Once Upon a Time in the Vest

Monday, October 30, 2023

V 13 N. 104 "How Coach Helped His Runner Get Off the Starting Line by Putting a Knife to Her Throat" by Paul O'Shea

Sometimes a writer has to create a title to draw readers into his/her lair.  I'm thinking of Jules Verne's titanic book of baseball history,  "Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea" for example.  And wasn't  it Sigmund Freud who wrote "A Midsummer Night's Dream"?   For a few other suggestions go to end of this post.   Apologies Paul,  it was late and I was tripping.  George


How Coach Helped His Runner Get Off the Starting Line

By Putting a Knife To Her Throat

By Paul O’Shea (Marquette U.)


You know the old adage: those who can’t play a sport, coach.

As a runner, sports journalist, administrator and meet official, I’ve

watched thousands of youngsters chase each other over grass, track and trail.

One lovely September afternoon years ago, when I began coaching a high

school girls cross country team, I was confident I knew the rules.

My Oak Knoll Royals were gathered at the starting line for their first

race of the season in my first race as their coach.

As the runners moved up to the starting line I heard the meet director

shout: “No hats, no watches, no jewelry.”

Fine. Nothing my girls wore threatened their competitors, I thought.

But as the other teams began discarding some offending items, one of my

runners pointed anxiously to the tightly knotted cord around her neck.

“Like you, over there,” the meet official thundered.

He peered at my Lauren.

“What’s that on your neck? Get it off.”

Lauren, an otherwise law-abiding daughter from a fine family,

probably taking four AP courses, volunteering at the local Senior Center,

teaching English as a second language, and a boon companion to her dog,

had around her neck, a forbidden item, a waxed leather necklace.

In New Jersey, where politicians are notable for their notoriety, my

duplicitous fifteen-year-old will commit a felony by starting the cross

country race with that performance-enhancing device.

Panic cauterized Coach’s heart.


I rush to the starting line to remove the offending item, but my

fumbling fingers fail the challenge. Earlier, at home, Lauren decided she

would look even more chic if she trimmed the edges of the knot, improving

her model-like fuselage.

So, as the warm afternoon lingers, the novice coach attempts to loosen

the leather decoration. Now, he looks as if he himself had just journeyed five

thousand meters. He can’t get the bloody thing unknotted.

Looking on are 145 runners, their coaches, family members and

friends, transfixed.

“Anyone have a knife?”

After a few tense moments a Swiss Army knife is found.

Coach very, very carefully slips the blade between Lauren’s slippery,

pulsing neck and the proscribed jewelry. As the knife edges forward, the

athlete stands still as she wisely determines her life may depend on it.

Finally, standing watch, Lauren’s father applauds as I slice through the cord.

She’s ready to start, the gun fires.

A few minutes later we chase twenty teams of teenagers around the

course as Oak Knoll wins the Newark Academy Invitational with 41 points.

Lauren is one of our scoring top five, playing a key role in the victory.

Sadly, Lauren and Coach lost touch over the years. Thinking back to

her work ethic on and off the cross country course, I can well imagine that

today she is a tenured professor of law at Berkeley, summers in Montreaux,

and is long-listed for the Booker. And all because Coach was steady in a

pinch.

My entry into the coaching corps began after I retired.

That summer of ’97, I began to think I could have a new way to keep close

to the sport I treasured for decades. I knew Oak Knoll School in Summit,


New Jersey had once fielded track and cross country teams, but they fell

away as interest dwindled. I visited the school’s athletic director, and said I

would be interested in resurrecting the sport. Sure, he said, as long as you

can persuade seven girls to join up. We did better than that. We brought

fifteen girls and one rookie coach together.

One thing I learned from coaching a cross country team for the first

time is that you don’t have to master a handbook of obscure rules. The

sport’s pretty basic.

Your girls walk up to the starting line, you caution them not to start

before the gun sounds, and please make their way around without

threatening to sue the girl running next to them because she planted an

elbow in the ribs. The athlete who detours the course as if she were bee

lining to the last supermarket parking space, will not amuse the crusty folks

who manage the race. Running the full distance is not only sporting, it’s

preferred. Finally, cross the finish line, maintaining your poise, ideally

without crawling on all fours. Before the race, remind your team to relish

the personal fulfillment that comes from completing the task with honor.

Because the ability to perform well depends on accumulating

substantial physical and mental strength, much of the training involves

running miles. The coach’s art is mixing the right ingredients of mileage,

speed, repetitions and terrain.

Cross country scoring is simple. The first five on the team count, and

you add up their finishing places. Like golf, low score wins. A perfect score

in golf would be an improbable 18, a hole-in-one every tee shot. A perfect

cross country score is 15, which recognizes that your team’s scoring five

finished in the first five positions. That achievement happens infrequently,

but once Oak Knoll was perfect in one dual meet against a traditional rival.


There were any number of sad, funny, tense and elegiac moments

during my coaching career.

I remember the day when one of my backbenchers—the lesser

performing lasses-- was running along in a race at Newark’s Warinanco

Park. A girl from another team passed her, gave her an elbow. My harrier

decided she’d had enough, stopped running, and cried. No coach’s rulebook

prepares you for this.

To underscore the limited power of the coach over his independent

charges, one of my runners was advised before starting her warm up, to lasso

that unencumbered shoelace so a mishap might be avoided. Megan

sincerely believed she’d get to it in due course, or was she remembering the

time she and her teammates played strip poker with a group of boy runners

at a summer running camp? Her mind on other things, perhaps, this race day

she turned an ankle in her warm-up and was listed on the results sheet as

DNS. Did-Not-Start. Later that season she paid closer attention to her

Nikes, and broke the finishing tape as conference champion.

One of our goals was for Oak Knoll to qualify for the Meet of

Champions in November at Holmdel Park, the Carnegie Hall of the state

cross country landscape. That would have placed us among the top twenty

or so teams in New Jersey, but we were never able to qualify. I did have

several individual runners who were outstanding: one qualified for the Meet

of Champions as a freshman.

They, in turn, mostly felt that cross-country would be an entry on their

high school resume. They were well away from those athletes who wanted

to establish themselves through the sport, or even earn a college scholarship

from running.


The school’s better athletes went out for soccer in the fall. We made

do with some dozen girls each year including a couple of “transfers” from

soccer and field hockey when they were downsized. But no one gets booted

off a cross-country team, even if we had to wait until dark for a girl to finish

a workout.

Cross country is a sport with great returns for those who train and

compete. You get rewarded based on your own contribution, and the team

gets rewarded as well. You don’t worry if the coach will put you in the

game, there’s no bench in cross country, everybody’s on team. You don’t

need to be fast, just committed. The honors and medals go to the strong, the

resolute. A good coach can help you get to your own finish line, a winner.

The sport began formally in England in the early nineteen hundreds

and is well titled. Runners traverse the land, usually on grass, or trails, in

parks or campuses. Often with hills to provide additional tests. I loved

coaching cross country.

Most of us enjoy the movies, and if you happen to like classic films as

I do, perhaps you remember what I think of as the best ballet movie of all

time, The Red Shoes.

In that film there’s a very romantic scene with a young couple in the

back of a horse-drawn carriage on the shores of the French Riviera. The

moon sparkles on the water, the carriage moves slowly along the road, their

heads become one. He turns to her and whispers: Will we ever be as happy

as this again in our lives?

Flash forward to a real life transportation scene in the late 1990s.

A school van maintains pace with traffic on New Jersey’s Garden

State Parkway. In the back a dozen Oak Knoll girls are singing Madonna’s

Like a Prayer, at the top of their lungs.


Not the school’s alma mater, to be sure, but the team’s theme song.

Holy Madonna, they’re on their way to a cross country meet.

They’re fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old, intelligent, pretty and fit.

Will they ever be as happy as this again in their lives?

Of course they will. They’re young women of promise, on their way

to spectacular achievement.

September, 2020


1.  "I Can Run With My Eyes Shut"  by Dr. Seuss     or was it "Read With My Eyes Shut"?

1. "Sadomasochism for Accountants"    by Rosy Barnes    could easily have been written for Runners.

3. "The Rape of the Lock"  Alexander Pope    I never understood this title and Miss Hagan my soph English teacher would not let me read it. 

4. "Unbearable Lightness of Being" by Milan Kundera   A perfect title for a book on running.

5. "Your Feet Are Killing You" by Dr. Simon Wikler (1912)  a man ahead of his time.

6. "Theory of Lengthwise Rolling"  by Nikitin, Tselikov, and Rokotyan.   Supposedly Vladmir Kuts was into this.  





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