It’s 2017, and a wiry, wide-eyed freshman hooper is playing — dominating — against kids older and stronger than him. Three years and some-hundred days later in the Apollo Commons, Max Klesmit sits as humbly as any high school student, though his name is as widely recognized as the Wofford basketball logo that’s printed across his chest.

With his arms propping his head as if daydreaming, Max reflects on the late nights and early mornings he spent practicing in the Conant Gym, a dusty, non-air-conditioned hotbox. Night after night, sweating through drill after drill under blinding fluorescent lights; torment described almost as a weekend vacation in the Bahamas by Max.

He will always love the process.

At his side on most of those nights stands his father, Rich, and brother, Cal. The former orchestrating drills and the latter pushing Max at every turn.

But even after he blossomed to 6’3”. Even after he broke the school record for points in a game twice in one week. Even after his hard work paid off on the court, interest from colleges is just that — interest. Offers roll in like molasses draining from a coffee straw, failing to reward his unwavering dedication.

“It didn’t really kick off until the middle of my junior season. From there it kind of just exploded.”

During the end of his junior season, the narrative shifts and Max will nab his first offer from Minnesota Duluth, then add UW-Milwaukee, Wofford (where he would ultimately commit to) UW-Green Bay, Rockhurst and others. For Max, these months validate his work ethic — recognition for nights with only him and the hardwood.

Maybe the whole process embodied every one of those individual late-night workouts. Maybe it is a test of endurance and grit, a microcosm of his character.

Or maybe it takes college coaches a little longer to find a player that spends most of his time hidden within cinder block walls — working.