Trophy Polish

I noticed an old silver-plated training plaque sitting on a low equipment shelf behind the bench, completely dulled by greasy finger smudges and damp air. Champions deserve proper shine! I grabbed a forgotten yellow sweatband from the wooden rack, slipped my plush arm right through the elastic band, and got straight to work. Planting my cleats hard against the damp plywood floor, I put my whole back into vigorous circular rubs. Smudge after smudge disappeared beneath the fuzzy terrycloth until the silver mirror gave back a crisp, grinning reflection of my snout. Standard elevated!