Blah blah blah, Olympics, blah blah blah, your dream. It’s the same thing Peary has heard over and over again. Every chance you get, you tell everyone willing to listen that you’re training for the Olympics. That your squad is here, in the International Ski Jumping Camp in Germany, and you’re all going to the Olympics.

Yeah, right.

Truth is, the coach for your country’s squad sucks. He’s not an effective teacher, he’s emotionally paralyzed, and he’s mean. Really mean, and not a big fan of any minorities, women included. So when you discover that the one and only Bronson Peary works at the camp, plowing the snow for the slopes, you literally beg him to he your teacher.

For weeks on end, it’s all please please please and the biggest puppy eyes he’s ever seen. It’s revolting. And then it starts to work. You’re a nice person, a good kid (which he calls you because he’s relatively older than you are), and a truly talented jumper. Why not at least help? When was the last time he did anything good for the economy?

So Peary decides to help. Not train, not coach, but help. He even makes this very clear to you when he sees your face light up upon his offer.

“I am not your coach,” he says firmly. “I’m not teachin’ you a damn thing. Got it? I’m just helping you.”