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A new Opportunity
M anny and Anthony hauled their football equipment into the big storage area behind the middle school gym. The coaches were packing the stuff away after a successful season.
Assistant coach Lou Alvaro took Manny’s helmet and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, Ramos. I’m starting a new program that’s perfect for you.” He handed Manny a photocopied sheet of paper:
HUDSON CITY CHARGERS
Youth Track and Field Club
Practice starts December I at the high school
track.
-Indoor meets in winter
-Outdoor meets in spring and summer
-Road races year-round
Coach Lou Alvaro
“That sounds awesome,” Manny said.
“Yeah,” Anthony said, grabbing a corner of the paper and reading. “I’m definitely up for that.”
“You could throw the shot put,” Manny said.
Anthony frowned. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “but I could run, too. I ain’t that fast, but I lost twelve pounds during football season. If I drop a few more I’ll be chasing you around.”
Anthony Martin was the biggest kid in sixth grade and towered over Manny, who was barely five feet tall. He’d been a starting football lineman on both the offense and defense. Manny had mostly played on the kickoff squad.
“I love racing,” Manny said. “Where are the indoor meets? Our gym is too small, isn’t it?”
“Mostly in New York City,” Coach Alvaro said. The young coach was tall and lanky. He worked with the receivers during football season. Some days he would run wind sprints with the team, and he always outran everybody.
“The New York Armory Track and Field Center has one of the best indoor tracks in the country,” Coach said. “And they have a ton of meets. We’ll compete there three or four times this winter, plus a few meets in Jersey City and at some of the colleges.”
Manny had been one of the fastest kids on the football team. And when they ran long distances—like five laps around the field—he always finished ahead of everybody else.
“I’ll probably run the mile,” he said.
“That’s what I figured,” Coach Alvaro said. “And Anthony, you can run whatever event you want. I don’t care how fast you are. I want people who are ready to work hard and have fun.”
“That’s me,” Anthony said. He grabbed Manny under the arms and lifted him into the air. “Is there a Manny throw, Coach? I could toss this guy about fifty feet.”
Coach laughed. “No, but Manny’s right. You’d be a great shot putter. You can run, too.”
Manny tried to wriggle free from Anthony’s grip. “Can you put me down now?”
Anthony set Manny down and grinned broadly. His chubby brown cheeks seemed to glow. “We should start running today,” Anthony said. “Want to go to the track?”
“Yeah,” Manny said. “In about an hour. I gotta stop at home first.”
“Me, too,” Anthony said. “And I need something from my locker.”
Manny carefully folded the paper into neat quarters and tucked it into his shirt pocket. The boys walked through the gym toward the school’s sixth-grade wing.
“I am so psyched,” Manny said. “I love to race. It’s like pure effort, you know?”
“I can imagine,” Anthony said. “Like sacking a quarterback or something.”
They turned the corner in the hallway and Anthony stopped walking. “What’s that?” he said, pointing to his locker.
A small piece of paper was taped to Anthony’s locker. It said, ANTHONY: THE HAPPY HIPPO in red letters.
“That is so stupid,” Manny said. He walked over and tore the paper from the locker. “What, are we in kindergarten?”
Anthony shook his head. “Jerks,” he said softly. He opened his locker and took out his math book.
“So stupid,” Manny said again.
“Forget it. I’ve been hearing crap like that since I was born.”
“Yeah, but that’s so pathetic,” Manny said. “A sign on your locker?”
“You think they’d say it to my face?” Anthony raised his eyebrows and made a fist. “I don’t think
A new Opportunity
M anny and Anthony hauled their football equipment into the big storage area behind the middle school gym. The coaches were packing the stuff away after a successful season.
Assistant coach Lou Alvaro took Manny’s helmet and said, “I’ve been waiting for you, Ramos. I’m starting a new program that’s perfect for you.” He handed Manny a photocopied sheet of paper:
HUDSON CITY CHARGERS
Youth Track and Field Club
Practice starts December I at the high school
track.
-Indoor meets in winter
-Outdoor meets in spring and summer
-Road races year-round
Coach Lou Alvaro
“That sounds awesome,” Manny said.
“Yeah,” Anthony said, grabbing a corner of the paper and reading. “I’m definitely up for that.”
“You could throw the shot put,” Manny said.
Anthony frowned. “Yeah,” he said slowly, “but I could run, too. I ain’t that fast, but I lost twelve pounds during football season. If I drop a few more I’ll be chasing you around.”
Anthony Martin was the biggest kid in sixth grade and towered over Manny, who was barely five feet tall. He’d been a starting football lineman on both the offense and defense. Manny had mostly played on the kickoff squad.
“I love racing,” Manny said. “Where are the indoor meets? Our gym is too small, isn’t it?”
“Mostly in New York City,” Coach Alvaro said. The young coach was tall and lanky. He worked with the receivers during football season. Some days he would run wind sprints with the team, and he always outran everybody.
“The New York Armory Track and Field Center has one of the best indoor tracks in the country,” Coach said. “And they have a ton of meets. We’ll compete there three or four times this winter, plus a few meets in Jersey City and at some of the colleges.”
Manny had been one of the fastest kids on the football team. And when they ran long distances—like five laps around the field—he always finished ahead of everybody else.
“I’ll probably run the mile,” he said.
“That’s what I figured,” Coach Alvaro said. “And Anthony, you can run whatever event you want. I don’t care how fast you are. I want people who are ready to work hard and have fun.”
“That’s me,” Anthony said. He grabbed Manny under the arms and lifted him into the air. “Is there a Manny throw, Coach? I could toss this guy about fifty feet.”
Coach laughed. “No, but Manny’s right. You’d be a great shot putter. You can run, too.”
Manny tried to wriggle free from Anthony’s grip. “Can you put me down now?”
Anthony set Manny down and grinned broadly. His chubby brown cheeks seemed to glow. “We should start running today,” Anthony said. “Want to go to the track?”
“Yeah,” Manny said. “In about an hour. I gotta stop at home first.”
“Me, too,” Anthony said. “And I need something from my locker.”
Manny carefully folded the paper into neat quarters and tucked it into his shirt pocket. The boys walked through the gym toward the school’s sixth-grade wing.
“I am so psyched,” Manny said. “I love to race. It’s like pure effort, you know?”
“I can imagine,” Anthony said. “Like sacking a quarterback or something.”
They turned the corner in the hallway and Anthony stopped walking. “What’s that?” he said, pointing to his locker.
A small piece of paper was taped to Anthony’s locker. It said, ANTHONY: THE HAPPY HIPPO in red letters.
“That is so stupid,” Manny said. He walked over and tore the paper from the locker. “What, are we in kindergarten?”
Anthony shook his head. “Jerks,” he said softly. He opened his locker and took out his math book.
“So stupid,” Manny said again.
“Forget it. I’ve been hearing crap like that since I was born.”
“Yeah, but that’s so pathetic,” Manny said. “A sign on your locker?”
“You think they’d say it to my face?” Anthony raised his eyebrows and made a fist. “I don’t think
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