Long Jump

As a pre- teen growing up at the edge of the city, the huge Golden Gate Park two blocks distant, the ocean even nearer, and miles of raw sand dunes to occupy my time, I was a city boy who more or less lived rurally. I participated as well in every fad and sport season as each came along. Also, the vice principal was a woman who would have made an excellent coach. Our school teams did well consistently.


So, when track season came around, I was out there. Not very big, nor particularly strong. but way up there in the Day Dream Division.


I wasn’t very fast. When, in tryouts, I was in the middle of the pack, I promptly switched to a field event. The school not having javelins, poles for vaulting, or steel balls for putting, it sort of left the jumps. We had no crossbar, nor hurdles. I pondered the skimpy opportunities and at last saw that I really could be an Olympian. I could long jump.

A sports writer for the Cal-Bulletin, which I delivered, had written a long article describing in detail the style of the contemporary U.S.C. star. I read it several times over. Yes, and there was a perfect practice place. Along the uphill wall of the school, by the kindergarten classes, was a strip of sand about four feet wide. I could run along the fence, past the gate, and take off in the Trojan’s form. If I smoothed the sand first, I could measure where my feet first touched.


About ten yards from the sand, I went over and over the article: the hopppity start, the speed-up, the slight crouch a stride before the take-off , and the lean to one side to get one’s feet out of line with the body. I nodded to myself in approval, then went into action.


I’m sure I did it all fairly well. At least it felt right.


What I had overlooked was that, in leaning to one side, my right arm extended outside the four feet width of sand. The sidewalk tore up my arm.


When I got home, my mother said sharply, "WHATEVER DID YOU DO TO YOURSELF?"


"I fell," I told her.


"Off the school roof?" she asked, probably not expecting any real answer.


"Not quite," I said.