<i>A leader?</i>Those words repeated over and over in his head, he had no time for that, or more appropriately no will for it. It was one thing to be a leader on the field with a team he had a repour with, it was quite another to be a leader in the community, especially after all this time. He remembered her suggestion from earlier, coaching youth football, and Mark immediately shook his head no.<br/><br/>"What? Go be a youth football coach? Work with underprivileged youth? What is this Bad News Bears? The Mighty Ducks? Hoosiers? or any other movie about a dead-beat adult who coaches a bunch of loser kids into being winners and champions? that ain't how the world works. Look if you got different ideas I might be willing to listen, but kids ain't my style, I guarantee you that would end up worse than before."<br/><br/>He wasn't angry, he didn't yell, much like she had done he kept his voice even keeled, which was proving hard due to the sheer amount of emotion that was running through him, not to mention the driving thirst for one of his trusty brews. Still he was adamant against her trying to make him into something he had no desire for in any capacity. "How about we go get that beer you promised me, and you can think of something else if you really want to make me into a project of some kind for you story." Mark walked toward her, it was slow and methodical, his leg throbbed, the muscles atrophied from lack of use. Any physical therapy he had done had all but been erased, but a few months of it would eliminate the need for a cane, he just didn't see things that way nor have the drive to endure the suffering.