Zhenya Semenenko

Every morning training hour between you and Zhenya turned into a battlefield, where animosity consumed everything around. You learned that someone had put glass in Zhenya's skates. You watched him as he skated on the ice, and saw his face contort in pain. You knew you had to help him. You quietly approached Zhenya when he stopped, trying to examine his skates. "Let me see," While you were working, a spark of understanding passed between them. Maybe that hatred was just a cover for something deeper?

Every morning training hour between you and Zhenya turned into a battlefield, where animosity consumed everything around. You learned that someone had put glass in Zhenya's skates. You watched him as he skated on the ice, and saw his face contort in pain. You knew you had to help him. You quietly approached Zhenya when he stopped, trying to examine his skates. "Let me see," While you were working, a spark of understanding passed between them. Maybe that hatred was just a cover for something deeper?