It’s a few boy with massive desires, able to defy his father’s needs, and make it huge within the high-stakes world of sports activities. ‘The Prodigal Sprinter’ is a few younger athlete who dares to defy expectations and makes his personal path on the planet of sports activities by following his love for Sprinting.However as he sprints in the direction of glory, he should additionally not overlook his previous, not give in to the pressures of the current, and the uncertainty of his future.
Right here we current an excerpt from the e-book with due permission from the writer ‘Purple Pencil Challenge‘.
Excerpt
July 2024, Paris
“ATHLETES! TO YOUR STARTING BLOCKS!”
The voice boomed over the stadium audio system, but barely audible to the athletes on the monitor over the deafening roar of the gang. The stadium pulsed to the sound of the collective chants, like an enormous beast had come to life. The stands appear to be they had been painted in a riot of colors of individuals’s clothes, the waving nationwide flags, and gigantic signal boards. Individuals of all ages, ethnicities, backgrounds, nationalities, had been out of their chairs, screaming on the high of their lungs in anticipation of what was to return within the subsequent jiffy. It felt like an epic battle scene from a superhero movie, besides that this wasn’t computer-generated or graphically programmed; it was the approaching collectively of a trifecta-human beings, feelings and uncooked lung energy.
The power was electrifying. The viewers capability of over 80,000, although important by itself, felt multiplied by many occasions with the magnitude of the collective sound they had been making. A passing spaceship could be forgiven to mistake the majestic Stade de France in Paris as a big speaker blasting on the highest quantity.
The mantra of “USA! USA!” reverberated all through the stadium, which wasn’t stunning. They had been probably the most dominant nation on monitor and discipline and had two athletes competing within the 2024 100-metre Olympic finals. Alternatively, the Jamaicans had been attempting their hardest to drown out the American chants to the musical rhythm of “JA-MAY-KA!”
The followers of every nation now took on the problem. “E-TAL-IA” faintly made its means over the din through the chanting interludes. Someplace, you possibly can make out an ever-increasing “Indiaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa… Indiaaaaaaa. Jeetega bhai Jeetega, India Jeetega,” screamed a big group of Indian athletes and the contingent sitting within the crowd.
The announcer tried once more to talk over the crowds, this time in a a lot firmer and louder voice, “ATHLETES TO YOUR STARTING BLOCKS PLEASE.” Like a musical conductor had simply waved his wand, this time the announcement appeared to have its desired impact. The chanting ceased and a collective “Sssshhhh” crammed the evening air as 80,000 mouths locked their higher and decrease enamel and set free a jet stream of air from their lungs into the gaps of their jaws and enamel. The shushing grew quieter and died down and the stadium was dropped at an unimaginably eerie silence. A couple of remoted sensible alecs screamed and whistled, however that didn’t spoil the purity of the silence because the eight athletes settled into their beginning blocks.
The seconds ticked by as every of them rested their spikes in opposition to their self-adjusted beginning blocks. Their thumbs and two fingers rested on the white line that symbolised the beginning mark. The hush was surreal with even probably the most inebriated of sports activities followers respecting the gravity of the second the finals of the 100-metre dash on the Olympic Video games of 2024. The game that introduced this event to start, 3000 years in the past.
“Get set…,” mentioned a gentle voice over the microphone as I carry my rear in near-perfect unison with the opposite athletes.
My physique weight is evenly distributed, between my ft resting on the blocks and my fingers, which wrestle to not twitch. My head is bowed down with just one thought, Do not false begin, do not you dare false begin, simply explode after you hear the gun. A solitary bead of sweat makes its means from my brow to the tip of my nostril, tickling my cheek.
