"Four years from now, I'll be in Rio."
"What?" says the other. "Harvey...Harvey...Harvey. You? In Rio." He laughs, and looks over. "You're going to join the Army, and see the world, right? Do we have bases in Brazil?"
"No, Olympics Gymnastic Team." He twists his combination lock.
"You?" says the other. "You're crazy. Olympic Team?"
"Guys get Gold, why not me?" He snaps open the lock. "Look, Conway, I'm aware of dedication. You wait, I'll be a Star."
"An Olympic Star, huh? Olympic Team not good enough? You want to be a Star?"
"I can do it. Why not me?"
"Harvey, Star status takes a Gold Medal, minimum. Even a team Gold is almost impossible. Your good, but Olympics?"
"I have devised a four year schedule of intense workouts, so I will peak at the precise moment."
"Gotta get on camera as much as you can to be a Star," says Lyle, another gymnast sitting near. "People have to know who you are. It's a 24/7 commitment, Harvey. Think you can do it."
"Well, okay, maybe not a Gold Medal, but I'll be on the Team."
"If you want to be a Star, you'll have to do better than just making the Team. They're Gold Medalists who aren't stars. Team Gold doesn't always make you special either. Who'll remembers the names of the Woman's Gymnastics Team? They all won Gold."
"Okay, so it's tough. I get that." says Harvey. He opens his locker, and pulls out underwear.
A large young man wearing a Che Guevara T-shirt comes around the lockers. "You, Harvey? You? Can't do it alone. You need agents, trainers, managers, orthopedic surgeons, psychics, whatever. And they don't come cheap either. You got a rich uncle? Financial benefactor?"
Harvey pulls out his pants. "Guess I'll have to it on my own. Others have done it on their own, I'm sure."
Conway shakes his head, "Don't count on it." He puts on his socks.
"It's not so much Gold," says Lyle. "It's who they are, their story, how you feel when you see them. Lolo Jones came in fourth in the hurdles, but I think she's a Star.
"I can do that." says Harvey. He pulls up his jeans.
"You'll have to get a Life Coach, Harvey." says Conway. "Sorry, but you gotta sound smart in front of the camera. I'm being honest here, you want to be a Star. Boring is death. Nobody wants to hear canned speech. Takes more than a medal."
Lyle stands by his locker. He nods. "It's true," he says.
"Look at Reese Hoffa. A star?" says Conway. He points his SmartPhone at Harvey. A picture. "He got a bronze in the shot put, but a star? A real sincere sounding guy, but..." He pokes at his phone. "Do you know who this is?" Again he points his phone. "Jenn Suhr, pole vaulter. She got Gold and is she a star? There's a lot more to it."
"A Star? It's all personality," says Che. "You're a Star if the TV says you are. Comes down to personality, and if big corporations think you can sell their stuff. Gold Medal is a plus for sure, but being an Olympian is more than enough if they like you."
"Make the team first, Harvey " says Conway.
Another gymnast stops and listens. "Sharapova. There's a Star. No Gold Medal, but I'll take her over any of those other Gold Medal types."
An older man with a whistle around his neck, sticks his head around the lockers. "Meeting guys. Five minutes."
"Hey, coach. Harvey here wants to Star in the Olympics. The one in Rio."
The coach stops. He looks at Harvey. "And...why not? Eight hours a day in the gym, for four years. Why not? I'll be watching on TV."
"What makes an Olympic Star, coach," says Lyle. "Harvey wants to be a Star."
The coach puts his foot on the bench, and leans over. "A star, huh? Missy Franklin, Phelps, Usain Bolt, and those two volleyball girls, the one whose husband catches for the Dodgers." He rubs his jaw. "Being a Star is more than Gold. You have to be recognizable. That lady who won the skeet shooting? I don't even know what she looks like, much less her name. She got Gold. And the guy who won the steeplechase, doing that dance, after he won Gold. Legit Stars of the Games? I don't think so."
"Why then don't these people hire a voice coach, or an acting coach?" says Conway. "There's so much money to be made after the Olympics. Dwight Stones, I don't know if he's got Gold, but he's always around when there is a televised track meet."
"Personally, I like the happy, friendly people," says Coach Burnett. "Not the ones that look so serious. It's supposed to be a fun time for them. That's why they call them Games. I get enough serious looks from Administration Types already." He smiles. They all smile back.
"I hate watching people that seem...I don't know...unfriendly." says Lyle. "Usain Bolt. He's a Star. A real Star. Just be like him, Harvey."
"Popularity of the sport, too Coach," says Che. "Track and Field, Swimming, Gymnastics, all good. Equestrian, Badminton, Canoeing, not so much. It's TV exposure. You see someone so many times they becomes stars? The announcer says you're great a thousand times, you're great."
"So guys..." says the coach. "We've got four years to talk about this."
They all stand, close their locker doors, and heft their backpacks.
"Harvey, you want to talk about Rio, my door's always open. Gotta start now. But...most Olympic Gymnasts started at about six years old."
"I've been doing this since I was about ten."
"Oh my God," says the coach. He slaps his forehead. "You didn't start until you were...ten?" He laughs, and they high five.
"Okay, guys, Meeting." he says.
As the team meanders off toward the meeting room, Coach Burnett leans over to Harvey. "Harvey, if you're good enough, we'll work on all the other stuff later. Just stay excited about it. That's all. We'll have this discussion again in a year or so. We'll see how you feel about it then."
They walk out together.
"Be an exciting person, " says the coach. He looks down. "You know what I mean, a person everybody wants to be around. That'll get you further in life than your gymnastic career. Trust me." Then he says, "But, hey, being an Olympian, well, that won't hurt either."
