- TOP PLAYERSOffensePABLO S. TORRE | August 20, 2012
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- Faces in the CrowdJune 11, 2001
Everything was caving in. Coach Donlon had taken some notes, and he started reading from them. "Your boss has said that you forged some checks."
"Well, I only forged one."
He went right on: "You're overdrawn at the bank."
"That's true." I had ignored the notices I received from the bank.
"You know," he said, "your boss can press charges if he wants to, for forging that check and forging company cab vouchers." I was caught. Nabbed. I felt anguish and embarrassment. This was my bottom, the worst day of my life.
After some weak denials, I finally admitted I had a problem with cocaine. I knew I needed help. Not just because my mother and Coach Donlon kept saying it, but because, finally, I believed it.
I owe a lot to Coach Donlon for helping me believe it. He drove me to Brooklyn the next day to see Father Vincent Gallo, a priest who had helped other kids who came off the streets with drug problems. He told me that rehab only works if you want it to, if you realize you have no other choice. That it won't work if you're going because someone else wants you to.
But I really wanted help. I was tired of the suffering and the lies, so tired of being sick and tired.
Father Gallo recommended a place in Pennsylvania, the White Deer Treatment Center in Allenwood, that would admit me the next evening. "I have a feeling about you," he told me before I left. "I really feel that all of this will be worth it. I can see in your eyes that you really want to get better. Remember, people who need help from drugs aren't bad people getting good. They're sick people getting better."
My mother and stepfather drove with me to White Deer. I was frightened. I remember telling my mother how crazy it seemed. Not because I wanted to turn around, but because I couldn't believe it had finally come to this.