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Team Tryouts by Tim


Being a member of the Arapahoe High School's basketball team was probably the biggest honor a guy could ask for, since their winning tradition was known Nationally, and the head coach, Jim Hunter, was legendary. The big, husky man with the hard eyes and short flattop looked more like a military commander than a coach, and his word was never questioned. His expectations of his player's hadn't changed since he started coaching 30 years earlier, including his dress code. So with tryouts starting Monday, all the potential players made sure they would fit the mold. That meant wearing clean, solid white T- shirts, white socks, shorts cut above the knees, and get a haircut. No player for hunter could have hair covering his ears, eyes, or collar. But the underlying talk went further.

Basically for an unproven freshman or transfer, very short hair was a definite plus. Dale Farley was new to the school, since his family had moved to town only one month earlier. The star of his middle school and high school teams in Detroit, making the squad wasn't much of a concern to him.

No coach had ever questioned his shoulder length hair that he usually pulled back into a pony tail for games. In fact the inevitable comments it would draw from opponents only fueled his competitive fire more, usually resulting in his best games. Once a entire rival team kept calling him "Sweetheart" all game. He lit them up for 40 points in a blowout victory. At first he thought the dress code a joke until he introduced himself to Hunter one day after school. The coach had a dominating presence.

His handshake was strong and firm and he looked you straight in the eye. Dale couldn't help but notice his solid white haired flattop which was both very short and standing stiff at attention. He couldn't imagine any other cut on this man. Indeed no one had ever seen Coach Hunter in any other style, and the joke was he was born with a flattop. "Good to meet you son. I understand you are a fine player and hope you'll be trying out for the team." "Thank you sir. I'm planning to." "Practice starts Monday. White T-shirt, shorts, white socks. And get a haircut." With that the coach walked away. Dales eyes were wide. He was actually serious about this hair thing.

That Saturday morning Dale arrived early at the local barber shop. He wanted to be done with it and not have too many people watching his misery. Nobody else was in the shop as he reluctantly sat down in the big chair, pulled the pony-tail holder out of his thick jet black locks, and ran his fingers through his hair one last time. Al, the barber, snapped the white cape around him quickly and tightened the tissue around his neck. Dale thought he was going to choke. It had been a while since Al had seen a customer with such long hair. "What'll it be?" "I'm going out for the Arapahoe basketball team..." Al quickly smiled. He had cut many heads of hair for Coach Hunter. "You'll be wanting it real short then I guess." Al mentally prepared to transform Dale into a baldy. "Not too short!" Dale shot back. "I don't really want to cut my hair at all. Never had to for any of my other coaches." "Your other coaches weren't Coach Hunter.

He requires short hair." "What I understand he requires is hair above the collar, just over the ears, and out of the eyes. So that's the cut I want, and absolutely no shorter!" Dale was happy the shop had numerous big mirrors on all the walls so he'd be able to keep his eyes on the barber. "You want it blocked or tapered in back?" "What does that mean?" Al showed him pictures on the wall of both a block and a taper. Both looked alarmingly short to Dale, the taper more so, and both would cost far more hair than he was willing to sacrifice. "Neither. Just cut it straight across just above the collar." Al sighed and picked up his squirt bottle and comb and quickly dampened down all of Dales hair and combed it straight down. It was thick and heavy.

Then he picked up his scissors and fairly rapidly made a clean cut starting at the right front about an two inches below the bottom of the ear, and worked his way around. When done about 5 inches of length fell to the floor and Dale was left with a very feminine looking Bob, just above the collar, parted in the middle. Then Al combed his bangs straight down over his face, took his scissors and cut a straight line across just covering the eyebrows.

When the long strands fell Dale almost laughed at the ridiculous look in the mirror as now he looked even more like a girl. Then Al took his scissors and cut out around both ears, just enough so all the ear was visible. He made no attempt to cut anything off the top, or to blend anything at all. He just followed the instructions to the letter.

The cut looked amateurish and ridiculous. "OK, just as you asked. What would you like me to do now?" Dale hated the cut but figured if he slicked it back it wouldn't be so noticeable except from the back. He had met the coaches requirements, barely, but still had enough hair that it would grow out reasonably fast, and he wouldn't look like he just got drafted. "That's enough cutting. Could you just put a bunch of gel in it and slick it all straight back?" Al was momentarily speechless that this crude chop was all the cutting he was going to do. He thought Dale would surely submit to a shorter, more professional cut when he saw how awful he looked. "If that's what you want." He turned and filled his hand with a good sized wad of Brylcreem and massaged it into the hair.

Dale winced at the odor, knowing this wasn't the type of gel he expected, but grinned as his hair combed back tight and sleek, much like when it was in a pony-tail, and disguised the severity of his cut. Al removed the cape and Dale was amazed at the large amount of his hair that now lay on the shop floor. He stepped down and payed the barber with a respectable tip.

His hand automatically shot up to the back, puzzled by the lack of hair against his shoulders. He sniffed his hand with the remnants of the Brylcreem. First thing to do was go home and shower this junk out of his hair. As he left the shop he almost bumped into a classmate, Roger Carlson. He was also coming in for his basketball tryout cut. Roger was a two-year letterman, though never a starter. "I thought you were going to get a haircut for tryouts?" "I just did!" Roger just laughed. "Coach Hunter will never go for that." "It's above the collar and ears and out of my eyes." "That's not the point." Roger just shook his head and chuckled as he stepped into the shop. Dale decided he'd sit in his car and wait to see what kind of cut Roger would get, since his hair was covering all of his ears, over his eyes, and just covering his collar. He couldn't imagine this rather sloppy boy with short hair.

Ten minutes later Dale almost didn't recognize Roger as he left the shop. His hair had been neatly parted on one side and was now lying flat across the top, no doubt aided by some of the Brylcreem. The sides were also short, well around his ears and almost letting the scalp show. The back had been tapered, revealing pale scalp at the bottom and getting slightly longer as it reached towards the crown. It was an extreme haircut but actually a big improvement. Now Roger looked much more an athlete and not a slob.

Roger looked over at Dale and pointed at his head with a grin. "This is a haircut." "Do all the guys get them so short?" His eyes were busily looking over this fresh cut, noting exactly what had been done. "Yeah, about like this or maybe a bit shorter." Roger got in his car and drove home. Dale did the same, his classmate's haircut and words still fresh in his mind.

When he got home he quickly showered out the horrible gel and blow dried his hair. It did look absolutely awful, like he had cut it himself. Though he didn't want shorter hair, he knew this look was a mistake, so he quickly dunked his hair in the sink, slicked it straight back, and headed out in search of another barber shop. He figured he'd get a cut like Rogers, but with the back blocked instead of tapered. Tapered was just too short.

The next barber shop he found was busy, with both barbers hard at work and a handful of clients filling the chairs, watching a football game on the television or reading the outdated magazines, their edges folded from use. This shop also had numerous mirrors all around, so Dale breathed a little easier knowing he'd get to keep his eyes on the barber making sure he didn't go scissor happy. The sound of the clippers hard at work made his heart race. He couldn't believe he was sitting here about to lose even more hair.

He couldn't remember the last time he got a haircut, much less getting two haircuts on the same day. Finally it was his turn, and the elder, grey haired barber (Ray) gently put the robe around him and tied the tissue around his neck. It was not nearly as tight as his cut earlier. Ray ran a comb through the slicked back hair seeing what he was dealing with and grimaced at the cut. "Boy, who cut your hair like this?" "I know it's pretty bad. That's why I'm here." "So what would you like me to do?" "I want to part it on the side...." "Right or left?" "Does it make a difference?" "Sure.

The cut is for one side or another." Dale had no idea why it would make a difference. Would one side be shorter than the other? That would be strange. "OK, then part it on the left side."

"Blocked or tapered in back?" He was ready for this question now. "Blocked, but keep it fairly long, OK?" The barber showed no sign of noting this request. "You want the sides short?" "Not really. In fact keep them as long as you can without looking stupid." Dale wondered if his instructions made any sense, and also feared he wasn't being specific enough and at this persons' mercy. Ray chuckled a bit. "We'll make sure you don't look stupid."

He walked around behind Ray to get his tools and Ray looked forward for the first time, looking at the mirror just over the seated, waiting customers. His hair, now hanging down looked awful, and awfully short too. And soon it would be even shorter. Ray came around in front of him with a comb in hand and combed all his top hair forward, then ran the edge of the comb down and brought the top over from left to right, revealing a clean, hard part. He continued combing it over and patting down the top, making sure the part was perfect, then stood back so Dale could look. "Does that look about right?" Dale never wore his hair with a side part so it looked very strange, and the great thickness of his hair made it arch up a bit on top despite the moisture. He wasn't sure what the big deal was. "Yeah, I guess it's OK." "I can make the part higher or lower if you want." "This will be fine." Dale figured he could always change the part if he wanted. This haircut was certainly starting in a peculiar way. Ray combed the sides straight down making sure all was smooth and in order, then walked behind Dale to pick up his tools. With his heart pounding Dale tried to preoccupy himself by scanning this now visible wall of signs and posters around the mirror.

He just started looking at the shops price list when his head was pushed forward so his chin was nearly to his chest. Now all he could see was the robe, and when he peered up could see no higher than the waiting customers. The clippers roared to life further raising Dale's anxiety level. He felt a comb lift the hair at the base of his neck and the clippers quickly move in and chop a good portion off. He felt the shorn tresses bounce off his neck towards the floor.

The barber worked very quickly, ('especially for an old guy' Dale thought) and he could feel the clipper running higher and higher up the back of his head. He feared they were going too high and wished he could survey the damage. The back of his head now felt extremely light and devoid of hair. He feared the barber wasn't following his directions. Then his head was returned to level and Dale eagerly looked into the mirror for a look at what had already been done, but noticed nothing.

The angle he was sitting to the mirror only allowed him to see straight on and not his reflection from the mirror behind him. His eyes again surveyed the price chart as Ray slowly made his way to his side. Except for senior citizens who paid less, most of the haircuts cost the same. Getting a 'style' cost more. He wondered if his cut qualified as a 'style'. A flattop cost one price, but a 'first long hair flattop' cost another. Dale couldn't help but ask. "What's a 'first long hair flattop'?" Ray stopped in his tracks to answer. "Well, that's when someone first gets a flattop and their hair is long like yours. It takes more time to do and to train the hair..." "You have to 'train' the hair?" "Sure, it's used to lying one way and now you want it to stand up. That takes a little bit of doing." Dale wondered what was involved with 'training hair' and also wondered at his sudden fascination with the style. He guessed it was seeing the severe cut on Coach Hunter, and just shook it off as he watched Ray start in on his left side. The first thing that surprised Dale was that Ray kept the hair combed over in the part as he worked with his clipper.

He started worrying as he saw the hair getting progressively shorter and shorter, but it was clear he was following directions because a fair amount of length still remained and his scalp wouldn't be visible. The difference in the mirror between the left and right sides was very obvious, but Dale had to admit the left side now looked better since it had a semblance of style. He winced, though, as his ear was folded forward so the clippers could trim the hair around it. This was definitely shorter than he wanted, but what was done was done. It happened so fast he couldn't have prevented it anyway. Then Ray started walking over to the right side.

Dale noted that if he truly was done with the left side, then the hair above the part would be significantly longer than the hair just below the part. No wonder he wanted to know what side and where he wanted the part placed. This cut was being done for that exact placement. Dale wouldn't be able to adjust the location of the part. He also noticed his head shape looked much different now as the hair rose up bit on top and the bulk from the sides was now gone. He was looking very different indeed.

As Ray started clipping the right side Dale again started surveying the wall. His eyes fell on a poster showing six different versions of a flattop. There was that haircut again. He couldn't shake it for some reason. He looked at the different photos with great interest, amazed at the variety possible. While some seemed very similar, one was so short you really couldn't tell it was a flattop, and one was so long it looked like it would take hours of work each day to 'train it.' For the first time ever he tried imagining himself with such a haircut.

He quickly dismissed that thought as ludicrous as he watched Ray walk away from the right side, now done and matching the left. He still hadn't touched the parted hair, meaning now the hair on top of his head was at so many different lengths he would have to part it. No other style would work. The top still arched up a little too much and made his head seem too tall in relation to the rest of his body. Ray walked around in front of him totally blocking his view of the mirror and combed his bangs straight forward. Then he very delicately trimmed them with the scissors. What mystified Dale was the cut didn't seem straight.

As Ray walked around to his side Dale could now see his handiwork and was stunned to see his bangs now cut at a very sharp angle, with the left side reaching his eyebrow, but the left reaching no further than halfway down his forehead. It was a very odd look but clearly intentional. It quickly was combed to the side again and was no longer obvious. Ray surveyed the top, patting it a bit. Then he walked behind Dale and picked up some funny looking scissors. He ran his comb through the top hairs, lifting them straight up and inserting the scissors in fairly close to the scalp.

Dale worried that all of this hair was about to be cut off. "What are you doing now?!" he said trying not to sound panicked but basically failing. The scissors munched in, and selected hairs, but not all of the area, started falling to the cape. "These are thinning shears. They'll make it all lay better." He kept chopping and chopping. Dale could see hairs falling to the floor, but really couldn't see where they were coming from since the length was still there.

But when Ray again combed the hair over from left to right it was obvious the bulk was mostly gone, because now the hair lay flat against his head. The mass that forced it to arch up was now on the floor. It made a very obvious difference and now the cut looked very much like Roger's.

Dale figured he was done but felt some warm shave cream being applied around his ears and all along his neckline. He froze as Ray used a straight razor to expertly remove the foam, leaving a clean, smooth edge to the cut. "What do you think? Will that do it?" "Can I see the back?" He was handed a small hand mirror and looked at the back. It shocked him how short it now was, but it wasn't as short as it could have been.

Ray had done a good job and given him the cut he requested. "Thanks, that will do it." "Let me just finish it up." Dale hoped that didn't mean more was coming off, but was instead greeted with another handful of Brylcreem massaged into his remaining hair. Then the hair was again expertly parted and combed in place. The finished shiny, flat look made Dale feel like a Hollywood extra for an old movie. The horrible scent of the ointment again ran through his brain. He knew he'd be taking another shower when he returned home.

His face and neck was then brushed off and the cape removed. Dale stood and thanked the barber, payed his bill and tipped him well. As he walked out the door he couldn't help but look at the flattop poster one more time, close up this time. Why was he so interested in the style? Then he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He didn't even recognize himself. Not even remotely.

Ray's next customer was now in place. "How about giving me a flattop this time Ray?" the man said. Dale turned to look at the man, who currently sported a haircut not much different from his own new look. A big part of Dale wanted to sit and watch the entire process, but the other questioned his strange thoughts and he slowly left the shop greeted by the cold fall air on his face and head. When he sat down in his car his hand immediately shot up and touched his hair. It was now so short he could hardly believe it, but the thick Brylcreem locking it in place made him decide not to fondle it until after he could again wash his hair clean.

The feel of the hard part and the breeze falling around his ears and neck was very odd and very..... pleasurable. Much to his amazement, once he got past the disappointment of having to cut his hair, Dale had to admit that the transformation process had been sort of fun and all over much too soon. He wished both barbers had taken more time. He also wondered what it would have been like if he hadn't been able to watch it all, and could only rely on his sense of feel.

That would have been quite an adventure. This time the shower made it perfectly clear how short his hair now was, as even a little shampoo was definitely overkill. His hands fumbled with it wondering what happened to it all. Just the act of rubbing it with a towel almost completely dried it. He could now feel the top and really get a sense of how the thinning shears had worked. It didn't feel like his hair at all.

He combed the bangs forward and looked at the angled cut. It was very unusual. Trying to locate his new part was easy as there was a clear length difference of several inches of the hair that was to be combed over. Soon the style was quickly in place. While Dale couldn't say he liked the look, Ray had done a excellent job cutting it. The sensation was so foreign his hands constantly went up to touch it. He loved the feel of the part in his hair, how nicely it lay on top, and the clean lines around his ears. He decided to relax and turned on the television to watch a football game.

It was pregame show time and the trio of announcers were going through every needless item killing time before the game started. But when the camera was on Howie Long, rugged and handsome in his flattop, Dale wasn't listening to a word he said. He just sat mesmerized by the perfection of the cut. He wanted to reach out and feel it. Then again he started envisioning the cut on himself. If the sensation of a simple part in his hair gave him such pleasure, what would the stiff attentive hairs feel like? He found himself walking into his bathroom again, taking comb in hand, and drawing his bangs straight up.

At first he feared his hair with his present angled, thinned out cut wouldn't be able to be evened off on top, but he saw he still had far more hair than necessary if he wanted the look. In fact it alarmed him a bit to see how much more hair could go. He ran his fingers through the hair on the sides. Was he willing to lose almost all of this hair? He picked up a hand mirror and studied the reflection of the back hair.

That would all have to be sacrificed to, or at least the majority of it. He started shaking, torn down the middle of what to do. He combed his hair back in place and returned to watch the game now just starting. By halftime Dale's palms were sweating. Every time the game cameras panned the sidelines he saw another player, or coach, or fan sporting a flattop. And every single one of them looked good to him. Commercials were full of people sporting the look, and by the time the halftime show started and Howie again filled the screen, Dale's heart was racing and he had to shut off the television.

He almost sprinted back into the bathroom and stared at his reflection. He was getting used to it now but didn't sense that he would ever truly like this style on him. His trembling hands touched his hair once more. He knew what he wanted to do. He wanted to get a flattop. He went out in search of a third barber shop, sure that Ray wouldn't understand his returning for more. It didn't take him long, as the shops seemed to be everywhere. This was a smaller shop with only one chair, and just one older balding man on the chair ahead of him. He sat down and looked at the barber.

Even he had a flattop, and an extremely short one at that! The sides and back were shaved perfectly smooth, and the top, though it was obviously flat, had a huge strip of scalp clearly exposed. Dale looked around and saw the flattop poster also gracing the wall of this shop, and compared the cut on the barber to those on the chart. The barber definitely had the shortest one.

The other thing that hit him about the shop is it only had one mirror, and the chair was facing away from it. He was going to get his wish here of experiencing a cut with only his sense of feel to guide him. As he sat down to wait he could feel his pulse racing. He touched his now familiar parted hair once more, and looked at the poster trying to decide which cut to go for. The part of him that didn't want to do this in the first place was screaming for the longest one. But Dale figured that would take too much time and energy to maintain, especially when he would be all sweaty during a game.

His eyes kept going back to the barber. He was practically bald, but it looked fantastic. Dale was still undecided when the man in front of him stepped off the chair and paid for services rendered. Kurt, the barber, invited him to take a seat. As he placed the robe around his neck it was obvious to Kurt that this client was fresh from a cut, and a good one too. If it hadn't been done today than it couldn't have been more than a day or two old. He didn't mention it though. He walked around in front of Dale and looked at him. His crisp, perfect flattop was absolutely mesmerizing. "What'll it be?' Dale was visible shaking at what he was about to do, yet the words somehow came out. "I'd like to get a flattop." "All right. A standard flattop then?" Dale looked over at the poster. "Which one is the standard one?" The barber walked over to the poster and pointed to a picture. It seemed very long compared to the one Kurt was wearing, but here at the moment of truth still seemed too drastic. "I was thinking of the one that's a little longer than that." Kurt pointed to another picture which looked much like the cut sported by Howie Long. "Yes, that's the one."

The barber went behind him to attach a guard to his clippers. Then he pushed Dale's head forward so his chin was nearly touching his chest. He pressed the clippers directly against the base of his neck, and slowly started working his way up. The feeling was actually very pleasurable, but this wasn't what he really wanted and he knew it. Dale somehow got the nerve to overcome his internal struggle and blurted out "Actually, if I got mine cut just like yours, would it look as good?" The barber chuckled and looked at his head shape. "We have very similar shaped heads, so it should look similar. You want one to match mine?" Dale death-gripped the arms of the chair. "Y-y-yes." It was out there, he said it.

He figured he had about ten seconds to take it back or it would be too late. "OK, coming right up." Ray turned and removed the guard from the clippers, then returned to the partially buzzed back. Dale bit his tongue as he felt them touch his skin. Inside he was screaming as the clipper ran up the back of his head leaving only the faintest path of stubble. As the barber quickly removed almost all the hair from the back of his head his grip started loosening.

It was too late now to back down. He enjoyed the feel of the steel blades against him, though he couldn't see what was happening and it really didn't feel any shorter. It did surprise him how high up the back of his head Kurt went with the clipper. Pass after pass put Dale into a momentary trance. He was loving this. Then Kurt started in on the left side, placing the clipper firm against the temple and pushing it into the hair. He just left the side part combed over, obviously unconcerned about the longer hair on top.

That would be cut too in time. The sensation of being shorn without a mirror to watch it all was amazing. He could definitely feel the side had little if any hair left. Kurt started in on the right side and in moments had duplicated the left. Now Dale could feel the air from the shop's heater blowing against the sides of his head. It was a sensation he had never experienced before. His scalp felt alive. Kurt stood directly behind Dale and drew his crooked bangs straight up, then harshly lopped them off with scissors.

A good sized portion fell in front of his face. After all he had been through today he was amazed he still had so much to lose, as the pieces were several inches long. He continued combing and lopping from front to back. Although Dale knew it was getting very short, it seemed much too long to be a flattop, especially one like Kurt was wearing. Then the barber started spritzing his hair with a water bottle, followed by a fair amount of a thick gel massaged in. The scent clearly was not the awful Brylcreem.

Then the barber started working with the hair with a blow-dryer, and Dale figured his hair was now being 'trained.' It still felt like a fair amount of hair up there, and Kurt was gripping it with the comb as he got it to stand up. "You ever have a flattop before?" "No, why?" "Your hair stands up pretty easy. It seems like a real good cut for you." Dale smiled a bit at the compliment. He was looking forward to his final look, but not anxious for all this attention to come to an end. This whole barbershop experience was actually a treat. Finally the blowdryer was shut off and returned to it's hook, and the clippers roared to life again. Dale held perfectly still as the comb lifted his front hairs and the clippers ran over them, taking another half inch or so with them.

The hairs pored down Dale's face, tickling his nose. The barber worked his way back slow and steady. When he was done he brought the comb forward again and repeated the process even shorter. How much hair was left to cut?

Towards the middle and back Dale could clearly feel the comb resting directly against his scalp as the clipper ran over it. He knew that hair was now extremely short. The barber was now working very slowly and cautiously. Dale was stunned to find himself extremely aroused to the point of bursting. Kurt put the comb down and held Dale's head in place as he made another run with just the clipper. Dale could feel it directly against his skin and knew the top of his head would have large areas exposed just like the barber. He closed his eyes enjoying it all. Kurt noticed this and slowed down even more, making numerous passes even when there was nothing left to take off.

Then he picked up his comb again and blended in the sides and back with the top. Dale couldn't believe how much he was enjoying this, and came in his boxers. Fortunately his pants were black so it wouldn't show. He knew he had almost no hair left and didn't care. He wanted this to go on. "How often will I need to get it cut to keep this up?" "Probably every 7-10 days with it this short." That was an unexpected answer but it brought a smile to his face. He'd get to repeat this pleasure every week! "You want the sides and back shaved like mine?" "Yes please!" He was partially embarrassed at the enthusiasm of his response.

A generous amount of shaving foam was applied to his sides and back. His whole head felt warm. He couldn't believe how far up on the sides and back it was placed but didn't mind. He wondered what it would feel like to have his entire head shaved smooth. Kurt slowly yet efficiently scraped clean the sides and back, then toweled off the remaining foam. Then he got his clippers one last time to blend in the seam between no hair and very little hair.

A good blast of hairspray finished the look, locking the flattop in place. Knowing he would get to see the final look very soon had once again brought him to full arousal. "OK, what do you think? Are we twins?" The chair slowly rotated so he could see himself. The difference was startling.

Dale wondered if anyone would recognize him at school, especially since he was so new and most people hadn't met him yet anyway. His head looked smaller, his neck stronger, and he looked..... real good! He loved it! The top stood up stick straight and still seemed an inch or more in length. The sides shown smooth in the shop lights, expertly blended to the top. He tilted his head down noting the 'landing strip' that was pronounced on top. It was huge and cool! He was given a hand mirror to see the back and was amazed at how little hair he had left.

Except for the horseshoe shaped rim on top that stood up straight the rest was basically gone. "Wow, what a difference. I really like it!" "Quite a change from how you looked earlier, huh?" "Yeah, definitely." (Kurt wouldn't believe what he looked like this morning) He paid Kurt and gave him a sizable tip. "I guess I'll see you in a week."

As he left the shop he touched the top, thrilling to the spikey, crisp feel that felt unlike his hair had ever felt before. His scalp loved his touch, and stroking the smooth sides and back was heaven.

Life was very different from then on for Dale. It was strange not having to worry about his hair falling in his face. It automatically went back into the style after being dried with a towel, and a jet of hairspray could return the spikey look in seconds. During tryouts Coach Hunter couldn't hide his grin over the transformation. Dale easily made the team and was starting shooting guard, leading the team into the playoffs and making the all-city squad.

Each week he ventured back in to see Kurt and re-live the experience all over again. He only wished he had done this years ago, and couldn't imagine ever having long hair again.




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