One Chance is All You Need
Tepe looked on as Tim stood at the head of the long, smooth triple-jump runway at the University of Vermont. His legs must have ached, as he reached down to massage them after the 51.7-second split he had just run in the 4 × 400 to help his relay team from Softwood High to a second-place finish at the Vermont Track and Field State Championship. Softwood High, a regional public school in Vermont's Mad River Valley, was in the thick of battle with the perennial favorite, St. Anthony Academy, a private institute in the state's Northeast Kingdom.
Tim, an outstanding soccer player, was a tenacious competitor. However, this was his first year competing in track and field. He had joined at the urging of his friends and his science teacher, Joe Tepedino, or "Tepe," as his students affectionately called him. Tepe had convinced Tim that with his strong kicking legs and quick acceleration, he would own the jumps. Tim liked the young teacher and wanted to please him. He also thought it would be cool to be part of something new. Track and field provided an alternative to baseball.
Softwood was a new school that included students from the Village of Waterbury, surrounding hills, and the Mad River Valley. Most of the baseball players and the coach were from the Village. Tim, however, lived in the Valley. Village families were mostly blue-collar and worked in construction in the surrounding area. There were also some white-collar families connected to the University of Vermont or to the Medical Center of Vermont in the state's largest city, Burlington. The Valley kids were a mixture of local farm families and out-of-state families who had turned their second homes near Sugarbush Resort into their year-round residences. The Valley had a party reputation; some village residents called it the "Bad Liver Valley."
Tim knew he would see limited playing time in baseball, if he made the cut at all. "The baseball coach is from the Village, and you live in the Valley. No matter how good you are, he will cut you," said his friend and hurdler Gary Griz. His buddies from the Valley convinced him that track was definitely a lot of fun.
"It's like a three-ring circus; there's always something going on," said BJ, his shot-putting friend.
"It's organized chaos," said Claire, a mother of one of his friends.
Tim massaged his sore hamstrings with rough hands that were still blistered and cracked from haying the previous weekend. His first jump had been a good one: forty feet, eight inches. But he would have to do much better to beat Dmitri, a Slovakian boarding student at St. A's. Dmitri held the state record of forty-two feet, ten inches and currently sat in first place with a jump of forty-two feet, four inches. The whole St. A's team was formidable, and its composition had as much variety as the United Nations. Two Bahamians and a Jamaican on their team had swept the medals in the 100-meter dash. They won the 4 × 100 relay with four boys who had come to Vermont via the St. Frances Church affiliation in the Bronx. St. A's Japanese high jumper, Kenzo Suzuki won with ease.
"Coach Tepe, you are needed at the pole vault pit!" yelled his assistant, Tom Klober. Tepe thought Klober had ADHD.
"Actually, he developed Hashimoto's thyroiditis as a kid and his thyroid was surgically removed," said Pat Boyle, one of Tepe's fellow teachers. "His metabolism is now controlled by a drug called synthroid. The same drug the vets use to treat my sister's fat golden retriever," Boyle added.
Tepe thought that Tom was overdosing himself on synthroid since he was always hopped up. Tom wore his heart on his sleeve. In addition to being physically hyped, his emotions ran on full throttle as well. There was never a dull moment when Klober was around. Softwood's vaulter, Tiger, was in a battle with a Russian immigrant from Mountain View.
Tiger had a wiry, muscular build. He was a fierce competitor, and about as tough as they come. He hailed from a family of Valley loggers and could trace his roots back six generations in the Mad River Valley of Vermont. Tiger got his name after his first appointment with Dr. Fran, the Valley pediatrician, when he was just a baby. The doctor listened through a stethoscope and heard the beating of a very strong heart. He turned to Tiger's mother and said, "It sounds like there is a tiger in there." From then on, young Andrew Baird was known as Tiger. Tiger had the loudest, most explosive laugh that Tepe had ever heard, although Tepe was just getting to know Tiger.
In track and field language, Tiger was a horse, the word that track coaches used to describe multi-talented athletes. Due to his fierce competitiveness, strength, speed, and agility, he could gain valuable points in almost any event. Tiger would also be hurdling and running a leg on the 4x800 relay later in the afternoon. Softwood did not have a running track at their school, let alone a pole-vaulting pit. However, the lack of the proper facilities did not stop the tenacious athlete. Tiger and his teammates dug out an area near the baseball field and Tiger trucked in sawdust from his grandfather's saw mill, which was located five miles from Softwood high on the Mill Brook, a tributary of the Mad River. The sawdust was soft, and it worked well as a landing pit. However, after the first heavy rain, it took on the consistency of cement. Tepe, a high school pole-vaulter himself, was trying to teach Tiger to invert his body while high on the pole and drop backward into the pit. Tiger was struggling to land on his back. The young coach was getting frustrated.
"Why won't you land on your back?" yelled Tepe.
Tiger snapped back, "Cause it fuckin' hurts!"
Alexi, the young Russian pole vaulter who was attending Mountain View and Tiger had both cleared thirteen feet. Alexi missed on all three attempts at thirteen feet, six inches. Tiger had missed his first two at that height and had one attempt left.
Tepe turned to Klober. "Why did you call me over, here?" he asked.
"Something is bothering Tiger. You need to talk to him," said Klober.
Tepe approached Tiger. "Wow, Tiger you just set a school record. Why are you so down?" Tepe had Tiger in class, and knew that the kid was extremely aware of the needs of others. He was always helping the other kids set up their experiments. He was as kind as he was fierce.
"I think I can get this height, coach, but I don't want to beat this kid!" said Tiger.
"Why not?" asked Tepe.
Tiger went on to explain that he heard from the other Mountain View kids that Alexi's family had escaped Russia just six months earlier. Alexi's dad had been poisoned by the KGB and his grandparents were able to get him out of Russia, but his mother had been left behind.
"I know it is a tough situation. But you have learned as an athlete to always give your best. If you are not giving your best, you are disrespecting your competitors. Besides, this kid is only a sophomore. Go out and give him a mark to shoot for his next two years," said Tepe.
Tiger grabbed his pole, charged down the runway, and absolutely flew over the crossbar. The official noted it was a new Vermont state record. Tiger went over and consoled Alexi.
"Hopefully you can top this height next year," said Tiger. The two vaulters embraced in a Russian bear hug. As Tiger walked away, Tepe could see tears running down Tiger's cheeks.
Meanwhile, at the triple-jump pit . . .
Tim turned his face to the hot June sun and wiped the sweat from his brow. The rectus muscles in his quads simultaneously contracted and he burst down the long runway. He hit the toe board with lightning speed.
"Forty-two-five!" yelled the official.
The crowd of spectators erupted in cheers, as that jump moved Tim into first place.
Meanwhile, out on the track, Softwood High was having an incredible day. In addition to Tiger's first place in the pole vault, they were picking up soft places: thirds, fourths, and fifths in the high hurdles, low sticks, 200-meter dash, and 1500-meter run.
A St. Anthony runner won the 1500, but the victory turned out to be bittersweet for their team. Gregory Stiles, St. Anthony's star distance runner, had been in a fierce battle with Shawn Smith, a powerful middle-distance runner from Mountain View High. Gregory had quickly taken the lead in the race, with Shawn battling him on every turn. "They were like gladiators in the coliseum," Greg's dad would later say. The older Stiles, also named Gregory, was the distance coach for St. Anthony. He was very proud of his son, the first Vermont schoolboy to break the four-minute barrier in the 1500.
As they had rounded the last turn, Shawn had overtaken the St. Anthony distance star. Gregory had battled back, fighting harder than he ever had. He had a lot of pride on the line. He had nipped Smith at the tape for a photo-finish victory. The St. Anthony crowd had been ecstatic, but it was short-lived. Gregory had collapsed at the finish. EMTs were called to the scene. The hot sun and humid air had taken its toll, as Gregory was suffering from hyperthermia.
Gregory was brought out on a...
