That thing in the middle we're all holding on to is a baton and the costumes are for the 4x400 relay ran just moments before. It wasn't a record-breaking occasion, but jaws dropped all the same as we stepped out onto the track, braving the wrath of our coach and the freezing cold weather to celebrate four wonderful years of running as friends.
Taylor, of course, sat in the booth and told us how silly we were.
I guess the problem started a month before senior night, when we showed up at another team's senior night. In one race, a dude dressed as a chicken chased a dude dressed like an egg. Funny, right? The moment we heard, we all sat down to make plans for our own senior night--and so did our coach. Growling to himself about how some people 'don't take track seriously', he glared down at us one day at announcements and said that we'd race in costumes over his dead body.
Or so we heard from the underclassmen, since we'd stopped going to announcements in September.
The always devious Katherine pointed out that since none of us had actually heard him tell us not to race in costume, we could always just do it and say we didn't know. And the wonderful Rekha pointed out that even if coach got in our faces and told us no, we should just do it anyway. And I was on board because, firstly, I love running in costume, and, secondly, with Katherine and Rekha, it would be the fastest relay team I'd ever been on.
One problem? It's a 4x400 relay. And we had four senior distance runners on the team. And one of them was Taylor.
"So I've got a fun idea," I said, sitting down with her at lunch.
"No," says she.
"Remember the meet with Madison?" Katherine says. "The chicken and the egg race? We were thinking we should do the same thing on our senior night."
"Was this the same thing coach told us all not to do?" she asks, staring at me and Katherine with a look that I've seen her use while cooking--she can boil water with a glance.
"I mean," Katherine says, "yeah. But we're thinking--"
"No." She bites ferociously into a leaf of spinach. "Besides, I have to keep score."
Taylor likes keeping score. She likes organizing the little pieces of paper.
That afternoon, Katherine and I related our failure to Rekha. "Damn it," she says. "Maybe we can get one of the sprinter girls to do it?" And at that point, the beautiful blond known both as Wonder Woman and Sarah (another one of my four friends named Sarah) pops out of the soccer lockers and swoops in to save the day.
"You need a fourth for a relay? I think my name's still on the roster." And we all kind of mutually agreed that it probably couldn't make Coach any angrier.
So as senior night finally rolls around, we've got cars stuffed full of costume pieces and roll up to the bleachers just as Coach completes his final slew of announcements. As we sneak our costumes up into the press box, we run into a bunch of underclassmen who tell us Coach warned them again about wearing costumes. No sooner have we stuffed the costumes into the press box, under the bench where Taylor sits, disapproving of our choices with her eyes.
Coach sees us as we walk out. "Hey, guys!" he says, somewhat surprised. "I didn't see you at announcements!"
We exchange nervous looks. He continues. "Sarah! Good to see you again!"
"Good to see you, Coach," she mutters without meeting his eyes.
"Hey, I just wanted to remind you guys about the uniform rules. Remember--" and then he launches into a long speech, reminding us of the tyrannical rules governing high school sports that have absolutely no purpose and are not followed in college or professional track. No earrings. No necklaces. No rings. No piercings. No rolling down shorts. The kind of rules Taylor has no trouble following. He finishes by saying, "--and no costumes. Understand? This is a serious sport."
As he walks away, Sarah makes this face:
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| She makes a little noise when she does this, too, like 'nnnnnnngh' |
We return to the press box. Rekha stomps her foot and declares, "okay, I don't care what he says, we're still doing it."
Sarah looks at us. "I don't care. I'm not on the team."
"We have to do this!" I said.
Katherine bites her lip. "Yeah."
Taylor rolls her eyes. "Whatever. I'm not involved."
Two hours pass. Score sheets fly. Taylor takes note after note, scribbling down times and places. Occasionally, she asks me to help, but then I screw something up and she lets me go. Finally, the 4x400 approaches.
Rekha pulls on her Freshman Lock-in shirt that's been turned inside-out and painted with the Batman symbol. She passes the Wonder Woman tee-shirt and blue spandex shorts to Sarah. I don my jungle princess costume. Katherine dresses up like Princess Jasmine. Taylor rolls her eyes.
After a brief argument about who's going to walk out first, we descend from the press box and into the infield where Coach is waiting. I'm walking in front of everyone. Coach sees us and walks over, a frown on his face.
"Didn't I tell you guys not to do this? You're dishonoring the whole sport!"
We freeze. Coach takes another threatening step forward. I find my voice. "Coach, if we wanted to dishonor the sport, we would have quit four years ago. We're doing this to honor the sport we love."
And this was the result right here.
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