Chapter 6

Because of its small size, the school could only afford specialist coaches for the footballers and basketballers. The rest of the sports staff had to plug the gaps as best they could. Sometimes they couldn’t. The school didn’t have a baseball team and my parents paid for Terri to get gymnastics lessons in town.

Coach Budd had drawn the short straw for running the school cross-country team. An older man, nearing the end of his career, he nevertheless put in a good shift and had earned my respect.

With the race on Sunday, Tuesday evening was for practice and selection. Cross-country teams consisted of six runners, with only the top four counting towards the team score. Coach Budd usually took seven runners to the venue in case one of the selected six had a problem while warming up.

Only ten candidates turned up for the team session because the team was pretty settled at this point in the season. After a thorough warm-up, Coach Budd had us on the 400 metres running track, alternating between sprinting at top speed down the straights with a more measured pace round the bends. I knew I’d come last because I didn’t have a fast sprint but, after my vigorous run the evening before, I was heavy-legged and trailing a disappointing distance behind the ninth placed runner when Coach Budd called a halt.

Coach Budd called me over. “Something wrong, Randell? You seem out of sorts.”

“Sorry Coach, I went for a run last night and overdid it.”

“Hrmph,” grunted Coach Budd inscrutably. He scribbled away on his clipboard while we waited expectantly. Finally he reached a decision and read out his team selection. The first four names were the runners who filled the first four places during the trial. The fifth name was the runner who was in sixth place, Tom Dickerson, the team captain. “And Randell,” Coach Budd concluded, “with Baylee the travelling reserve.”

“That’s a fucking joke,” said Corwin Baylee in a loud whisper. “I finished fifth, well ahead of Randell. He’s only been picked because he’s gay.”

“Do you have something to say, Baylee?” asked Coach Budd. “Come on, I’m sure we’d all like to benefit from your words of wisdom.”

I suspected Coach Budd had heard every word.

“No sir,” said Corwin Baylee, “just trying to get my breath back.”

Coach Budd gave Baylee a long hard stare. “We’ll have another meeting Thursday evening to go over the course details and tactics. I’d like all of you to turn up, even those who won’t be competing, because I have some team exercises for you to try out. That’s all, you can shower and change now.”

After I had showered and changed, I noticed Coach Budd had Corwin Baylee in his office. He didn’t seem to be happy although I couldn’t hear what he was saying. When Corwin Baylee came out, he gave me a hostile glare.

I knocked on Coach Budd’s door.

“Yes, what do you want?” he snapped.

“I’m prepared to step down if it helps team morale,” I offered. “I know I messed up the trial today.”

Coach Budd’s demeanour softened. “Randell, sexual orientation is irrelevant to my team selections. People can screw goats if they want so long as it doesn’t impact the team. As I’ve just explained to Baylee, I was always going to pick you because you’re a team player and a solid performer. The course on Sunday will suit you because it’s very tough. You may have been lagging the others today but when I called a halt the other runners were all struggling whereas you looked as though you were capable of going again. That sort of stamina will be a huge asset.”

“Okay. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Coach.”

“I told Baylee what he had to do to get selected in the future and he agree to try and be more of a team player. Let me know if you get any afters from him.”

“Will do.”

I wouldn’t have been surprised to find Corwin Baylee lying in wait for me as I left school, but instead I was intercepted by a girl. I recognised Maria D’Angelou as being from my year but I couldn’t remember ever speaking to her.