While some men want to be tall, dark, and handsome, I just wanted to be small and emaciated. Well, maybe not totally emaciated. I am a Queens, native New Yawker… born from a Puerto Rican mother and an Italian father. It was a curse… a curse I say, as my family knows no other way than speaking with their hands. I was that tiny kid with knobby knees who was constantly stuffed into lockers at school, given wedgies, and beaten up by girls… in a nice way. I thought this nightmare would never end until one day, at age 12, my mother took me from Sunday church to Belmont Racetrack. It was then when I saw the jockey’s… these little brave men who stood arrogant like kings and walked like warriors as they mounted their four-legged, steeds… only later to return from the locker room in a 3 piece suit and a beautiful woman… They were the cock of the walk. This is for me. This is what I want to do. So, I became a professional racehorse jockey at the age of 16. But not without adversity threatening my dream with every single breath of my life. I begged God every night for the unthinkable… but when he didn’t come through… you did what you had to do… and then pay that price.

Anyone… who has a dream, a passion, a love, or a goal; knows what real pain is. This is my play… SMALL.