I wrote this scene for Freshman fall quarter, with the intent of showing Jim as a world class athlete and Bert as a practical joker. I always liked this scene, but had to cut it for length reasons.
In early October, one evening Jim and Bert were both free of commitments. Jim was taking a jogging class, so he suggested that they go jog on the running track in the men’s gym. The men’s gym was old, very old. It had been constructed in 1927, and remained the main men’s gymnasium until the late 1970’s. There were locker rooms on the ground floor, a basketball court on the first floor, and above it, suspended from the ceiling, was a running track which was accessible from the second floor. The track was extremely short — 14.7 laps per mile, Bert had been told — and set up as an oval, with the ends steeply banked. The center of the oval was open space, looking down at the basketball court below. There was a waist-high chain-link fence on the inner edge of the track to keep runners from falling. There was also a wooden “floor” at the south end, just above the steeply banked curve of the track, where runners could stretch and warm up.
It was evening, about dusk, and the track was mostly deserted. The two of them started to jog counterclockwise (everyone jogged in the same direction), and Bert discovered very quickly that Jim was not just in better shape than Bert, but much better shape. Jim was a “natural athlete.” Bert had delivered newspapers in junior high and high school, and had taken ROTC and karate for his first two years at BGSU. He was in the best shape he had been in his life, and Jim was lapping him! Every so often Jim would pass him. The two ran for maybe twenty or thirty minutes. Then, at one point, the two were running together. Jim was jogging close to the rail in a relaxed fashion, not exerting himself. Bert was puffing away beside him, slightly behind him and to Jim’s right. Bert was pushing himself pretty hard, and he was only just keeping up. Bert knew that in just a few moments, Jim would speed up again and he’d be gone — again. The two were approaching the curve at the south end when a runner just blew past them. He was not jogging, he was sprinting. He passed them as if they were standing still, and took the banked end of the oval at what seemed to be a 45 degree angle.
Bert knew Jim, and he knew that Jim could not resist a challenge, however indirect, however veiled. Jim lengthened his stride. Bert knew that if he stretched himself to his limit, he could keep up with Jim for maybe another 10 steps. Instead, he reached forward with his left hand, and “goosed” Jim. It was a very good “goose.”
There was a sound, like none Bert had ever heard before. It was high and thin. He couldn’t tell what it was. He couldn’t tell from where it came. He couldn’t tell that it was human. Time somehow stretched, and for what seemed a long time, he was simply confused. Then, somehow, he decided that Jim had made the sound. Jim must have somehow known, he must be playing it up. But Jim was not playing it up. Jim took off as if rocket-propelled, hit the banked south end of the track and accelerated.
Bert was now slowing down, laughing. He, too, rounded the south end of the oval, and stopped just at the beginning of the straight part of the track. Jim had not slowed down. Instead he had passed the sprinter before they had reached the turn at the far end. The sprinter didn’t even reach the north end of the oval. He slowed to a walk, stopped, turned around, and looked with stunned amazement at Bert, his eyes silently asking, “What just happened?” Bert was by now laughing so hard that he fell to his knees on the track. He barely managed to drag himself up over the lip of the track up onto the warm-up area before Jim rounded the track and trampled him. Jim could not slow down for another lap. Bert lay on the warm-up area, laughing hysterically.
Two laps after being “goosed,” Jim finally slowed down and stopped. There was nothing to be said. Together they returned to their dorm room.
The next weekend, Alexander Senior and Doris Kowalski came to Bowling Green and picked up Jim and Bert, to take them home for the weekend. On the way, Bert told the story to Jim’s parents, and Alexander Senior laughed and laughed. (Jim seldom even saw his father crack a smile.) Back home, Bert presented his friend and new Christian brother to people in his congregation, Westside Christian Church, on Sunday morning. One member he sought out was Greg Burns, an Elder in the congregation and a successful lawyer, a man Bert liked and respected. Bert introduced Jim, and for fun told the running track story. Greg almost fell over laughing. Jim recognized that Bert now had a story, and that he’d trot it out every now and then, and give everyone a good laugh. Jim sighed.
Even that was not the end of it. What neither of them had realized at the time was that the sprinter was a star on the track team, an Olympic gold medalist, and was there with his coach, who was timing him. The coach found out who Jim was, and proceeded to call him each and every Saturday during each quarter for the next two years, trying to persuade him to go out for track. Jim always refused, without giving reasons. He did not want the coach to know just what it took to get him to do his very, very best.
Copyright (c)2016, Philip Hair. All rights reserved.