"I've wanted that championship trophy for a long time. There's no way I'm giving it up," I said.At that, Dad lifted his tear-and-blood-streaked face and pulled out a faded, yellowed cloth pouch from his pocket.He unwrapped the pouch layer by layer. Inside were crumpled bills of various denominations, along with a few wrinkled 100-dollar notes.He held the stack of money up to me and said hoarsely, "How much does that trophy cost? I'll pay for it! We'll pool our money together to buy it for you. Just don't play in the tournament. Let us buy the trophy for you, alright?"I looked at the pile of money and scoffed."That wouldn't even cover the cost of a tiny piece of that trophy. You really are a bunch of clueless country bumpkins," I retorted, not bothering to hide my contempt."We have money too!"The moment Uncle Dwayne said that, all the relatives and distant kin began pulling money out of their pockets.There were ten, 20, 50, and 100 dollars. They dumped the crumpled bills
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