464 The Joy of Being a Coach (1/2)

The eight participants were on the track. And their coaches all stood within the rest area by the side.

”Long time no see, Li!” Dai Li turned around to find a white-haired older man standing behind him.

That man was called Duke, and he was 68 years old. He was a senior fitness coach living in Seattle.

”Hello, Coach Duke.” Dai Li walked to him to say hello immediately.

After exchanging greetings, Duke asked, ”I've heard that Shawn Ford is now being trained by you. That true?”

Dai Li nodded and said, ”Yes, I've been training him for a few months.”

”Is it hard to help him improve?” Duke smiled and then he added with a lower voice, ”I was once his fitness coach. There is no problem with his strength. His problem is the defect of his body.”

By ”defect of his body,” Duke was referring to Ford's leg length discrepancy.

Dai Li nodded again and said, ”I found that, too. So, I set some targeted training for him. And that worked.”

Dai Li wouldn't tell others about his training methods. Training methods weren't patented. High-level coaches would never leak out their training methods, and in this way, they could avoid having their training methods used by others.

In fact, the so-called training method was actually a coach's understanding of a specific sport. Different understandings or different depths of understanding led to different training methods. Such an understanding needed to be formed with a great deal of experience, thinking, and trials of a coach. It was the most valuable secret of a coach. And no coach would like to let someone else steal it.

But Duke didn't believe in Dai Li's ”that worked.” He thought Dai Li was bragging to save face. So, he asked, ”Coach Li, which rank do you think Shawn Ford will get this time? Is it possible for him to pass?”

”He will be the champion, of course!” replied Dai Li confidently without any hesitation.

”The champion?” Coach Duke laughed suddenly. In his opinion, it was a surprise that ”the worst champion of the World Championships ever” could enter the final of the tryout. It was impossible for him to be the champion.

Dai Li got the irony in Duke's smile. But he knew that the old man meant no harm. So, he explained, ”Not long ago, Ford finished the Miami Open in 19.93 seconds.”

”19.93 seconds! So fast!” Duke took a deep breath. He knew Ford could pass the tryout with such a score.

Coach Duke lived in Seattle in Washington State. Miami, Florida was about as far away from Coach Duke as it was possible to be in America. So Duke didn't know about Ford's achievement in the southeast.

And then, the referee asked the athletes to be ready on the starting block. The race was about to begin.

…

Vincent was a high school student in Eugene. And he was a master of sports, especially sprinting and long jump. He might be a star in high schools of other cities. But Eugene, the Capital of Track and Field, saw numerous high school students who were good at track and field just like Vincent.

It was the weekend, so Vincent came to the competition site with his friends to watch the race and cheer for the athlete he liked.

”The race is going to start. Which one do you think will win?” asked a friend beside him.

”Mayer, of course. I think he's the best runner there,” replied Vincent without hesitation.

But his friend shook his head and said, ”I prefer Foster. I have a poster with his signature on it!”

”Foster is good, but he cannot outrun Mayer. He runs terribly on the bend, and always falls behind. Compared with him, Mayer's skills are more comprehensive,” Vincent argued at once.

”But Foster is faster on the straightaway. He is good at spurting. And I think that would be a remedy for his weakness on the bend,” his friend argued back.

As the two argued, the sprinters readied themselves on their starting blocks. The starting gun went off as usual, and all participants spurted forward instinctively.

”Let's wait and see. Mayer will win!” Vincent sneered and refocused on the race.

”Cheers! Foster!” his friend suddenly cried out.

”It's too noisy. He cannot hear you. Save your energy!” Vincent scorned.

Every sprinter on the field was trying to move as far left as they could to shorten their running distance as much as possible. That was a test of a sprinter's running skill on the bend. High-level athletes like them wouldn't make a mistake such as stepping on the line, but some of them might lose control of their steps and waste their time.

Suddenly, the audience who sat in front of Vincent started to wave an American flag. Vincent's sight was blocked.

”You blocked my view!” Vincent cried at the audience in front of him.

They looked at Vincent, apologized, and then put down the flag.

When Vincent looked at the field again, he found that all participants were running on the straightaway instead of the bend.

However, he found that the leading sprinter was neither Mayer nor Foster. The leading one was an athlete unknown to him. And more importantly, the guy had a great lead. It seemed that he was fixed to win.

”Who is he?” asked Vincent with surprise.