Mistaken age dashes hope for trophy
Brady C. Mallory
Issue date: 11/19/08 Section: Opinion & Editorial
The time came and we began our quest to outrun the crazy next to us. I slowly made my way to the group leading the pack, each stride syncopated to music by Bob Dylan and the Dixie Chicks that fueled my entire trek.
In the distance I could see the finish line, as well as a man or woman trotting along in ill-fitted purple hot pants. I was too focused to laugh; I was in it to win it. The last moments, with all of the strength I could muster, I bolted ahead in an enthusiastic sprint.
The results were posted, and I discovered that out of 1,118 people, I had won 72nd with a time of 25:50. That is right, 3.1 miles in 25:50, which was a personal record. A rush of euphoria overtook me when I realized that I had won third in my age group for men. Finally, an athletic trophy that I could give to my dad in hopes that he would consider placing it on the bottom shelf of his award saturated alter to his dogs.
My joy was short-lived when I realized that the fools in charge had listed me as 17, thus placing me in the 15-19 age group. I soon realized that my five o'clock shadow and legs that are hairier than the Geico caveman would expose me for the fraud I had become. I was honest with the announcers and told them to give the trophy to the actual 17-year-old boy who rightfully deserved it.
Friends, you know what honesty got me? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I placed ninth in my real age group. Do you know what ninth place gets? Not a trophy, that's for sure! Perhaps one day I will win an athletic trophy that will win the love of my father. Until then, I have learned a valuable lesson: never try.
In the distance I could see the finish line, as well as a man or woman trotting along in ill-fitted purple hot pants. I was too focused to laugh; I was in it to win it. The last moments, with all of the strength I could muster, I bolted ahead in an enthusiastic sprint.
The results were posted, and I discovered that out of 1,118 people, I had won 72nd with a time of 25:50. That is right, 3.1 miles in 25:50, which was a personal record. A rush of euphoria overtook me when I realized that I had won third in my age group for men. Finally, an athletic trophy that I could give to my dad in hopes that he would consider placing it on the bottom shelf of his award saturated alter to his dogs.
My joy was short-lived when I realized that the fools in charge had listed me as 17, thus placing me in the 15-19 age group. I soon realized that my five o'clock shadow and legs that are hairier than the Geico caveman would expose me for the fraud I had become. I was honest with the announcers and told them to give the trophy to the actual 17-year-old boy who rightfully deserved it.
Friends, you know what honesty got me? ABSOLUTELY NOTHING! I placed ninth in my real age group. Do you know what ninth place gets? Not a trophy, that's for sure! Perhaps one day I will win an athletic trophy that will win the love of my father. Until then, I have learned a valuable lesson: never try.
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