Team building: former football to stars Terrence and Torry Holt want to win fame in the construction game.

• Author: Campbell, Spencer
• Position: Holt Brothers Construction LLC - Cover story

Terrence Holt doesn't want his team to come across as contrived choirboys, so while he and Leonard Barrier sport white shirts, he told Mike Pritt to wear a black one. Besides, Pritt quips, he looks thinner in black. In about an hour, they will pitch why their company should get a piece of the $35 million renovation of N.C. State University's William Neal Reynolds Coliseum. Holt isn't nervous--"No, no, no, no, no. I'm excited. More excited"--but for two days the president of Holt Brothers Construction LLC has been running through rehearsals. This morning is the last chance to perfect their presentation.

Reynolds was the largest arena in the Southeast when it opened in 1949 but is now an elderly edifice that doesn't even have air conditioning. (It got so hot during President Barack Obama's speech there in 2011 that at least six in the audience fainted.) Holt Brothers isn't vying for general contractor; the project is far too large. It wants to be the protege in a university program that matches smaller, typically minority-owned companies with larger, more experienced ones. It's like an internship. Holt Brothers had to apply for it, and now it's one of three finalists.

The coliseum is important to Terrence and his older brother, Torry. The vice president of the company also might be the best football player in N.C. State history, a wide receiver who went on to accumulate accolades that have him knocking on the door of the Pro Football Hall of Fame. Now 37, he fondly recalls students streaming from dorms and marching down Cates and Dunn avenues toward each other, meeting inside the arena abutting the railroad tracks. Terrence, 33, also played at State and professionally. "To be honest, I had a goal of playing 10 years in the National Football League. I didn't make that goal. I had a goal of not only being an All-American my senior year, I wanted to be Player of the Year in the conference." His brother did that; he didn't.

And he didn't bond with Reynolds Coliseum as a student--the men's basketball program moved to an off-campus venue his sophomore year. But participating in its renovation would be a big step toward another goal he set for himself: running one of North Carolina's largest general contractors. "This, for me, is another opportunity to continue to reach the goals that I set for myself."

So despite his protestations, he's somewhat edgy as the final run-through begins at company headquarters in Raleigh. ("I know he was excited this morning," Torry says later. "He's been prepping for the longest.") He whistles an indistinguishable but sprightly tune while moving a speakerphone from the counter to the conference table to patch through Torry, who won't make rehearsal or the presentation but wants to wish them luck. "Trust one another and have a good time," he says. Four employees have funneled in from their offices down the hall to serve as stand-ins for the interviewers. "This is probably a tougher crowd than we'll face today," says Pritt, the company's chief estimator. He's seated on Terrence's left. Barrier, vice president of operations, is on his right.

"I want them to be," the boss responds. He sets the timer on his iPhone--they'll have 20 minutes to present--and makes sure everyone has muted their ringers. "Critique us. Here we go."

He thinks they were at their grandmother's house, but Torry disagrees. "No, we were at the apartment. Momma was working third shift." Terrence: "Grandma was there." Torry: "She was there."

They were playing "slaps," a game invented inside the four-room apartment they shared with their parents and sister. Whoever touched the wall higher up won. This particular time--like a lot of other times--competition got the better of them. When Torry jumped, Terrence gave him a brotherly shove. Torry fell, gashing his head near the base of his skull. And they couldn't tell anyone. "Fights had to be resolved before Mom and Dad came home," Torry says. "Or it was a butt-whipping."

Their...