with a white chick made me feel better about myself, a white chick it was gonna be. It sure beat the insufferable drudgery I had been crawling through just months before.
With all that in mind, it was an easy decision to move in with her at Willow Creek. I’m not going to say I was in love with her, but we were definitely in a serious relationship. We were committed to each other and did everything together, like getting ice cream or going to the movies, and it felt good. It felt right.
Up until then, I had never experienced a relationship with a girl at that level. We shared everything, listened to each other’s problems, and were completely there for one another. I was really enjoying the intimacy and trust Michelle and I had.
However, by no means were we free of the usual drawbacks of a relationship. We had our rocky moments, as every couple
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