Read Online The McGillicuddy Book of Personal Records by Colleen Sydor - Free Book Online

spectacle coming around the track.
    â€œSomeone should tell that kid the marathon was yesterday,” joked one of them.
    â€œMaybe he’s been running since yesterday,” called another. “Maybe he’s going for a world record.” He held an invisible microphone in front of a teammate’s face: “Tell me, son, how does it feel to hold the world record for the slowest marathon ever run?” Some of them laughed. But Slang was too fresh from his own marathon experience to find it funny—he still had the aching muscles to remind him. He began walking toward the boy and his dog, and a small crowd followed. The coach blew a sigh of frustration, but his curiosity was as strong as anyone’s. He trailed behind them.
    Slang reached the finish line just in time to catch Lee as his knees gave way. He took Lee by the armpits and laid him out on the track. The kid was mumbling, trying to say something.
    â€œWhat?” said Slang, lowering his ear.
    â€œPuffer,” choked Lee. “Left pocket.”
    Slang dug around in Lee’s pocket until he found his asthma inhaler. He put it to Lee’s lips and pressed the nozzle. It took a few minutes, but Lee started to breathe easily again, and the whole time the smile never left his face. “ I broke through ,” he whispered.
    Far better is it to dare mighty things … than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.
    â€“ Theodore Roosevelt

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    Be not forgetful to entertain strangers for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
    Hebrews 13:2
    â€œTake him up to his front door and make sure his parents are home, Kischuk,” called Coach, as Slang helped Lee toward the parking lot. “And make sure you show up for the game good and early tomorrow!”
    The coach, being a devoted dog lover and the devoted husband of a woman with dog allergies, roughhoused with Santiago another second or two before reluctantly letting her go. “Beauty,” he whispered as she loped off to catch up with Lee.
    â€œYou didn’t have to volunteer to take me home,” said Lee on the way to Slang’s car. “Really, we don’t mind taking the bus.”
    â€œAre you kidding?” said Slang, “you’re my ticket outta here today, kid.” He grimaced from the pain in his calves. “No person should be subjected to a soccer practice the day after running a forty-two-kilometer marathon.” He playfully elbowed Lee. “Consider yourself my angel of mercy.”
    Never mind an angel, Lee felt like a pipsqueak beside this muscular athlete. Even so, he realized with some pride that he also felt a certain kinship. After all, they’d both recently experienced “the agony and the ecstasy” firsthand, right?
    Slang unlocked the car door for Lee. “Ignore the mess,” he said, clearing a pile of books and hamburger wrappers from the front seat. “Now, you’re sure you’re okay? I don’t mind taking you to emerg,” he said. “Asthma’s a serious thing. I had it myself as a kid.”
    An other similarity, thought Lee.
    â€œNever been better,” said Lee, putting on his seatbelt, and he meant it. He reached an arm over to calm Santiago in the back seat. Lee wasn’t exactly great at small talk, but at least there was the marathon. “So … how’d you do in the race yesterday?”
    â€œPretty good in the first half,” said Slang, who seemed so comfortable inside his own skin that Lee wondered if he’d ever suffered an awkward moment in his life. “But I ran into a little difficulty near the end.” Lee couldn’t imagine this guy having difficulty with any thing. Slang took the sweatband from his forehead and tossed it in the back seat. As he shook his wild hair loose, Lee had a feeling he’d met this guy