At recess, we’ve been training for Track and Field Day. Mrs. Klinger makes us run relay races around the playground and hosts sprints that the same people win every time.
Only fifth and sixth graders get to go to Track and Field Day. It’s in Nashville at the high school. Mom says they did Track and Field Day when she was in fifth grade too. The Nashville Elementary kids always win because they get to practice on the real track. Lucky ducks.
I already kind of hate running, so I sign up for one race and all of my other events are field events. High jump. Long jump. Shot-put, which is really a softball throw since they don’t want to injure our little muscles.
We all get matching t-shirts to wear that day. It is easy to spot the Nashville kids when we get to the track. They are walking around like they own the place. I’ve heard about them. Their parents run shops in Nashville and they are bit more citified than the rest of us at the elementaries on the outskirts.
I know some of the girls from basketball teams. Natalie B. goes to Nashville and she’s as tall as me. She has her long dark hair pulled back in a pony tail too. It is no surprise that we are two of the top contenders for the high jump. We tie for second, she and I. I’m excited. I know that everyone gets a participation ribbon just for showing up, but the first three places get special ribbons awarded to them at assembly on Friday morning.
The relay race is the last event. We all gather in the middle of the track and watch our teams duke it out for the title. Our boys put up a good fight, but of course Nashville wins.
Nonetheless, we are all abuzz on Friday morning, sitting in our class rows on the gym floor, waiting for assembly to begin. We all stand and face the flag, and you can hear Mrs. Donovan’s wobbly voice louder than all the others as we sing the National Anthem. Announcements are made - special reminders for the Spring Concert and a Grandparents luncheon next week.
Finally, the ribbons! They are all displayed on a rolling cart that Mrs. Klinger pushes to the center of the gym. Into the microphone she begins announcing names and scores and placements. We clap and clap. It takes forever for her to get to the high jump. I know a second place ribbon isn’t blue, but it’s mine and I can’t wait to show it off to Nana and Papaw when I get home!
She announces the high jump winner, followed by Natalie B. in second place, and my name is called for third. What? I approach the front, puzzled by this turn of events. She tells me later that they could only award one second place ribbon, and since Natalie was alphabetically before me, I got third by default. “Congratulations!”
No comments:
Post a Comment