CHAPTER ELEVEN
“You need to step back, miss.” An official stops in front of me using his arms to create a wide berth around him. “We’re trying to maintain at least ten feet from the finish line as a safety buffer.”
Safety buffer?
Safety buffer? I hate when they use words like safety and buffer. Sure we all know being an athlete comes with the possibility of injury, especially in eventswith high accident rates like the snowboard cross. The exact event Knox is to run in about two minutes. I don’t need them to remind me.
Although this comment irritates me, it’s exactly the reason I’m at the bottom of the hill and not at the top where the spectator seats are. If anything happens to Knox, he has to come down the mountain. It’s where he’ll end up if he wins, finishes without anincident, or doesn’t finish because he’s been taken out on a stretcher. This area is the worst place to watch the race from, view-wise, but the best location to get somewhere quickly when this is over.
The snowboard cross is not a long, ongoing event. There aren’t a bunch of different trials or a bracket system. All the snowboarders line up at the top and race down the same course. One race,one win, that’s all it is. The women raced earlier and the men this afternoon. Both groups get a time trial in the morning that helps decide the placement of the starting line for the official race. Knox finished well, but not the best. His placement is in the middle of the pack. He’ll have to fight his way up at least two spots to win and break away from the group.
The middle is where most peoplehave collisions. It’s not like this is a synchronized event, it’s an all-out free-for-all. I step back a few more feet and turn my body slightly so the finish line is in sight. It’s also the perfect place to watch the race on the large television screen they’ve placed to the left of where I stand.
Loud cheering from the stands on top of the hill seeps down to where I wait. On the television screen,a cameraman zooms in on the athletes making their way to the starting block. The eight racers line up in a straight row. Each getting into their starting stance. Some lean far back and get ready for a big push off. But Knox stands straight and tall, ready to meet his fate.
It happens quickly.
Once the racers are in position and ready to go, the presenter starts the countdown.
Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
The starting buzz sounds and the race begins. The gates fly open. The racers are off right out of the start and are met with three small hills. The first snowboarders battle for position early. Knox pulls ahead a half a snowboard length from the rest the crowd. The first main obstacle, a huge ramp, is directly after the three small hills. He hits the top, pulls his knees andjumps. This isn’t the time for tricks or looking cool. They need to use the space to garner position. It’s not about being pretty. It’s about speed and time. His body twists a fraction in the air to brace making contact with the ground and he comes out at the same time as the Canadian snowboarder. Knox’s board inches behind.
Three fast turns curve the track. The group of snowboarders lean inand make the turn. They veer to the right and my body leans with them.
Each and every racer on the track twists as they move themselves left. Knox pulls ahead of the Canadian, but not by much.
I crouch down. It’s easier to watch the race and deal with the suspense when I’m closer to the ground. “Come on. Come on, Knox,” I chant quietly to myself.
There are two ramps ahead. Knox makes it overthe first, clears the distance between, and hits the top of the second ramp hard. He’s finally making some distance away from the pack of snowboarders. Normally by now they’d have fanned out to give themselves space, but this group seems ready to go head to head the entire time. It makes the conditions extra dangerous. At any time one of them could trip or stumble and take out the entire pack.
Knox has two snowboarders on his tail, the Canadian and an athlete from Norway. He hits a series of hills before they do, but not by enough time. John, the Canadian, loses his balance. With his legs wobbling, he flails his arms out and hits Knox directly in the chest. He falls back on his board taking Knox with him.
“Oh my God. No!” I shove my mitten over my mouth and suck in the material, breathingthrough it. My stomach clenches as I attempt not to puke.
Knox slides on his butt trying to regain control of his board and get his balance back. His body contorts as the Canadian continues to slip further off the track taking out another snowboarder with him.
He struggles, going over a small hill with his body bent at the waist in some horrifying angle. At the bottom half of the last hill Knoxgains control and stands up on his board.
“Oh my God!” I stand to see the race on the big screen better.
Knox descends a steep slope the racers use to gain momentum at the end of the track. He gains speed going faster and faster until the cameras have trouble staying on him and are forced to pan out. There’s a huge jump at the end of the track. Knox hits hard, bending his knees. He looks tohis left and right checking for other competitors. His board hits the ground inches in front of the finish line so hard I swear I feel the shake from where I stand. Knox slides across the finish line with the snowboarder from Norway.
As soon as he crosses, I immediately run to the end of the track. Knox falls on his back, slipping a few more inches. When he stops I run and jump on top of him,crushing him to the ground. He pushes his snow goggles off his face and I kiss him long and dirty.
“You did it!” Knox is going to go home with a gold medal.
This race isn’t about tricks or losing or gaining points. It’s the first person across the finish line. The winner takes all and one time is all they get. I grab onto his shoulders and shake him back and forth, my grip so tight I might riphis expensive snow suit.
“Was it me or Norway?” Overcoming his excitement, he screams the question in my face.
