"God has made this for a reason. I feel like I can tell people about it," Compton says. "It's not just something I believe, it's something I've seen. I'm not a crazy guy. That's the whole thing about transplants. Some crazy tragedy, this guy is killed, and I'm having a new life. There's nothing better that could have happened out of a bad situation. For him to be able to save my life—several lives, really—through the evil, something good comes out of it."
Compton is in a hurry to go fast again. He glides in and out of traffic on the Dolphin Expressway in his black BMW convertible on his way to give a lesson and earn a few bucks. No tickets this time. Maybe his future will be playing. Maybe not. "Through this whole experience, I feel like I have to tell my story," he says. "Whether I share that through playing or whether I share that through being able to talk to people, it's something that I'm supposed to do." The clock has been reset, and he can feel it ticking with every beat of an athlete's heart.
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