His Biggest Fan

His Biggest Fan

“ Shoulders square, knees high, pump hard! " Kenny's coach recited each part of their race strategy as the moments ticked off till the starting gun. “ Remember--don't run to the finish line, run through the finish line! " Kenny heard every word from Coach Fisher, but he was having trouble staying focused. He tried to tell himself to concentrate. After all, this was the finals! It was the most important race of the year, the one he'd worked so hard to qualify for. It was an honor just to be here to represent his school against the very best in the state. He had to do well.

Kenny's mind was somewhere else, though. He sat on the infield, pulling the toes of his track shoes to stretch out his calf muscles. Kenny was surrounded by all of his teammates, by race officials and assistants, and by the fans up in the stands. Still, Kenny felt alone.

Kenny thought back to the argument he'd had with his dad the night before. His dad had been giving him advice, as usual. “ Get plenty of sleep, " his dad had said. “ Eat light in the morning. Run two laps and three sprints before the race. " Kenny knew his dad meant well. He's just trying to help, Kenny told himself. He tried to be patient, but then his dad asked the question Kenny didn't want to answer. “ What time's your race?"

" Uh, I'm not sure, " Kenny lied. " Not sure?" his dad asked. " Then how are you going to be on time?" " Oh, I, uh . . . I'm going on the bus, " Kenny said. " They'll get me there okay. " " Well, actually, Kenny, " his dad explained, " I wanted to know about your race time so I can get there. "

Kenny's heart sank. This was the discussion he didn't want to have. He paused for a moment. " Uh, Dad?" Kenny began. “ Do you have to go?" Now it was his dad's turn to hesitate. " Well, " his dad said slowly, “ it's not that I have to. It's that I want to. "