MT PLEASANT GRAD (1974) REMEMBERS HIS RUNNING DAYS

I was an average runner in the early 1970s at Mt. Pleasant. Although I demonstrated potential in the 880 in 10th grade (and was part of my school’s state meet 2-mile relay team), I definitely lacked focus and grit through the remainder of my high school running days (cross country and indoor track). The injury bug knocked the wind out of me each spring after my sophmore year, but still I mostly enjoyed participating in sports where the clock and a measuring tape were the barometers by which I could compare myself with others at my school and beyond.

I’d been a benchwarmer on an undefeated junior high JV basketball team – but the frustration of rarely entering a game even when the lead was huge soured me on trying out again for such structured sports teams. Instead, I gravitated toward the relative individual freedom of cross country and track. Of course, those were team sports, too, with their own concepts of team unity and participation. XC and track really offered the best of two worlds: being part of a team, but also competing as an individual.

Looking back, I have occasionally wondered why I did not try harder to improve as a runner. Never mind the injuries. I don’t think the fire was always there, anyway, but the experiences nonetheless were precious. I later moved on to road races and marathons, and I see my high school running as a positive stepping stone to those endeavors.

As I write this, the 30th anniversary of my high school graduation looms (1974). Milestones tend to make one reflective, and I’d like to share four stories here that come to mind. They’re not anecdotes about great achievements. In fact, they were anything but funny at the time, but now I see them in a different light, and with a smile on my face.

Recollection #1: November 10, 1971: Delaware High School Cross Country Championship

Athletic claims to fame often include broken records. My claim to fame (or shame?) is just a broken trophy.

To whichever team it was – either Newark (Div I) or Dover Air (Div II) – I offer my humble apologies for slightly tarnishing your moment of glory at the 1971 State Cross Country Championship. I SWEAR I didn’t break your trophy on purpose! I trust that in your middle age (the seniors on those teams should surpass the half-century mark this year), you have it in your hearts to wipe the slate clean and forgive me for my clumsy ways long ago.

I was a sophmore and wasn’t running in the State Meet. Instead, I assisted my coach, John Crowther, the Meet Director, as he oversaw the afternoon’s events at Polly Drummond. Coach C sent me to retrieve the two massive (to me) team championship trophies (Divs I and II) from the back seat of his car, where they sat side-by-side in a cardboard box. They must have been nearly four feet tall. As I was sliding the box out of the car, one of the trophies caught the top of the door and snapped off just below the feet of the victorious runner, arms raised, which capped the award.

I’m almost positive it was Newark’s trophy that I busted.

I had no choice but to deliver the trophies to Coach Crowther in front of everybody: coaches, runners, parents, cheerleaders, and other supporters. Center stage among those gathered were the two winning teams, flush with victory and anticipating the recognition for their championships. I hemmed and hawed my way through a lame explanation. I particularly recall the disgust of a couple of runners from Newark or Dover Air: all their hard work had paid off with a great team win, but now this insult! I wasn't exactly thrilled, either.

I suppose Coach C just shook his head a few times and cursed under his breath. By nature he was not a demonstrative man, preferring to keep his emotions in check. He never treated me badly after that, even though I'd caused him some embarrassment and annoyance at "his" meet. Sorry ‘bout that, Coach. Hope you forgave / forgive me, too. (Or DID you get even, two years later, when you wrapped my ankles? See the “Tale of the Tape” story, further below.)


Recollection #2: April 26, 1972: John Greenplate and/or Jim Bray seek vengeance for the broken trophy?

Early in the spring track season in 1972, Mt. Pleasant visited Newark for a dual meet. I was entered in the mile, in the same race as one, if not both, of Newark’s brilliant stars: the eventual state 2-mile champ, John Greenplate, and state mile champ-to-be, Jim Bray. (Look them up in the Internet records – they were incredible runners.) I don’t have the News Journal clipping for this dual meet, so for the sake of storytelling I’ll assume they were both in the mile that day.

I was running so slowly that I feared being lapped by the Greenplate / Bray duo. Maybe, as destroyer of their XC trophy the previous fall, I unwittingly provided added motivation for them that day. Well, that’s a bit fanciful, isn’t it? The reality: they were great runners whose lofty long-term goals were motivation enough to trounce the MtP competition on April 26th. They certainly didn’t know who I was.

Had they lapped me at their finish line, it would have made a great photo to which I could have added a bogus caption: “State champions barely defeat young Mt. Pleasant miler.” A trick of the lens…as I still would have had 440 more yards of plodding ahead of me. Fantasy track & field…

My time that day was an abysmal 5:33. The winning time? Let’s just say it was much, much faster. (At least I ended that season with a couple of sub-2:10 half miles to my credit and a 5th place 880 finish in the New Castle County Sophmore Meet – held on the same Newark High track.)

Recollection #3: September 27, 1973 cross country meet: the “Tale of the Tape”

In this early autumn meet in my senior year, Mt. Pleasant went up against the eventual state champ, Salesianum, at Brandywine Creek State Park. Sallies walloped us. I finished way back.

Coach Crowther taped my ankles for the first, and last, time that day. The uneven thick-grass footing at the start of the course had been a bit rough on my weak ankles during a recent practice run at this new course, so Coach C had instructed me to shave my ankles the night before the meet in preparation for a taping. Still lacking much shaving experience as a 17 year old, I took my father's standard razor – the kind one opened up to insert a single blade – and tried to shave my hairy lower legs and ankles.

What a bloody mess. The foot of my bed was crimson the next morning from the overnight oozings of several razor cuts.

I applied band-aids to protect the scabs and headed for school. In the afternoon came the taping, but it was applied too tightly. The weather, being 90 degrees or so with no cloud cover, didn’t help matters.

On your mark...the gun...there I was in last place. I thought I was gonna keel over...all that blood on the sheets hours earlier, yet in the race I felt there was NO blood in my feet!

I finished that hilly course, yelped for help, and was saved by a Sallies runner’s father, who produced a knife or scissors for removing the tape Full bloodflow was restored.

A friend had brought an 8mm movie camera to the meet to record a few clips for posterity. This was in the days before camcorders, mind you. He presented me with a videotape of his footage some years back – the only such images I have. At the very end one sees my bleedin' ankles, shoes removed. I think I see a band-aid drooping from the mess. It looks like an outtake from “The Mummy”.

I just watched the footage…literally FOOTage…for the first time in about a decade. I love it. I must thank my pal again for this snippet of my life caught on film over 30 years ago.


Recollection #4: October 15, 1973 cross country meet: cheering? on a runner

I recall another cross country dual meet in the fall of '73 which went poorly for me, and which is still a source of ribbing from a couple of high school friends who were present as spectators. It was Mt. Pleasant versus Christiana, at Christiana, on a gorgeous afternoon. The course started and finished in their stadium and made a couple of loops. Most of the running was along a treeless route – around the track, and adjacent to sports practice fields, perimeter fences, and so forth, but along the I-95 side of the property the course wound through a small patch of woods.

Running sick that day with the onset of the flu, I completely hit the wall, in last place, all alone, in the woods -- on a confusing new course which my team had only run once prior to the meet. I got lost! Had to stop! Found my way, but the embarrassment of finishing last was humiliating. What drove home this temporarily wretched feeling were two additional factors:

a) The JV runners' race start had to be delayed until I came plodding in. Where’s Matt? Where’s Matt? I remember the concerned, motherly look on the face of Coach Crowther’s wife when I finally crossed the line. (She often attended meets and handed out sliced oranges at the finish, bless her heart.)

b) My so-called buddies, non-runners all, drove to the meet to razz me that afternoon. They were obnoxious, as close pals are often allowed to be in their gangs. On that day, laughing at my expense, they “rooted” for me with a variation of a Mt Pleasant cheer. It went something like this: "M with an A, with an M-A-T, with an M-A-T-T, Matt! P with an O, with a P-O-O, with a P-O-O-L-E! That's how you spell it, here's how you yell it: Maaaaaaaatt Poooooole!!!"

Because the site was at Christiana High, there were plenty of people within earshot, unlike a typical cross country dual meet in a park setting (Banning, Rockford, Brandywine Creek, etc.).

I can still hear those SOB’s. And they knew I was dying out there. They're still my close friends, so I guess I forgave quickly...after missing the next few days of school with the bug.

One of these friends, a school yearbook photographer, brought a camera to the meet. I have a few snapshots of that legendary day. I’ve thought of burning them – the photos, not my friends – to exorcise those evil running demons of the past, but…nah. They make me laugh now.

To the active junior high and high school runners, jumpers, etc., who read this:

Get someone to bring a camcorder or digital camera to meets, to practices, and to any gatherings like award banquets. Videotaping was in its infancy thirty years ago, and 8mm movie cameras were not too common, either. Even still photos weren’t as prevalent as today, and most cameras were cheap Kodaks – inferior to modern digital ones. So we older folks generally don’t have much of a visual record of those stirring activities of yesterday. Take the initiative to record yourselves on tape, with digital cameras, etc. Thirty years down the road you might actually enjoy looking back to the halcyon days of your youth.

Happy sweating to all.
Matt Poole

TOM MCCARTAN
When I first went out for the St. Mark's cross-country team in the fall of
1981, I was looking at it as preparation for the baseball season.  Thought
I'd have some good lungs to bring to the diamond.  Before long though, I was
hooked.  I don't know if it was the competition, the new friends, the
beautiful courses, or whether because I found out by accident that I wasn't a
bad runner.  I suspect many successful harriers find out that way, and that I
think is a key ingredient in what keeps our sport unique, fresh, and beloved.
 There could be a champion hiding in unlikely places.

It took only one season of cross-country to end my baseball aspirations and when spring rolled
around, instead of fielding ground balls and smacking base hits, I was
pulling the 16,32 double on the track.  When the winter track program began
at St. Mark's in my junior year, the trifecta was complete. 

Running quickly became the defining element of my life and was one of the
blessed constants during an otherwise turbulent time.  Fact is I wouldn't be
a teenager again for all the acres at The Creek.  But the exams, the
heartbreaks, and the curfews evaporated with every rain-soaked epic on the
beaten paths, and every bell lap drama on the track.  Sometimes we lost,
sometimes we won.  Sometimes we hated it, just a little, when the burn was
especially cruel. 

And we never leave.  Today, sixteen years after I graduated high school, my
first order of business when I open the sports page is not to read about the
Flyers game or A-Rod's unimaginable contract.  Rather, I turn to see how
amazing Meredith was yesterday, what Buddy has to say about the top-ten
shakeup, or who is the new juggernaut in the 4x4. 

Last year, after working for twelve years with a huge local employer, I
finally decided that I'd rather push thumbtacks into my own forehead than
spend another day dying the slow corporate death.  I left and my only regret
is that I didn't do it twelve years ago.  Now I'm working at Delcastle where
I coach, you guessed it, cross-country and track.  As an athlete, the sports
gave me some of my fondest memories.  As a coach, I know they're doing the
same for my kids.


MIKE WALSH

Being a Cross Country coach for 14 years and a runner for many more years has been simply a wonderful experience.
     There are many things that make it very enjoyable. One is the friendships developed over the years and just the chance to get to know such wonderful people among both the runners and the coaches. The athletes that we get to coach are usually excellent students, and overall good people.
     Also the fact that to me there are really no losers in our sport. In many sports the question one might ask is did you win? Often times in XC if you improved your time by 1 second it feels good. Just crossing the finish line is a great accomplishment for some people and is gratifying to see. At our school we make announcements about the runners that improved the most and many times they are the slowest runners, but they still get recognition they wouldn't otherwise receive.
     Also team wise your record isn't as important as it might be in another sport. A few years ago at states I heard a team announced as finishing tenth and they were very excited  and high-fiving each other. How many sports would that happen in?
     The fact that there are no cuts and everybody gets to play is a big part of our sport. How much fun can it be to ride the bench or get cut. As a former basketball coach at a grade school it broke my heart and many kids hearts when I had to cut 30 people. It gives people, sometimes not the most athletic in our schools a chance to be part of team, feel appreciated and with hard work achieve some success.
     One of the saddest days of the year for me is when the state meet is over because I know I'll never get to coach that particular group of people. But then there is a whole group of new people that adds excitement as soon as the next season begins.
                                                            Mike Walsh
                                                            Archmere Academy

ANONYMOUS #1

Elizabeth Redden
After two hockey seasons that featured me starting on the right bench
every game, I realized that it was time for me to try something different.  Despite
the fact that I practiced hockey in my spare time and attended hockey camps and summer leagues, I
simply was not improving at the rate of my teammates.  However, I had always stood out
among my teammates in one area- running.  I consistently won our training circuits and also
competed very successfully in summer races.  Therefore, at the beginning of my junior
year, I traded in my hockey cleats for running shoes and signed up for the cross-country
team.  This was not done without reservations.  I had played hockey every year
since seventh grade and had many friends on the hockey team.  Yet, I knew it was time
to move on.  I ended up loving cross-country.  Not because we won meet after meet,
not because we were named conference champions, and not because we won the state
championships.  These honors were all wonderful and made the season more enjoyable, of
course.  However, it was the team itself and the atmosphere of the practices that made cross-country
such a worthwhile and invaluable experience for me.  I met so many wonderful people through cross-country whom I probably would not have met otherwise.  I was shy going into my first practice; I knew virtually
no one and I was unsure of how I would be received.  I was surprised and thrilled when everyone
greeted me with open arms.  I improved throughout the season, contributed to our team's
success at the state and conference meets, and made the all-conference team myself.  What I
remember, however, is the practice where we ran through Hurricane Floyd's torrential downpours and
strong winds. I remember being woken up by a very hyper teammate during our trip to the
Manhattan Invitational at an insanely early hour and I remember laughing with my
teammates in the loft before practice every day.  I remember the long jogs spent discussing
lime-green Homecoming dresses and football games.  I remember thinking about how I was crazy
to think that I would ever regret joining the cross-country team.  My only regret ended up
being that I did not join sooner.

Emily Abessinio

I barreled my way through the back door. As I tossed my grass-stained shin guards into the laundry room, I stomped my cleats into the floor. Pain flooded my joints as I tried to make it, centimeter by centimeter, to a chair. I had just survived my fifth and- according to me- final day of field hockey tryouts. After I gave it my all during those suicides, after I sprinted till I sputtered out of breath, they rewarded me, somewhat. I had made the team, on one condition: I would train to be goalie. That just was not my idea of field hockey, standing in the blaring sun, basking in someone else’s B.O. that saturated the three-year-old goalie pads.

Earlier that day, while hopping back and forth over my stick for an agility test, I had watched the cross country team glide by like a pack of gazelles. I squinted past one field hockey player’s agonizing grimace to detect genuine smiles on the gently glowing faces of the runners. With this image prancing around in my mind all weekend, I decided to switch to the cross country team. Being the worrisome freshman that I was, I feared that running three miles would be too strenuous. If I couldn’t handle it, I’d have nowhere to turn. Plus, I would have to make new friends. What if my ex-field hockey colleagues got mad at me? I’d have no one. The decision would be a dangerous one, indeed.

The next day, my mom dropped me off at cross country practice. I hopped out of the car, my shabby sneakers slapping on the pavement. I slammed the door and glimpsed into the car at my field hockey stick lying forlornly on the seat. I quickly turned away and ran over to meet the coach.

Three years later, I happily write this, just sealing my fourth and final cross country season. As it turns out, that timid freshman turned in four varsity seasons and two years as captain, all the while being surrounded by her closest friends. I couldn’t have accomplished any of this without cross country. No, I’m not contradicting myself. Cross country is what enabled me to have the confidence to dig for strengths my muscles and mind had never known. Soon I was congratulated in the hallways for my performances. Surprising gestures like this gave me the social confidence to defeat my shyness and meet many people, teammates or not, who are now dear friends. Race after race, I’d work to improve my time by as many seconds (or what turned out to be minutes) as I thought possible. The determination and optimism that accrued with my endurance each season lifts me through hard times now, both academically and emotionally. Because I yearned to improve, I was cautious about my eating habits. I constantly researched beneficial racing foods and in doing so, I gained a greater sense of health in general. With each season, I grew to understand the sport more, and I soon lent my leadership to my teammates as well as to the Student Council and school newspaper. Cross country instills teamwork like no other sport, and not only have I learned how to work with others to achieve a goal together, but I also have made my best friends in doing so. As I reflect on my high school career, I can attribute almost every accomplishment, every happiness to the sport that is so special to me- cross country. If I didn’t slam that heavy car door on that glaring Cranbarry field hockey stick, I can strongly say that I would not be the person I am so happy to have become.

Max White

Running has been the one constant in my life since I started high school two
and a half years ago.  The story of how I first became involved is quite
interesting, and worth telling.

Before my freshman year, one of my friends was involved with a summer science
program through one of the teachers at our school, and she requested that I
join her in her weeklong venture.  Seeing as I had nothing better to do, I
agreed.  It was that Thursday, when the group went on a canoe trip, that I met
the man who forever changed my life.

Halfway through the canoe trip, the entire team took a break for lunch.  Having
gotten stuck with a partner who was less than amiable, I decided to try
paddling with one of the chaperones.  When it was time to get back in the
canoe, I was alone with Ron Hull.  Prior to this trip, my dad had already
talked to me about running cross-country, but I did not give it much thought; I
had never been fast, and I was not interested in running.  Nevertheless, since
the coordinator had introduced Mr. Hull as the cross-country coach, I mentioned
that I was somewhat interested in his sport.  Coach Hull proceeded to explain
to me every imaginable benefit that I could get from running cross-country, and
I agreed to join the team.

My first cross-country season was great.  I dropped my times by unbelievable
amounts and got into better physical shape than I had ever been in my entire
life.  It was near the end of the season that several of the veteran runners
persuaded me to join the track team, and I once again took their advice.

The first thing I noticed about track was how different it was from cross-
country.  There were no hills, shorter distances, and no long runs in
practice.  My first indoor track season was quite possibly the most physically
excruciating experience that I will ever go through in my entire life. 
However, Coach Madric's intense workouts paid off, and my times continued to
drop and my fitness improved.

In addition to the physical benefits, track gave me a sense of purpose. 
Whether or not I have ever cared to admit it, during my freshman and sophomore
years of high school track was on my mind more than anything else in my life. 
I became obsessed with self-improvement and pouring my soul into running.

This year, things changed for me.  We got a new cross-country coach, and while
Coach Bixler is a fine runner and a good coach, he is not Mr. Hull.  Coach Hull
started me on a path that forever changed my life, and there is no way to
replace a man of that caliber.  In addition to the loss of Coach Hull, the
track program changed drastically.  Practice mentalities were taken to another
level of intensity, and I began to feel as if my best was not good enough. 
Near the end of my track career, I was literally heartbroken.  I still loved to
run, but no matter how hard I tried I couldn't go any faster.  This lack of
improvement was made all the worse by hearing talk of "If you meet your goals,
they're being set too low."  Hearing this from a coach made my situation all
the more precarious, and the final month of my track career was spent in sheer
agony.  Deep down, I knew that it was over, but it still took me a month to
quit.  When I finally did, I felt that a piece of me was missing, but also that
I was moving on to other parts of my life.  Track did more for me than anything
else that I have been involved with, except for cross-country.  I would not
change what I did for anything.

I will be a senior next year, and I plan to return to the cross-country team as
a co-captain.  It will be my final season of running, but it will not be the
end of my life as a runner.  I have found running to have as many benefits as
those that Coach Hull first explained to me two and a half years ago, and I
plan to run until I am physically unfit to do so.

Run long, run far, run hard.

Max White
Glasgow High School Junior




Olivia  Fokas

    This is the first year that I ran cross country.  I'm a junior and the main reason that I decided to come out for the team was to get in shape.  I didn't think that I would actually be good.  But somehow I became so committed to the team.  The whole team was just  so great.  I've played a lot of sports, but this team is different than all the others.  It is amazing how close our team is.  I have a special bond with every girl on the team.  We are like sisters.  As far as the work-outs went, our coaches were awesome.  Before the work-outs I would never want to do them, but after the work-outs there was always this feeling of achieving something and those dreadful mile reps actually helped me set my race pace.  I have unbelievable respect for both of my coaches.  They are the two of the best coaches that I've ever had.  If it were not for them...pushing me...making me believe that I could always run faster, I don't think that i could have ever made all conference or all county.  I would  probably have not ever ever broken 24minutes, and for winter track, I would still be running 14minutes for the 3200meter race.  By the end of cross country, I learned that if your legs didn't feel like pudding and your stomach didn't feel like it was going to explode, you should have run better.  My coaches have also given me unbelievable strength for indoor track.  So many times after bad races, I would just ask myself myself why I run.  I've felt like giving up so many times, and I probably would have if it weren't for my coaches.  So this essay was basically written just to let Mr. and Mrs. Byers know that they are truly appreciated.  

XC 2000....Jessica Kaszeta (McKean)

             In the year 2000 I became a freshman at McKean High School. So
far the best thing to happen to me was becoming involved with Cross Country
and Winter Track. Day after day, as I go through each practice, I wonder why
I decided to run. In my 7th grade gym class we had a little segment of track
and field. As we got into it, I really liked it and decided this is what I
will be doing in high school. But I never knew it would be so much fun. At
the time I only thought there was spring track, so I thought I would have to
give up my love for softball. But, when I found out there was Cross Country,
a sport of running in the fall, I'd thought I try it. When my parents found
out that I would be doing it, I got a lot of criticism. I figured out this
was done because I had no clue cross country was a 3 mile race. Well having
my parents at times not believe that I could do this, tempted me more to do
as well as i could.
            As the summer came to an end, practices began. My first practice
didn't go as well as I hoped. That morning before practice, I didn't eat
anything, and learned the hard way that was a bad thing to do. During the
whole practice I didn't feel very well, and the effect of that came at the
end. Thanks to this I lost confidence in myself, and I knew other people did
too. But, I continued with XC to prove to people that didn't believe in me
wrong. With the support of my great coaches, Mr. and Mrs. Byers, and the rest
of my team I made it. At our first meet my time was 35:48, not great, but
good for a freshman that is totally new at this. But as meets went on, I
always seemed to somehow take anywhere from 2 seconds to 2 minutes off of my
times. People couldn't believe how this was being done, and neither could I.
Due to these improvements, I went from #1 JV to #6 Varsity. By the end of our
season, if someone were to subtract my last meet time from my first meet
time, I had taken 10 minutes off of the times. I never dreamed that this
would ever happen. And I knew the only reason it did was because my coaches
and teammates pushed me and supported me, because they knew this was something
I could do. I thank them very much for doing this.
            Also during our season of cross country we went to
invitationals, and many other parties. I always worried I would never fit in
or make friends. But I was wrong. I made so many great friends on the team
that cared for me. We had our rough times, but we were always friends. The
parties and invitationals brought us closer together and helped me realize
that I did fit in. I love this sport and I couldn't imagine having any more
fun than I did.
            At the end of our season we had a banquet, and for some reason
my coaches wanted my parents to be there somehow. Awards were given, and I
discovered the reason for my parents needing to be present no matter what. As
the award for most improved was given my name was called and I received the
award. Being only a freshman you would never suspect that I would get this,
along with a varsity letter, or that it would end up bringing some tears to
my eyes. I was told, "You're a freshman. You don't need to be crying." But
the joy and satisfaction overcame me. As my parents walked over to
congratulate me I mocked them and said, "Yeah I'll never be able to do this."
I received a look of approval and an apology from my parents for doubting me.
Seeing the end of the season I knew this would be a sport I would do for the
rest of my high school years and possibly through college. My coachs'
reactions to the banquet, and to the season as they went through it, told me
this was important, and I need to be a part of it. So for anyone who may
think they aren't capable of something, believe you can and live up to what
you want to do.

Kelly and Jenna

Got To Love Lou

Lou Olivere, what a guy! If you did not already know, he is the Ursuline
cross-country, winter track, and track coach.  He is truly an inspiring soul.
 He always wants you to try your best, or he will say to you one of two
things: "Get moving or I will bite your leg!" or "Get your head out of your
***!" But really, Lou is like a big teddy bear.  He might scare you or try
to, but he has a big heart especially for running.
Lou's daily schedule includes getting up in the morning and running ten miles
or so he says.  He wears his bright short shorts and a shirt that usually
doesn't match.  But hey, it is Lou he doesn't care.  After work, Lou stops by
Ursuline to pick up his bunch of lovely, talented, crazy runners.  To say the
least, if you ever get in a car with Lou, buckle up and enjoy the ride.  Lou
then drives to practice and gets pumped up listening to Kid Rock, or if he is
in a mellow kind of mood,
he will bust out Charlotte Church and the classic "We All Live in a Yellow
Submarine."  If you that Lou can not sing, you are right he can't, but he
tries.  
From all his crazy moments and near death experiences, all runners who have
had him as a coach can honestly say, he is the greatest coach we have all
had.  He cares about everyone and wants everyone to succeed even his dog
Shadow.  Lou is never late for practice or a meet.  Hey, you might even find
him pacing around with a saw in his hand. (Cross-country 99).  Oddly as it
seems, Lou does give his runners the courage to do the best in everything
they want to do including on the track, at school or in the woods.  Lou
really does love freshman.  He insults them every day and makes them bow down
to him, all out of love though.  For his sophomores, juniors and seniors, Lou
insults you occasionally, but only after you make a mistake, and he is always
teaching.  Also, Lou makes running fun.  Every practice is something new, and
everyone looks forward to the season.  Lou is a popular guy at Ursuline.  He
can not go two feet down the hallways without receiving a "hi" or a hug from
one of his runners.  
Lou Olivere is an overall great guy and coach.  His angelic smile just makes
you want to run everyday of your life!  Lou has helped his runners become
better people and also taught us to have confidence in everything that we do
each and everyday of our life.
If you read this Lou Olivere, here is your quote that inspires us all.  
"I think I did." UAXC 2000.
Kelly and Jenna

It's state track, then Nigeria for Singers

By MATT ZABITKA
Staff reporter
05/14/2001

If not for the Delaware High School Track and Field Championships, set for Friday and Saturday at Polytech High in Woodside, Dwight Singer would already be in Nigeria.

Singer, a missionary, delayed his departure when his son and daughter, both students at Wilmington Christian School, qualified for the state meet.

Nathaniel, 18, a senior, qualified in the 1,600-meter run with a time of 4:48. He also runs the 800 and in relays.

Lydia, 15, a sophomore, qualified in the 1,600 (5:39) and 3,200 (12:39).

"Both will be among the top finishers in Division II," John Ausema, Wilmington Christian's track coach, predicted. "Nathaniel has a good shot to win it all."

Nathaniel, Lydia and their 20-year-old brother Timothy, a former soccer and baseball player at Wilmington Christian now studying aviation technology, all were born in Africa.

"My wife [Miriam] and I lived in Africa from 1989 to 1997, working as missionaries," Dwight Singer said. "We returned to the U.S. in 1997, with plans to return to Nigeria as soon as possible.

"When we first went to Africa, we lived in the bush, later moving to a city name Jos. I was there teaching and training Africans of college age about Christian education and becoming missionaries in Africa."

Dwight, 48, and his wife love Africa so much they are considering making it their retirement home.

When Dwight was a teen-ager, playing football and baseball as a member of Concord High School's first graduating class in 1970, being a missionary and going to Africa never crossed his mind.

He enrolled at University of Delaware, where he played football and graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering.

"It was during my senior year at Delaware that I committed my life to Jesus Christ, after I got involved with a Christian group on campus," Singer said. "But I made no dramatic changes at that time. That came later, after working several years as an engineer in Connecticut.

"I got married after graduating from college and began making definite plans for a career and the Christian ministry. I started going overseas. I had a desire to teach where there was a need for theological education."

Singer studied theology in Texas, became a minister and later went to Africa. He is now working toward a doctorate degree at Westminster Seminary. Lydia, will accompany her parents to Nigeria, where she will finish high school. Nathaniel, scheduled to graduate from Wilmington Christian on June 2, will remain in the U.S. to attend college.

But first comes the state track meet. Dwight Singer played sports in high school and college, instilled his love of sports in his children, and does the same as a missionary.

"We encourage sports for community life," he said.

DAVE FREDERICK

This is dave Frederick. I coached cape Henlopen from 1975 through 1985 in
track and sometimes cross country. I am currently a teacher at cape and
Sports editor of cape gazette. i post my column at Delawaresports.com but
mostly I think the upstate crowd just doesn't understand my style and humor
which proves they are better educated than Sussex Countians.
anyway i though a few essays from a coache's perspective might be fun so
look for some of my stuff.
My email address in order of preference are
davefredman@aol.com,bobobrazil@hotmail.com and bigtrowel@yahoo.com. to catch
up with me it is best to copy all three.
by the way you guys do a super job with your site.

Flashback: 1981 state meet at Tower Hill. Bob Behr is Meet Director. For
required adult offical I write in Bobo Brazil and Gorilla Monsoon (two pro
wrestlers of that era) Bob Behr in his sophisticated prep power delivered
bellows over the PA "Bobobrazil and Gorilla Monsoon of Cape Henlopen report
to the long jump pit immediately or your team will be scratched."
Don't let me get started on Lambert and henry. I could have a comedy field
day on those two Hall of Famers.
dave frederick a.k.a.Fredman

NERD WARRIOR
We have a gravel track that washes out when it rains. Our equipment is thrown around and misused by the gym classes that come upon it. We are located in Wilmington, with nothing but concrete and asphalt in all directions for about 7 miles.

I love it.

I love being the brunt of jokes and taunts. I especially enjoy it when people say "your win or time in/at blah blah blah was a fluke". My school is always viewed as an underdog, or not as a competitor at all. But most of all, I love beating teams who think that my team is an easy win.

I used to take all of this in stride. All of these annoyances were acceptable, and so was losing. Until Mr. Kelly came along. He gave us the usual coachesque speeches on never giving up, etc, etc. The thing that makes him different is that he shows us that we can apply these principals in competition. He made me acknowledge that you cannot allow others' words or performances (or a poor training facility) to intimidate you or hold you down. Hats off to Mr. Kelly for being the best coach I've ever had.
I used to fear other runners, and the things they said about my team and themselves. I used to believe everything I heard, even the negative things. It used to intimidate me. I used to dread pounding out mileage on concrete and asphalt.

Now I love it.

-4:45 and dropping.

The Incident  (Too Much Water) 
My most embarrassing xc moment was not during a race, but on my way to the race.  On the night before states, we had finished our pre-states dinner and then everybody went to the football game.  When I got home I decided that (on the advise of Runners World) I should drink a whole bunch of water to get ready for my race.  Apparently I didn't know when to stop.   The state meet was at Killen's and we made the trek down there at the crack of dawn.  I made my way to the back of the bus with my 2 gallon water jug and sat down and proceeded to drink some more water.  I was determined to be nice and hydrated for the race.  Well,  we probably made it to about Dover Downs and I started to feel a little too full of the water, in fact no, I was bloated!  So the message was relayed to the front of the bus to the coach
who got the bus driver to pull the bus over and gave me wise instructions, he doesn't just get coach of the year for coaching running, he's a multidimensional coach, well anyway he says "go back into the woods as far as you can"  so I bound off the bus running all the way to the unseen fence that was about 20ft away and blocking the woods!! and so I look at the fence.....and then back at the bus....and then back at the fence.....and traffic was whizzing by, yada yada yada .....I was greeted with a standing ovation on the bus!  
    oh and my most embarrassing racing moment was when one time I came around a turn and fell and then I got up and continued running, boy was I red in the face!
 
                                     -Anonymous :o) 

Title: The Race
Name: Matt, Salesianum 03'

The mesh shirts and shorts of matching gold and blue are seen dashing off
into the deep, cool forest following the loud and distinct gun heard
throughout the area.  The well postured coach slaps the yellow start button
on the gray and black stop watch hanging around his neck, down to about his
belt.  In the first 40 seconds all remain in a tight, long pack, and have
trouble maneuvering their arms and shoulders without whacking their close
neighbor.  At ½ mile, where sticks and stones lay between trees changing
colors to a fall setting, they begin to separate and adjust personal pace. 
Through the tunnel of trees and bushes the anxious spectators watch who
leads the pack.  There's a yellow plastic post sticking out of the ground
and all turn right down a steep hill where their strides shorten and
shoulders hunch back.  After the hill the athletes see a blue '1' painted on
a post where the coach stares at the clock in his right hand and says aloud,
"5:29, 30, 31".  He sees about eight heavily breathing teens leading the
way, with pairs of two's and three's following 15 long seconds after.
A half mile and some feet down the dirt path is where "Runners are made",
as the coach would say.  The second half of the challenge begins, and
doesn't start off with a cakewalk.  Their faces stare in shock as they glare
at a hill which appears to be higher and steeper than a mountain.  The
runners fight the grueling pain as they crawl and struggle up the course
monument referred to as "Maintenance Hill."  Knees thrust higher, and arms
pump quicker as they travel atop the rocks and rough terrain up the hill. 
Finally when they reach the top loyal fans are there to clap, scream, and
motivate them to keep pushing until they reach the end.
       Two miles are behind, one and 1/10 to go.  The exhausted and weary
travelers are greeted at the wooden two-mile marker by another incline that
tests how much heart they have.  After the hill, not as challenging as
Maintenance, they reach a small dirt path with grass on both sides, just
ample size for one runner to travel on.  The fourth of a mile stretch
adjacent to the asphalt road brings thoughts to the boys of dousing
themselves with water shortly after they cross the much awaited finish line.
  The feeling of running on empty is felt in the last ½ mile, but not given
into.  Around a few turns and posts they see the final destination about 400
yards away, and make their best attempt to pass others and drop some seconds
off their time.  Around the final turn a small hill is in sight and everyone
kicks and pushes through the pain, and wipes the sweat from their eyes. 
Their heart feels like it's going to burst out of their chest, and they can
taste what they had for lunch.  Up the hill they see the white line
spray-painted on the grass and lengthen and quicken their stride.  Finally
they pass the finish line, and it's over.  Another race to learn from,
another one to improve on.

Rachel Schultz / Erica Schwartz

Essay by: Michael Shertok
Grade: 10
School: Newark High School
   - (Sprinter for the Newark High School Track and Field team.)

Track is unlike any other organized sport that I've experienced in my life. In order to excel in track, you have to be good at an exercise performed in most other sports: running. But besides other sports where running comes second to making a goal, passing the ball, or scoring a touchdown, track has one focus; one priority; one and only one objective; running, and doing it fast. And just like any other sport, there's always a margin for improvement when running track. Where there's scoring more touchdowns or blocking more goals in other such popular sports, track improvements consist of lowering your running time in events such as the 100, 200, and 400 meters. Another great feature of track is that not all events are solo events. Just like other sports consist of teams working together to win, track events such as the 400, 800, and 1600 relays require a 4-man team, with each member having to run 100, 200, or 400 meters, then having to pass off a baton to the next runner. Now this is t

   To conclude, the most appealing concept of running track is that if you can run, you can do track. To be incredibly fast and to excel at track, a good skill of running is required; however, just running a simple 400, or sprinting a 100, or participating in a 800 relay has nothing difficult in it. Just run, and anything in track is possible. That's why track is such a universal sport, attracting anyone at any age. Running is a simple concept to grasp, and there is so much fun in doing it if you run track.

I Love Everything About XC by David Moncrief

I was persuaded into running x-c by my friends.  I had no clue what i was in for.  I love everything about it.  I love running so hard that your legs feel like lead and then running harder until you can't feel your legs. I love running up insanely steep hills that most people would use climbing gear on.  I love how the guys and girls teams practice together.  I love how the coaches have "surprises" in the workouts. I love passing people in the last quarter because of the coaches "surprises". I love the rivalry on the team for places.I love giving it my all whe i have nothing left to give. I love everything about x-c. Everything but that long straightaway at Brandywine Creek that we refer to as "bumble".

WHY DO I RUN by Nicole Vespa   

why do i run?
I run to relieve all the stress and sadness in my life.
whenever im angry or sad Itake it out on the track,
I put all my worries, dought's, and fears, behind me and i run.          
Its how i escape reality, I run to be free.
Free of my parents, school work, friends, and rules.
I run because I enjoy it, because its fun for me. I like being part of a team. competing in meets, making new friends and Ilike winning. I run because im good at it, because its what I do.
I am a runner!
that's why I run.