Lukes Confessions: Which one is faster? The blue or the orange? I could tell by the slightly disarmed look of the attendant he was not accustomed to such inquisitiveness, causing him to fumble with his words a little and conclude with Theyre both about the same. The others lining up all seemed equally unprepared for my sudden intrusion of their otherwise quiet atmosphere. I made to chat amicably with the young man again, however I could see he was not used to a stranger attempting to spark up conversation whist he worked. Aware of this I didnt push too much more. Once others were given the go-ahead, they were off in an element of competitiveness I wasnt prepared for, owing this to my expectations of enjoying the session alone. By the time our turn came up, my self endorsed competitor and I took to our positions. He may have been wanting to race someone he knew, however an air of disappointment came over his demeanour at the realisation he would be going down without the familiarity of one of his comrades. I am not necessarily of the competitive persuasion, or so I like to convince myself of; what with the arrogance success can produce and the small minded assumptions that anyone is better than another simply because of a talent or a God given ability. True there is pride in the longevity of learning a skill to perfection, which should be appreciated and esteemed, but only if attributed with humility and the knowledge ones abilities can come and go with age. The same goes for beauty- its finite and fleeting reality for some reason still persuades others of its importance. I for one have never donned such attributes, therefore will not miss the power wielded through their so called importance when older. Despite my self awareness in these areas of the human psyche, still something arises in me when moments like this come upon me- a competitive nature long suppressed through my own pride and false humility perhaps? Whatever the cause, I looked to my competitor, a warm smile surrounding my words as I say- Im so going to beat you! Seeing he would not be competing against his friends, I wanted to assure him, there would still be a battle, his face alerting to the fondness of the way the sentence was delivered as a reciprocal smirk was shot back at me. We grabbed hold of the rails, awaiting our nod from the attendant to begin. He sitting, while I crouched, eager to use my mid thirties weight to my advantage by propelling myself to speed within the first few seconds of our decent, I figured with this and a good posture I was sure to make the victory my own. Other than this we were equal in most ways, adorned in shorts and rash vests making for a fair battle. The seconds seemed to go on and on, I kept a careful eye on the young attendant, who not being able to look me in the eye, pretended to be interested elsewhere, however with the blurt from his radio, an Ok followed by a firm nod, I hoisted myself up and flung myself down with all grace into the abyss of tunnel, heeding not how my opponent begun his own descent. I assumed this was reciprocated. Off to a good start I knew the win would come with the stance, I lifted myself up with my heals, arched my shoulders back, using the blades as instruments of intense speed. The darkness gave way to coloured flashing segments, intriguing me as I made my way further and further down. I eventually gained momentum, the rush of the tunnel giving thrill to my sensors while allowing myself to enjoy my time a little. The last leg came with a quick drop before I came rushing out into the pool, before quickly gazing around for my opponents exit from the corresponding tunnel. There seemed to be no exit of his tunnel however, my eyes darted around in earnest to find its location. There was none that I could see however, so I made haste to the pools edge lest he appear from no where and claim victory for himself. Sure enough as making my way out, there he appeared in the next pool (I formerly was blind to) well and truly confirming his defeat. I knew without a doubt I had done it, I allowed him to catch up with me before we made it do the doorway of the centre. With an element of smugness, albeit manufactured, I proclaimed See, I told you Id win. and made my way back inside, leaving the twelve year old in his place, knowing where he stood in the competitive world of waterslide racing. I couldnt help but wonder what his thoughts were? Did he wonder who that dreadlocked man was? Would the stranger race again? But this man doesnt repeat victories, there would be no racing again that day. Let the rumours spread, let them wonder, let them hope to compete with the mysterious man in their bleak and dismal futures! I cared not to display my talents in such away again. I knew who was the best, and so did they. Exert from Luke Greaves book Confessions of a Waterslide Warrior Chapter 15 Smashing the Twelve Year Old published on Facebook July 12 2014
Posted on: Sat, 12 Jul 2014 01:33:03 +0000