Chapter 5 — Practice Makes Perfect
Kaylie ducked into the field house and changed into her practice uniform, emerging with her shoes and socks in hand and bookbag over her shoulder. She ran across the ground barefoot and sat down to put on her shoes just in time to join the other girls in warm-up stretches.
“Girls, it’s Friday — do you want a short practice?” the coach asked. They all said yes, except Kaylie. Kaylie loved to practice as much as playing.
“OK, we’ll play one half. If everyone puts out enough effort, we’ll quit then.”
The whole team cheered, minus Kaylie, of course, and went off to the field as the coach passed out red net jerseys to half the girls to distinguish teams.
Kaylie watched as the coach handed her co-captain a jersey, as well as most of the other starting players. Kaylie didn’t get one. This will be fun she thought. I’ll be playing against the entire starting lineup with the subs. Challenging.
“Red gets the ball first,” the coach yelled as she handed it over to a girl with a red jersey. With whistle in one hand and stopwatch in the other, she made eye contact with both captains and blew the whistle.
The girls quickly got into position and threw in the ball. Kaylie held back a bit at midfield, waited for the right moment, then broke for the ball after the second pass and intercepted it, running the other way full speed. She noticed one of her team running just as hard ahead on the other side of the field and tapped the ball way out in front of the girl, who met it perfectly in stride. Kaylie kept on running for the goal. The other girl punched the ball ahead of her and kept running forward with no enemies around, but closing in fast.
By then, Kaylie had caught up to her, running parallel toward the goal, and the girl punted the ball directly in step with her. The goalie came running out to try to stop the pass, but it was too late. Kaylie kicked with her right foot and connected perfectly with the ball, knocking it past the goalie’s diving arms and into the back of the net. Her team gathered around her and cheered, taunting the starting players.
Kaylie scored three more goals before the half ended, making the final score five to one. The coach was pleased with the effort and told them to hit the showers, making the red team run a mile. Kaylie liked to be in shape and would usually run with the losing team, but today she figured it would be just as good to run to Alex’s house, which was a mile or more. She grabbed her bookbag and jogged off instead of joining the others in the showers.
Christy arrived at gymnastics class 45 minutes early; she had nowhere else to go. She went into the dressing room and pulled her favorite red, white, and blue Olympic team replica leotard over her body, and casually strolled into the gym to do some warm-ups, checking to see if any apparatus was available to play on while the younger kids were practicing. She found a couple of unused floor-level balance beams and went over to goof off on them.
After stretching, she mounted one and bounced, pranced, flipped, and flopped back and forth across it. She liked to see how long she could continue to stay on, trying harder things each pass: handstands, cartwheels, flips, back flips, twisting back flips, leaps, turns; she wasn’t missing a thing. She finally got tired, and her chest was pumping hard, so she simply stretched out and laid down on it. A new record, she smiled to herself, satisfied. After resting a few minutes and regaining some energy, she got up and did a walkover, back handspring, and double back flip off the end of the beam, sticking the landing with only a slight wobble. She then sprawled out on the mat, face down in a split, and watched the other kids.
Eventually, the coach came over and asked if she would like to assist some of the younger girls until her practice started. “Sure!” she chirped and popped up to help.
Christy helped the other girls on the floor exercise until her coach arrived, 25 minutes later. He put her through ninety minutes of grueling work on the uneven bars, vault, and floor. She was sweating profusely, but her smile glistened even more than her skin, until her coach told her practice was over. She often stayed after practice and played on the equipment for an hour or more, but it was already well past 6:00 and she wanted to ride to Alex’s house before it got dark, so she headed to the dressing room. She peeled off her leotard and literally wrung the sweat out of it. She decided to put it in a plastic bag, along with four others, and wash them at Alex’s house. She only had six of them in her locker at the gym. She took a quick shower, dried off, dressed, and then headed out.
Anna met Jessie outside the elementary school and they ran to the track, where the other kids were already warming up. She was always late for practice because she was responsible for taking Jessica with her. Her coach understood and allowed her tardiness every day. Jessie would usually go out onto the track and play in the sand in the long jump pit, but today she opted to sit on the bleachers and watch. Every other day except Friday, she would have dance class and Rick would pick her up during practice.
Anna hurried into the girl’s locker room and climbed into her tankini track outfit and joined the others on the field.
The team had a track meet the next day, so the coach didn’t want them to work too hard, mostly having them practice on sprints and techniques. Jessica watched Anna practice handing off the baton for what seemed like a hundred times.
At 5:30, after she practiced the long jump a few times, the coach called them all to the high-jump area to discuss event assignments for the meet. Jessica went to sit beside her cousin.
Anna was pleased at first: she was entered in the 100 meter run, 200 meter run, 100 and 200 relays, and then… high jump!
She hopped up quickly, “Coach!?” She put her hands on her hips, “What do you mean, high jump?” and stared angrily, awaiting an answer.
“You’re in high jump tomorrow Jenkins,” the coach said dismissively.
“But, uh, coach... I’ve never even tried high jump. Shouldn’t I be in the long jump?”
“Becky Sanders is our long jump; she won the state meet last year at it. She’s a senior, too—”
Anna stomped her foot in protest, “But I can jump a foot further than—”
“Jenkins!” The coach blared, “Get over here, now!”
“Ugh!” she huffed as she tromped over to the coach.
Coach Simmons was a lot cooler when she arrived, “Jenkins, I’m the coach, right?” he asked.
“Uh… yeah, of course you are, but—”
“Becky will win the long jump against the team we face tomorrow, but they have a girl who jumps 4’8” in the high jump, and ours can only jump 4’2”… but I know you can go much higher. Meanwhile, we have three girls who can beat their best long-jumper… do you see what I’m getting at, Jenkins?”
Anna stared blankly, considering all he had said.
Simmons sighed, “What I’m getting at is we can have two wins and a complete sweep in the long jump or one win in the long jump and second in the high jump. That’s more points for the team, isn’t it? And the way I see it, that’s just enough to ensure victory, which is what I’m supposed to do, right?”
“Yes sir,” Anna slumped in defeat.
“So what are you worried about? Heck, you might even like it! You’re gonna set the state record in the long jump before you leave here girl, but tomorrow you’re going to help the team win. OK?”
She smiled halfheartedly, “Uh, yeah, of course!”
“OK. Go sit down and stick around after we’re done.”
“OK coach,” she obediently went back to sit beside Jessica.
Coach dished out the rest of the assignments for the meet and dismissed everyone. He then walked over to the high jump bar and set it. He turned to Anna and motioned her over. “That’s 4’6”, Jenkins. What do you think?”
She smirked and backed up about ten feet. She blasted off and dove right over, head first, rolling off the mat. “Yeah, looks easy enough!” she giggled.
Shock registered on his face. “That was actually 4’l0”. And, uh, don’t you even know how you’re supposed to ju
mp this… Here, let me show you.”
Coach had quite an impressive beer gut, but he was still in amazing shape otherwise. He put his clipboard on the ground, paced off a few feet, and ran a semi-circle toward the bar. He came alongside it, planted his right foot, and heaved his body up backward, arching his back at the top and flipping his legs up and over, landing on the mat halfway upside down. “Try it that way.”
Anna’s eyes opened wide, she could remember seeing others doing it that way but she never paid attention before. She tried once and ran into the bar on her way up. She was discouraged, but the coach urged her to try again. The second time she hit the bar with her arm before going over. Then she started to get the hang of it and cleared it easily two times.
The coach was stunned again, “You’re not even arching your back — can you try that?”
“I’m afraid to. I’ll land on my head and break my neck!”
“That’s why you flip your legs over at the end; that will carry you over. Just put your hands up to catch your fall. Here, let’s move it up so you have to do it right to make it over.”
He put it up to 5’2”, then changed his mind and selected two more inches of height.
Anna hit her butt on the bar three times in a row. This is perfect, the coach thought, she would have to do it correctly now to succeed. He showed her a few more times how to do it properly, knocking the bar down twice himself. He was at his limit as well, but the technique was what he was teaching so it didn’t matter to him at all.
Jessie was half asleep on the far corner of the thick pad when Anna finally cleared the height and awoke her with a scream of jubilation, “I did it!” she yelled over and over, “I really did it!”
“Great job!” the coach praised. “Let’s do it a few more times, and then you can head for the lockers.”
She cleared it two more times, and he moved it up again. She cleared 5’8” on her second try.
“That, Ms. Jenkins, is our state record!” he revealed.
“What?” she gasped in amazement.
“Yeah, and you just learned a few minutes ago. I think you’re ready for tomorrow, don’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, wow. I guess so!”
She waved at Jessica to come with her to the locker rooms then shouted at the coach, “Hey coach! I still like long jump better, in case you have any goofy ideas!”
“I’m already thinking about taking you out of the 4x200, Anna. I think we can still win that without you, and put you in both. But not this week, OK?”
“OK! I hate the 200 anyway! Cool!” she called back happily as she strutted off with Jessica to the locker room.
When Alex left school, she pedaled a block before turning down the bike trail she had followed to school that morning, casually pacing herself this time. It had finally stopped raining and the trail was mostly dry as the sun was burning bright, except for a few puddles that had hidden from it all day. She took the time to notice all the flowers blooming, the deep, dark green of the trees, the smell of spring in bloom. It was a beautiful sight and worth it to dawdle along the path. When she turned the corner to cross the bridge over the formerly swollen stream, she was caught by a blinding reflection from the opposite bank, just above the chocolate waters where a chunk of the bank had given way to gravity and erosion. She nearly ran into the bridge railing and was temporarily stunned by the brightness. Luckily, she wasn’t racing this time or she would be nursing some skinned knees and elbows, or worse, she thought. She regained her composure and stared toward the light, shielding her eyes and squinting. She stopped and walked her bike to the other side of the bridge and leaned it against the rail, never taking her gaze from the shiny object. She continued to keep it in sight as she approached just short of the drop-off created by the powerful water, and then carefully lowered herself nearer to it.
It appeared to be a holographic baseball card or something, but was too shiny for that. She slid down the mud a few feet, ending up with her right foot on top of the object. It was solid! She knelt down and clawed away some mud. A shape emerged, roughly six inches square, and after more digging, six inches deep. Only the top was shiny from all the rain and water she guessed — the rest was encrusted with what looked like centuries of clay, hardened over time. She chipped some of it away but decided to finish digging it out first.
Although the object was hard as steel and seemed to be a solid cube, she noticed it was light as a feather when she pulled it out of the mud with a defiant sucking sound.
She then noticed something else, something rattling inside. She carried it to the bike and laid it down while searching through her bag for something to wrap around it. All she had was a lunch bag from a few days ago when she took a sandwich to school instead of eating the school fish (which she insisted always made her sick). She rubbed as much mud off the object as she could on the grass, and squeezed it into the bag, a tight fit, but a fit nevertheless. She wiped her hands on her pants, which were already streaked with mud from sliding down the bank, hoisted her backpack over her shoulder, and continued on to practice.
She arrived at practice a few minutes early, despite her casual pace, and went into the locker room to change. She slipped into her suit, thinking about the strange thing she had just found as she grabbed a washcloth and her jeans and headed for the shower.
All the other girls were in there already, they liked to get wet under the hot showers before jumping into the pool. By the time they got into the water, the wetness would feel the same as the pool water — it was a common swimmer’s trick. Alex wet the wash cloth and tried to clean the mud off her pants without completely soaking them, then went back to the changing area to hang them in front of the heater. She was thinking of getting the box out and scrubbing it when her friend, Jodie, came in and told her it was time for practice to start. As if on cue, she heard the coach’s long whistle call. She put her prize back in her locker and sped outside.
They started with relays: girls in one lane, boys in the next, alternating for each age group. Each would swim one lap of the same stroke, rest, then a lap of the next stroke through all four disciplines of swimming. There were six girls in her age group today and six boys as well, so naturally they were racing.
Usually, with Chelsea there, it was a close race, but today the girls just couldn’t keep up. Jodie was upset with her performance as she climbed out after her turn. Alex tried consoling her because she was the youngest in her age group.
Jodie had just started swimming only a year ago when she was in Alex’s class and made the mistake of asking Alex what sport she should do. She had been in ballet and her mother always placed her in beauty contests — which she hated — and she wanted to rebel by taking up a sport. Delicate and waif-like, everything on Jodie was thin, from her shoulder-length black hair to her eyebrows, nose, mouth, arms, and legs. Alex had taken the tiny urchin under her wing and continued to work with her throughout the year. When she began, the only strength she possessed was in her legs — from the ballet, Alex guessed. Now she had developed a slight trace of upper body muscles and was beginning to rise up from the depths of the team stats. Out of eight girls in their age group, she was still in the bottom half for all strokes, but was moving up steadily.
“Quit being so hard on yourself, Jo, you’re not even near the bottom anymore and you’ve only been swimming a year!”
“Oh yeah? How many points have I contributed to the team this year, hmmm?”
“You had a fourth place finish just a week ago — that’s two points,” Alex pointed out.
“Oh yeah, made a huge difference. That makes about eight points this season, you score fifty every week!” Jodie snapped as she slung the water out of her glossy hair at Alex with a playful grin on her face.
“All the other girls have been swimming at least five years, in case you forgot, and you’re almost in fourth on the team in two strokes already. That’s pretty amazing, if you ask me.”
“Yeah, but I’m last in everything else!”
/> “Pfft! You’re not last in anything. You’re fifth in breast and fly, and moving up in all of them. Wait until Monday when coach times us again, you’ll see!”
Jodie knew she wasn’t going to win this battle with Alex, and really didn’t want to, she just wanted to vent. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Are we working out after practice today?”
“Of course, how else can we turn your spaghetti arms into water pumps?” Alex giggled as she clasped her fingers around Jodie’s tiny arm.
“You’re next. Think you can pull this one out?”
“Blah! No. We’re down five seconds and I can’t even beat this guy by one second!”
They continued to race through each stroke; the girls almost beat the boys in the backstroke. At the end of practice the coach held a few members over to work on mistakes she had seen. Jodie and Alex continued to train on their own. Alex made her do two laps while holding her feet to work the arms. Jodie was worn out and sprawled out on the wet cement after the torture. The coach gave Alex a wink and a ‘thumbs up’ for her effort in helping Jodie.
“You just lay there and look pretty, beauty queen, I’m gonna do a 200 or 400 IM,” jabbed Alex as she rocked Jodie’s butt back and forth with her foot. “I suggest you at least do a 100 or you’ll be a slacker and your mom may put you back in ballet!”
Jodie rolled over and grumbled something about slavery being abolished years ago. Alex giggled and dove in.
They finished their swim and both lay gasping on the side of the pool, this time on their backs, staring up at the ceiling while their chests heaved trying to get precious air into their lungs.
“Time for the gym now,” Alex announced after the short rest. Jodie griped some more but Alex snatched her arms and pulled her to her feet.
The gym was deserted and the two girls went to work. Alex put her friend through several workouts to strengthen her arms and the other muscles used in each stroke. Jodie was starting to understand as Alex demonstrated what each muscle did.
“OK, now that my entire body hurts are we done? I thought women went to the gym to get mud-baths and massages!”
“Gee, you’re welcome, Miss Unappreciative,” Alex said dryly. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Best idea you’ve had all day!” Jodie remarked gladly.