"Chariot of Fire" movie script
(Movie novel)
Screenwriter/Colin Wayland (UK)
Rewriting/WJ Weatherberg
Translation/Wanping
The film "Chariot of Fire" was also translated "Chariot of Fire". It won the best picture, best screenplay, best music, and best costume at the 1982 Academy Awards in the United States and the British Film Institute Best New Film Award. The film was praised when it was screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 1981. After it was released in the United States at the end of 1981, it was even more warmly welcomed. This article is a film novel by WJ Weathebry based on the film script written by Colin Welland. The translator is based on the version published in New York, USA in March 1982.
This film is based on the true story of two British college students who won two gold medals at the 1924 Olympics. One of them was born in a businessman family of Jewish immigrants. He was often upset because he was of Jewish descent and was discriminated against by others. He was determined to make a blockbuster sprint in order to change people's traditional prejudices. The other is a devout religious believer, he connected everything about himself with God. Although the two men have different experiences, personalities, beliefs, qualities and training methods, they both have a determination to climb the peak of sports. Therefore, after tenacious and hard training, they finally won gold medals and won honors for the United Kingdom.
Chariot refers to an ancient two-wheeled carriage that can be used for combat, competition, or other ceremonies. As the name suggests, "Chariot of Fire" has the meaning of motivating and encouraging people to move forward courageously. The American "Washington Post" stated that the title of the film was taken from a lyrics adapted from the poet Blake's long poem "Milton" (see the end of this article). This song is the same as the theme of this article. It all shows people's positive and enterprising spirit, and promotes the traditional spirit of the Olympic movement.
It must be pointed out that this work is about things in the 1920s. The environment of the two protagonists and their thoughts, words and deeds will naturally bear the stigma of that era and that kind of society. Therefore, we must look at it historically. this problem. The first chapter of the original book, which is nearly a thousand words, is actually the summary of the story in the whole book. It is abridged because it overlaps with the content that follows.
--editor
one
Cambridge, England, 1919
The First World War has just ended. This is a great battle called to end all wars (Note 1). After four years of bloody trench warfare in France, millions of young men-the so-called "lost generation"-died on the battlefield. Their shadow is cast on the post-war world. The stable way of life in Europe has been destroyed. Now that the roadblocks are cleared, change is imperative. The guns of the Germans created many vacancies in the seats of power, and those who were unable to pay attention to the power in the past were given unprecedented opportunities at this time.
The young Harold Abrahams is one of them. He is a brilliant student, an excellent athlete with extraordinary sprinting qualities, and a person who has all the necessary conditions to succeed in British society. The only shortcoming is that he was not born in Anglo-Saxon, Protestant, or upper class. He is a Jew. He used to be convinced that this indicated that he was an outsider like a brand, so that he could not participate in the governance of the country. However, the war had terrible consequences. Many future dignitaries disappeared. The structure of the British upper class was shocked and could never be restored. The young Harold felt that the time had come to make his mark. The best place for this is Cambridge University, because many British rulers were trained here.
The first batch of university freshmen after the war are arriving in Cambridge one after another. They took trains and kept pouring into this ancient university city with their belongings. They all pretended to be alive and well to conceal their true feelings of anxiety.
Harold was also in the crowd, even at the time he stood out from the crowd. He was tall, with jet-black hair and stubborn eyes. Although he was only twenty years old, he looked very mature. He has a strong character and is much more confident than other freshmen. He is aggressive in nature, good at dictating, and easily agitated.
He got off the train from London, looked around, looking for porters to help him carry his luggage. Finally he saw one, and he called the man over, but the man ignored it. Find the second person, again. Harold strode angrily to the stationmaster and protested.
The station master is a fat man in a railway uniform. He tried to explain that it was all the consequences of the war-porters lacked hands-but Harold interrupted him. He said unceremoniously that war should not be used as an excuse. In fact, the war is over, but in Harold's mind, there is still a war of his own-a war against national prejudice.
He grabbed his luggage and hurried away along the crowded platform. He only felt his hurt feelings, other than that, he turned a blind eye to everything around him. He almost ran into a classmate, and then ran into another classmate full of emotions. The latter has a lot of luggage, with suitcases, tennis rackets and golf clubs.
Harold said "I'm sorry", and suddenly smiled, amiable. He added: "Look, I'm free with one hand. Let me take the golf club for you. You seem to be a pretty good athlete."
The young man said: "Just show it off." He introduced himself as Aubrey Montagu, and then said, "So, you don't like sports."
Harold said unequivocally; "I like racing."
"Really?" Aubrey was tall, with broad shoulders, but with a gentle appearance, Harold felt that he was a trustworthy person at first sight. "I like racing too. But I can't afford to lose. Once I run and lose, I can't stand it. How about you?"
Harold smiled triumphantly, this kind of smile is sometimes considered domineering.
"I don't know how it feels to lose, because I have never lost."
He just stated a fact calmly, without any boasting.
Aubrey Montagu wondered about his new friends, thinking to himself: He has a kind of self-confidence, and he is not like an Englishman. Is he so confident because he is a Jew and has to show himself? Aubrey didn't have time to consider the answer carefully, because Harold had taken the luggage of the two to the street. The luggage was so heavy that he staggered with him. At this time, a person came over and expressed his willingness to help Harold with his luggage. He was just in his early twenties, but his face looked old and his clothes were in tatters.
"Sir, can I carry your luggage and call a taxi?"
Harold said, "Thank you, no need." As he said, he noticed that the young man's coat was pinned to the battle medal and his arm was missing. He is a survivor of the war and a disabled veteran. He is a member of the working class, has suffered a lot in the trenches, and now he can only make a living indiscriminately. At this moment, he saw the two young students wearing expensive tweed suits and enjoying a well-off life, and he couldn't help being hostile in secret. But he kept quiet. He thought they might feel some sympathy when he saw him maimed by the war. This mood of people should be used. So he stretched his empty sleeves under Harold's nose, and it really worked. Harold asked him to send a bag to the taxi and gave a generous tip.
***
At that time, there were bicycles everywhere in Cambridge. The taxi driver kept honking his horn to open the road. Two young students stared out of the car window and looked at their new home. At first glance, apart from bicycles, Cambridge University is a bit too old-fashioned. Even the most modern buildings are somehow influenced by the architectural styles of other times.
The taxi stopped at Caius College, and the two young students carefully observed the carved coat of arms on the door of the arched entrance. Aubrey showed a respectful look, but Harold had no intention of expressing Sigu's secret feelings, because he was single-minded to conquer the present.
After paying the fare, they lifted their luggage and walked into the school gate. The wall of the college cut off the noise in the street outside. Harold looked at the meticulously manicured grass and the medieval arches around it, looking dizzy.
Aubrey asked, "What are you in a daze?"
Harold blurted out and replied: "I'm thinking of my parents." He was thinking: If my parents see everything here, they will feel out of place, but they want him to get along with it all. There is a small reception room next to the gate of the college, where the school staff lives. At this moment, a low voice came from the reception room: "Gentlemen, please come here."
A school worker wearing a top hat and a tuxedo greeted him, and the deputy next to him was just wearing a regular tuxedo and a bowler hat. These people are responsible for allocating rooms to students and taking care of their lives. Their identities are unclear, and they don't know whether they are employing personnel or supervising students. Their attitude is both polite, neither humble nor overbearing, but also seems to be malicious.
"Respect for the surname?" The school foreman with broad shoulders and thick chest and a sparse moustache snorted and asked.
Harold replied calmly: "We are new here."
"I can tell, boy. What's your name?"
Harold said his name. The school foreman looked up at him. Harold immediately noticed his expression—the expression that others often show when they realize that you are a Jew (Note 2).
"Which branch?" The school foreman looked at the roster. "Repton Branch, right?"
"Yes. I left a year ago."
"Fulfill your duties in the army? In France?"
"No... it's too late to join the army."
"Unlucky, boy."
"Whether he is lucky or not, many people still can't ask for it."
The school foreman looked him up and down, and said nothing, rather disapproving.
"What are your two names?" Harold took the offensive and asked actively.
"Rogers. I'm the school foreman. This is Mr. Ratcliffe, my assistant."
"Well, Rogers and Mr. Ratcliffe, since I accepted the king's commission, no one has called me'lady' anymore. Understand?"
"Yes, Mr. Abrahams, I understand." The school foreman nodded coldly.
"Thank you. I can't thank you enough if you can remember." He turned and nodded friendly to Aubrey, complacent because he was able to hold down the school foreman. He said "See you later" to his new friend, and then took a big step towards the room assigned to him.
The school foreman asked Aubrey: "Does your friend study barracks?"
Aubrey said, "I don't know at all."
"One thing is doomed anyway: he can't enter the church choir just by his name Abrahams, right?"
Aubrey could see the malice in the opponent's eyes, so he didn't answer. Only then did he understand why Harold had taken an offensive attitude just now-before the opponent had spoken, he suppressed the opponent first. Can Harold be fully accepted in Cambridge one day? What did he say about his race? ——I have never lost. He may never lose in life.
***
Aubrey Montagu soon learned more about his new friend. Harold Abrahams’ father was a Jewish financier who moved to London from Germany. Harold has a very strong self-consciousness about his Jewish identity. In fact, there are indeed many places in this country where he has recently emigrated that make it difficult for him to forget this. He urgently felt that it was necessary to seize a place for himself in the ruling group of the country his father had chosen. He is ambitious and prevents others from degrading him. Aubrey soon discovered that he was still a generous and enthusiastic man.
He is very different from Aubrey: Aubrey’s parents are meek members of the middle class in the south of England, Aubrey is a filial son, and his ideal is to be a great reporter. But now, they have finally become friends of life and death. Both people are passionate about racing, which greatly strengthens their friendship. When Aubrey saw Harold run 100 yards for the first time, he knew that he would definitely become a great sprinter, perhaps the fastest sprinter of the time. Harold has the physique, endurance, speed, and the spirit of seriousness and meticulousness in training, which Aubrey has never seen before in young athletes. But most importantly, he has hard work and a correct attitude. He starts fast, which is the result of long training and high concentration, and he has the stamina every time, able to surpass Aubrey and the others in the final sprint. He seemed to be fully cheered up during the competition. All the passion is concentrated on a fierce goal-striving to win. There is a suppressed resentment in his personality, like the boiling lava in a volcano; once the volcano erupts, a sudden force is formed, which quickly shoots him to the finish line.
Two friends attended the freshman party together. This is a luxurious candlelit event held in the brick-timbered hall of Caius College. The party is very grand, everyone wears evening gowns, and the atmosphere is almost the same as in the church, which is fully in line with the style of the solemn ceremony held by the college.
Here they have gained their new identities-the best of Britain, the upstarts, the successors of the "lost generation". A monument was erected behind the dean to commemorate the students who died in battle. The dean read out the names of Caius alumni one by one in a trembling voice, and then added: “They fought to save Britain and died to save everything that Britain represents.” Then he paused and tried to restrain himself. emotion. His young listeners—who were all dressed in hard-collared white shirts and black ties, looked energetic and neat—all bowed their heads.
Aubrey looked at Harold and saw that his face was expressionless, his jet-black eyes fixed on the dean. The old dean continued: "The hopes and ideals of the predecessors are now passed on to your younger generation, and their ideals have become your ideals."
Most freshmen listened quietly, paying attention to showing a polite and respectful look, but Harold suddenly leaned forward with a strong and challenging expression. This expression was exactly what Aubrey was in. Harold often sees it before the start of every race.
The dean went on to say: "I encourage you to examine yourself, measure your true potential, and try to find out what conditions you have to become great men..."
Harold's eyes flashed with confidence, as if he already knew what he had to be a great man.
"... Make full use of your conditions, raise your spirits, and don't let any force or any deceptive words hinder you from accomplishing your mission."
Harold listened with a smile. He will never let anything get in the way of himself.
Aubrey looked at Harold, once again moved by the kind of power in his character: Harold has strong thoughts and feelings and rich looks, which is obviously different. He is indeed an amazing person. Not only does he have extraordinary racing potential, but he also participates in many other activities in the academy. He seems to want to prove that he is "the essence of Britain" more than others. He even participated in amateur performances at the academy and enthusiastically played roles in popular Gilbert and Sullivan operas. Aubrey sometimes suspects that he is deliberately challenging, not to let others think that he is inferior to others. When he performed in Gilbert and Sullivan operas, or sat at the piano to play and sing, he seemed to be saying: "Look, you Anglo-Saxons, I am more British than you."
But that was Harold Abrahams in front of the public. Over time, Harold's trust in Aubrey has deepened, which will allow him to see the gloomy side of his heart. One night, when the two were holding a cup of hot cocoa in Harold's room, Aubrey raised the sensitive issue of anti-Semitism.
Harold stared at the cup, lost in thought. What is his opinion on this issue? "Is this the question you want to ask? Well, I can tell you this: It's heartbreaking, helpless, and indignation." Harold said, raising his voice immediately, "It's humiliating. I sometimes remind myself: Hey, hold on, this is all you imagined yourself. However, I immediately saw other people's strange expressions, the overtones when speaking, and the indifferent appearance when shaking hands..."
Harold's facial expression at this time showed that he was open and honest, but it also showed that he was vulnerable, which Aubrey had never seen before. It's rare for Harold to give up his guard against others, and his traumatized expression unmistakably reveals his deepest feelings.
"My father-he is a German Jew, so he is an outsider." He smiled and tried to conceal his feelings. "In terms of spirit, culture, language and food, he is just as foreign as Hamburger. ."
"And it's a clean hamburger warehouse that complies with Jewish regulations." Aubrey added with a smile, to encourage him to continue, because if he didn't say anything, he would have to explode.
"I love him and admire him. He admires this country. He made a lot of money from scratch, thinking it would be enough to raise his son into an Englishman." Harold stood up, from the shelf on the old fireplace, Take down a family photo framed with mirrors.
"My brother is a doctor, a famous person in his profession." Harold showed Aubrey the photo. "He wants what he wants. I am now standing still in the nation's leading university." His eyes flashed contemptuously. "But the old man has forgotten one thing: his beloved Britain is the world of Christianity and the world of Anglo-Saxons... The same is true of the knowledge halls and power corridors in Britain. Those who want to enter and exit these places are guarded very vigilantly. To these places."
Aubrey giggled.
"Harold, you are a student of law. You are good at defending your opinions."
"This is one of the rare strengths of our nation. People say that we can speak well." Harold smiled and added slowly, "It's strange to say that I never had a conscious Jewish consciousness. I didn’t have any in elementary or high school. But they thought of me as some kind of rare orangutan. But look at this place. Every stone exudes the glitz and smug stench of the Anglican Church, which is smelly enough to make St. Paul give up again. Christianity. I can’t wait to stand up and scream so that all buildings will fall apart.” (Note 3)
Aubrey asked calmly: "What should I do now? Forced to laugh, do you endure things?"
Harold shook his head and said firmly: "I want to compare with them. One by one, to compare them all. Run with them until they all fall down."
***
A few weeks later, Harold decided to participate in the Trinity Square sprint competition, and his attitude became clearer since then. This is a traditional race to compete with the big clock. No one has ever beaten it for 700 years. The challenger must run a lap around the large lawn of Trinity Square when the bell strikes at 12 noon. The distance is 312 steps, about 400 yards, and it takes less than 1 minute to run.
After Harold challenged him, his reputation spread immediately. As soon as they walked down the street, some students pointed to others. He has always paid attention to the tails and ends, and this time is no exception: he studied the runway around the large lawn very carefully. Despite the uneven road and sharp corners, it seems that there is no hope of winning, but Harold is confident and calm. This is the first time he has tried to "compare with them", and he has never lost in his life.
When he arrived at the scene, he was wearing a spring and autumn coat over his sportswear and a scarf around his neck. He showed a deliberately pretentious and casual attitude, which is the unique style of this university. Hundreds of students have gathered around the lawn, waiting to witness Harold launch an offensive against tradition, and are extremely excited for his courage and presumption. Some people regard the stone-changing window above the monk's room as an observatory, condescending and unobtrusive. Aubrey squeezed a way through the crowd for Harold so that he could stand in the traditional position under the big clock.
Someone yelled, "Abrahams, what do you put on your feet? Is it a rocket?"
The time is 11:5 and there are 5 minutes left. Harold must start at the first ringing of the big clock and return to the spot before 12 o'clock. At this time, someone yelled at him, persuading him to go home, thinking it was impossible. Others encouraged him: "Show them some color!"
Harold knew that his only hope of victory was the slow beating of the three major bells. The big clock strikes twice at every o'clock, which means that it will strike 24 at 12 o'clock. In this way, there is a little more time, which may allow him to complete the course. Nevertheless, it seems difficult to succeed. At this time, the Dean of Trinity College was standing by a window, sipping sherry, and commenting to the Dean of Keyes College about Harold Abrahams' presumptuous actions.
"Abrahams, do you know him?"
The dean of Caius College replied: "From Repton. Jew. My father is a financier in the business district of London."
"Financier? What kind of industry is this a good name for?"
"Probably it was money lending."
"Yes. What does the Repton Branch say about his son?"
The Dean of Caius College said: "Excellent learning, domineering, and a strong sense of self-defense has developed to the point of being competitive."
"They all do this one by one."
"However, they have a strong sense of responsibility and loyalty."
The dean of Trinity College frowned disapprovingly. Look down at the crowded square.
"Does people say he runs well?"
"Like a gust of wind."
Although the two senior leaders were a bit uncomfortable, they still couldn't help opening the window to see clearly.
Harold has taken off his spring and autumn coat and is ready. There is one minute left until 12 o'clock. A chalk line marked the starting point. The audience was asked to step back a few steps. Harold looked for the strongest foothold behind the chalk line to get off the ground quickly.
The starter is a serious young student. He announced: "Since there are no other challengers, Mr. Abrahams will race alone."
Suddenly someone shouted: "No, Mr. Starter!"
Everyone looked back to see who was squeezing through the crowd. It turned out to be Andrew Lindsay. He is a wealthy young nobleman, and is famous for his rigorous style and his love of sports. Andrew Lindsay is the 16th Earl of Cumbria, and he is precisely the kind of upper-class Englishman that Harold's Plan despise him.
The handsome young earl took off his spring and autumn coat in a magnificent manner, revealing the sportswear he was wearing inside. He has a bottle of champagne under one of his arms. He threw the bottle to Aubrey Montagu. At this time, the starter asked him: "Sir, please specify your name and college." "Lin Sai. I accompany my friend to run. We are in the name of our branch and college-Repton, Eaton and Caius, Challenge the big clock of Trinity Square." As he said, he shook Harold's hand, smiled heartily, and said: "Someone told me during breakfast that there was such a big event. I thought it might help. You can help."
Harold originally thought that Lindsay would look down on people, but now he has a good impression of his obvious charm and kindness. He said: "I'm so happy," then he looked at the clock and said, "Good luck."
The starter yelled: "Gentlemen, please take your place."
Harold and Andrew bent into a squat position. As the long hand of the big clock slowly moved to 12 o'clock, the crowd was silent.
A prelude to the bell sounded. Everyone looked up.
Then the big clock struck for the first time, and the two runners rushed away like running horses.
When they ran to the first corner, there were loud voices in the crowd.
Harold led by 1 yard. As he ran along the uneven track on the west side, he drew further. When he reached the second corner, he stepped on a smooth rock and slid his foot. Andrew grabbed the inner track to catch up and ran away along the southern trail with his long legs. But Harold soon caught up with him, and the two were almost on par-Harold's skin was dark and strong; the young earl was blond and fair-skinned, carefree.
The big clock keeps ringing... keeps ringing. Can they complete the course within the prescribed time?
At the third corner, both people gasped with open mouths. Then he entered the last long straight road on the east side of the square.
There are 11 sounds left!
The young Earl struggled to keep his position slightly ahead, but Harold's well-coordinated body kept pushing forward. When they reached the last corner, the distance between the two was only 1 yard.
The excitement of the audience is increasing. Both runners obviously have the possibility of defeating the clock. Count Andrew slid at the last corner, his energy was running low, but Harold had absorbed new strength from somewhere inside and made a final sprint. Aubrey Montague watched him run. In Harold's last-minute struggle, he saw Harold's astonishing will to win with all his heart, and he already felt that his friend had this quality.
"19! 20! 21!..."
The crowd chanted loudly and the clock struck a few times, and Harold desperately rushed to the finish line.
"22! 23!..."
Harold crossed the finish line and rushed into the arms of Aubrey who was waiting there.
He succeeded.
The exhausted young earl was five yards behind and broke down as soon as he reached the finish line.
Harold put on a spring and autumn coat and rushed to help him up-from then on, the two of them became known as Harold and Andy (Note 4), and a race made them close friends for life-the crowd consisted of two Applauded. The champagne bottle popped open, the wine poured out, and the two runners each took a gulp. Harold shook Andy's hand gratefully. He has always been able to run faster with competition. Then he raised the bottle and waved to the crowd. He has become a cheerful person again, which is the role he usually plays in front of his classmates. But Aubrey was still thinking about his last-minute struggle. At that time, his whole body and mind seemed to be focused on a life-and-death goal-defeating the big clock. Is this the real Harold? What if he loses?
The dean of Trinity College, who was sitting high above the two runners, closed the window and blocked the cheers.
The dean of Caius College sipped sherry and asked, "Did both of them outperform?"
"It doesn't seem to be. Lindsay lost one strand of hair."
"pity."
"Finally someone ran away—it's from Caius College again. You must be very proud."
"Yes. Of course it is. It's a pity..." The dean of Caius College hesitated to say something, without revealing his true feelings.
"You would rather he be an Englishman. In any case, whether it is a Hebrew or not, we have just witnessed a historic competitive initiative. The first person in 700 years. Maybe. They are indeed God's chosen people (Note 5)." He raised the glass of sherry. "A toast to Abrahams!" He looked down and saw Harold, with a stern face, without a smile, slowly passing the crowd tapping his shoulder. "I doubt anyone in the entire kingdom can run faster than him."
However, he was wrong.
two
On the Scottish highlands far away from Cambridge, the May Festival is being celebrated at this time. This is a traditional folk festival where music, dance, and sports performances and competitions are held as usual. The most eye-catching thing this year is a young blond man.
His name is Eric Liddell, a student of natural sciences at the University of Edinburgh, and a well-known Scottish football player. Eric was born in China, where his father worked as a missionary, and later sent him back to Scotland for education. His ideal is to be a missionary, but he shows fast speed in playing football, so admirers try to persuade him to train hard, become a track and field athlete, represent Scotland in international competitions, and compete with other countries.
The May Festival is held in the mountains of the northernmost plateau in Scotland. At this time, the mountains are green and the scenery is beautiful. As soon as Eric arrived, he was surrounded by many children who admired him and asked him to sign as a memento. He is gentle and humble, responsive, and caring for every child. Behind him, bagpipes sounded on the grassy hillside, and according to the traditional custom, swords were crossed on the ground, and people sang and danced back and forth across the swords.
There was a young girl, less than twenty years old, looking at Eric with restless eyes. This is his sister Jenny. Her expression was solemn and reserved, and she was a bit out of place with the noisy and giggling highland people around her. Jenny worried that Eric's rising reputation as an athlete would affect his true lifelong career-spreading the gospel of God to the world. She hates Eric's college friend Sandy McGrath the most. This ruddy-faced man with red hair is Eric's informal coach. It was he who wanted Eric to take part in the closing race of the May Festival.
Jenny once said to Sandy unceremoniously: "Eric has had enough things, and you have to drag him into the race."
Sandy McGrath answered patiently: "I just told him to try."
"Sandy, you and I know Eric as well. He does everything he can." Jane watched Eric chatting with a group of young admirers. "He has to get a degree, he has to play football, and he has to serve the church. He is already too busy to do anything else."
But Sandy McGrath strongly objected: "He runs very fast, Jenny, very fast. You can't take him away. Get him on the track, just give him a little technical guidance, and he will create A miracle comes."
"I Jane borrowed from Eric the way he is now... I don't want him to change anymore. I don't want to see him be fascinated by his rhetoric about the race."
Sandy, the burly and kind, was silent. He has had this conversation with Jenny more than once. Jenny didn't treat Eric like a sister, but a wife or mother. She didn't listen to Sandy's explanation, but Sandy insisted that Eric had to run, even if she angered Jenny. He believes that Eric has a rare genius that cannot be spoiled in vain.
They watched Eric give prizes to the winners of the children's race. He was also invited to speak to the children. He stared down at his feet, copied his hand behind his back, and typed the draft. After a while, he faced the men and women gathered on the grassy slope and began to speak. His voice was calm and firm.
He said: "When our family was still in China, when my father talked about the'small house in my hometown in the mountains and ditch', he made a poem."
The highland Scots were triumphant.
Eric smiled and continued: "I was born in China, so it is inevitable that I am half-believing. But now I look around and look at these heather bushes and mountains. I know that my earlier suspicions were wrong. Scotland is indeed better than anything else. Place is special."
His words moved the audience. There was some applause and cheers from the crowd.
Eric went on to say: "Thank you for welcoming our family back home. Thank you for reminding me that I am a Scot and will always be a Scot."
The warm applause lasted for a long time. Sandy McGrath seized this opportunity and said to Jenny: "You should persuade Eric to participate in the 200-yard obstacle race and let us all see his high speed."
Jenny gave Sandy an angrily, but Sandy pretended not to know. The crowd continued to cheer. Eric noticed Jenny's reaction and hesitated. The cheers continued, and everyone wanted to witness the unbelievably high speed that had been rumored for a long time. Finally, Eric glanced at Jenny helplessly, knowing she would not forgive, and agreed to run away.
The local people in the race lined up waiting for him. Eric unbuttoned his tie calmly, took off his tweed suit top, and was about to run in a shirt and suit trousers. He showed the appearance of a full-fledged amateur athlete. He smiled at the other players and waved at Jenny, but Jenny deliberately turned his head away.
Starting gunshots sounded in the high mountains and empty valleys. At first, Eric was invisible in the crowd. However, he suddenly rushed out with an incredible bursting speed. There was a cry of surprise from the crowd. Eric ran out of order—his feet were raised too high, his arms under his shoulders swayed wildly, and his head leaned back—but the incorrect posture did not affect his speed. He easily surpassed a few leading players and plunged into the final sprint. His arms were spinning, and his head was almost leaning back on his shoulders. This is completely sturdy, like a wild horse running wildly, it is stunned to see it. Before Eric reached the finish line, the crowd had already yelled out loudly.
Sandy McGrath hurried over to congratulate him, but Jenny turned and walked away with his head down.
***
Eric's parents will return to China soon, but they plan to leave Eric and Jenny behind to complete their studies. At dinner, Sandy suggested a toast to Eric's parents.
Sandy said: "I wish you all the best. I wish you a happy and happy years in China, and receive God's blessing. For those who remain, may God bless them and encourage them,"-at this point, he paused After a moment, he stared at Eric across the table—"and guided them to honor."
Jenny glared at him. Her mother said, "Thank you, Sandy, you said so well. I count on you to look after them and be safe."
Jenny murmured for more potatoes, and hurriedly left the room. Her mother noticed that she was in a bad mood and motioned to Eric to go out to see what was going on.
Eric asked calmly, "What's wrong, Jenny? Maybe you don't want me to be nosy?"
She retorted and said: "It's not all because of you. You are now playing the role of a big star just like people in American movies."
"Did you upset just because I participated in the race yesterday?"
"I'm not blaming you, Eric. It was Sandy who forced you to participate. You have no choice but to participate. I begged him again and again to ask him not to haunt you."
Eric put his hands on her shoulders lightly and looked into her eyes. "Listen, Jenny. Sandy is the captain in the university. Sport is his life. He was very happy to watch us race yesterday. There is no harm in the race. You can't blame Sandy for making me run. I am. Very happy to run."
"Sports may be Sandy's life, but what is your life, Eric? This is my concern."
"Don't worry about it, Jenny. Just play around, nothing else."
"It's not just for fun, Eric, you don't think so in your heart. You have to be honest with me. How much time can you leave to God?"
It is not easy to answer this question. Jenny's father understood Jenny's feelings, but afterwards he had a conversation with his son at a table in front of the fireplace, showing that he still sympathized with his son.
He said to Eric: "You are a lucky young man, Eric. You are brilliant and proud, and you have a sacred responsibility to make good use of your genius. You know, God will not give you geniuses casually. You Can run very fast, but God will not be happy to let you use this kind of genius just to chase the bus."
Eric said: "Jenny is right about the timing issue. It takes time to practice racing, and you can't take care of everything."
"Do you have any numbers in your mind, Eric."
Eric replied in a hurry: "During the race yesterday, I had a feeling of passing by, as if I had accumulated infinite strength. This is a feeling I have never had before. Sandy estimates that it will not be this month. , I will be able to represent Scotland in the competition, and I am afraid I will go further and further from now on."
"What do you mean," his father asked.
"Maybe able to participate in the Olympics."
"Anyone, even if they cut potatoes, as long as they cut them perfectly, they can shine on God. You can race in the name of God... Let the world be convinced."
"What about Jenny?"
"Don't worry. When she sees your name on the headline of the newspaper, the problem will be solved."
Eric smiled thoughtfully. He also wished that his sister could be won so easily by him, but he knew how stubborn his sister was. Besides, she might still be right after all.
***
Eric finally accepted his father's advice. He began to train in a formal and serious manner, with Sandy McGrath as his informal coach. He goes to the mountains every day to run, not only exercise speed but also cultivate endurance. He ran along the mountainside trail, with a light pace and steady speed, but an awkward posture. When others see it, they may mistakenly think it is a deer avoiding the hunter. Every time he participates in a competition, he feels even more that he has great power. He was already famous for playing football, and was then selected to represent Scotland in the race. On the English side of the border, runners talked about his incredible speed and quirky posture. He is called "Scottish Scud". Before long, Harold Abrahams in Cambridge also heard about Eric's success and high speed record. Harold concluded that "Scottish Scud" is a future competitor.
***
Harold was already competing in various international games at this time. The England team he belongs to was facing fierce competition from the Dutch team in track and field. His long jump and hurdle jump performances are very good, but his main interest is in the 100-meter sprint. He intends to prove that he is the fastest man in the world at the next Olympics.
Harold's reputation has spread out of Cambridge and is widely known. Therefore, he has a special place in university life. He is no longer a Jew Abrahams, but a sprinter Abrahams. He was walking on the streets of Cambridge, and the children would stop him and ask him to sign as a souvenir, which made him proud. But what he never forgets is the Olympic Games to be held in Paris next year. Among the British track and field athletes, only "Scottish Scud" Eric Liddell can compete with him. He wants to defeat Eric before selecting the British team for the Olympics.
Once, Eric represented Scotland in an international game against France, and Harold made a special trip to Edinburgh to watch him run. Eric naturally has weaknesses. Others have also told him that the Scotsman’s skills are flawed. However, his track tactics have been very successful. Like Harold, he has maintained an undefeated record.
Harold watched the players line up, preparing to run a 440-yard race. He recognized Eric at a glance based on the photos in the newspaper. He was surprised when he watched the young Scottish youth wait for the start, relaxed and not irritable. Eric even wished the French athletes good luck in French. In Harold's mind, a grand race must have an incompatible fighting spirit, and Eric seems to lack this spirit. But his record is the most telling thing: he is a winner. Harold stared at the calm and calm Eric from the audience, thinking in his heart: Once we meet, he will become a loser. For Harold, defeating opponents is more important than ever. He needs to win. He couldn't wish his opponent luck like Eric did, and likewise, he couldn't imagine that he would lose.
The venue where the competition was held that day was a slightly modified football field. All equipment was rudimentary and simple, including scoreboards and spectator stands. Players do not have their own track, and those who live in the inner circle take a big advantage. Harold is wondering: Eric's starting position is in the outer ring, and I don't know how he intends to solve this problem.
As soon as the gunfire rang, the players rushed away. A French player took the lead, and Eric followed closely behind. When he caught up to level off, the French player stabbed him with the elbow and pushed him out of the track. Eric was caught off guard, staggered a few steps, and fell onto the grass. The vast Scottish audience saw their hero fall and was in an uproar. Harold also leaned forward, utterly shocked. He felt that coming to Edinburgh was completely in vain. Eric can no longer perform. For him, the game is over.
But Harold was wrong. In the eyes of the audience, Eric has been lying face up on the grass for a long time, but only a few seconds. At this time, the other players had already run far along the track. However, Eric seemed to have a sudden surge of power, penetrated his whole body, and made him come back to life suddenly. He jumped up, onto the track, and chased the other players. The audience applauded his courage, but he was so far behind that he could never catch up again. However, Eric was not discouraged. He ran like a demon: his head leaned back, his feet beat the ground frantically, and his arms moved with the force of his whole body. It still looks hopeless, but he is gradually closing the gap. At this time, the other athletes were still 20 yards ahead. Then there were only 19, 18, 17... Eric did not relax and kept closing the gap. Seeing him catch up and pass the few people running behind. By the last section of the runway, he had jumped to fourth place, only about 10 yards behind the leading Frenchman who knocked him off the runway.
The audience shouted and cheered him up. Harold sat on the edge of the chair, marveling at Eric's superb running skills. It seemed that it was impossible for him to close the 10-yard gap, but he saw his head tilted back harder, his arms raised higher, and his two legs flashed across the ground. When he was 40 yards from the finish line, he had jumped into third place, but he seemed to be breaking down. He tried his best to pant with his mouth wide open. Despite this, he did not relax. Then, he took a new force from somewhere in his body and jumped to second place. The audience stood up excitedly. He might win, and indeed might win.
Eric finally rushed to the head, 2 yards ahead of the Frenchman. He succeeded in crossing the line, but he fell exhausted into the arms of the Games staff. People half lifted and half helped him to the side of the runway, gently laying down on the grass. He closed his eyes and partially lost consciousness. He put all his energy into it. At this time, he could hardly hear the loud cheers of his fellow Scottish compatriots.
A thin man knelt down beside Eric. He was wearing generous clothes and a straw hat crookedly. His name is Sam Mosabini, he is an Italian and Arab hybrid, and may be the best sprint coach in Europe. Mossabini has a unique training method, coupled with his contempt for the layman's practices in sports, making him a person of controversy.
At this time he told everyone to step back to keep the air around Eric circulating. He massaged Eric's abdomen with proficient technique. Eric had difficulty breathing at first, then slowly came over, and his eyes half opened.
Sam said softly, "Mr. Liddell, although the quarter mile is not the most beautiful run in my life, it is the most heroic run."
Eric smiled feebly. Sandy McGrath pushed away from the crowd, leaning over to look at him. He was relieved to see that Eric was still conscious.
"Great run, Eric, great. You will be fine soon."
Sam said, "You have to take care of this young man, Mr. McGrath. If you ruin him, you won't find him so good. Help him up."
Sam and Sandy both helped Eric to stand.
Sandy helped Eric through the cheering crowd. Sam also applauded with everyone.
"Mr. Mosabini." Someone yelled from behind Sam.
It turned out to be Harold.
Sam was slightly surprised. "Oh, I didn't expect, aren't you Mr. Abrahams?"
"I came to see you and Liddell from Cambridge. I heard that you both are croaking."
Sam smiled slyly and asked, "Then what do you mean now?"
"To Eric Liddell? I have never seen a player with his vigor and dedication-he ran like a beast, and it was distraught."
"It's true. He can make people dizzy with fright."
"Yes. I hope you can help me so that I can compete with him." Harold said calmly.
Sam fumbled his hands in his pockets as he searched for a match to light a cigarette; he carefully observed the powerful young man in front of him.
"Are you married, Mr. Abrahams?"
"No. Why do you ask?"
"When the girl you like comes, what do you think if you ask this question to you? You know, Mr. Abrahams, the coach should ask this question, just as the groom usually asks for it."
"Mr. Mosabini," Harold pleaded with the little man with eager eyes, "I can run very fast. With your help, I think I can run faster, maybe it will get in the way. Faster than anyone so far. I will win an Olympic gold medal to prove that I am good." Obviously, Harold has condensed all his feelings in this sentence. Except for his friend Aubrey Montagu, he has never been so conceited and telling others. He understands that he must treat Sam Mosabini openly and honestly, or he can't count on his help at all. "I can see an Olympic gold medal waiting for me... However, I can't get it with my own strength."
Sam took a few puffs of cigarettes. "There is an old saying in our business: What God has not given, we cannot impose. You wait for me to decide, Mr. Abrahams. I will look at you, observe you, and once I think I can help, I do think there is a The prize is hanging there waiting for you, then, please believe me, I will come right away. I hope that when we meet next time, it will be me who insists on pleading."
"So, you will be watching me?" Harold asked calmly.
"My child, as long as you can get your results, I will disassemble you into parts and study them carefully."
Harold said "Thank you" sincerely. He couldn't expect this little man in a straw hat to say anything else. He must first run out of grades. He will compete with Eric Liddell without Sam's guidance. He recalled the Scot's extraordinary resilience and the unbelievable sprint that allowed him to catch up to 20 yards. That person must have a lion-like heart. Although his running is poor, he still wins. The strength and fighting spirit in that Scot surpassed any athlete he had ever seen. It seems that great efforts are needed to defeat him.
Harold's eyes shone with confidence. He has never been defeated. After a long journey, he was naturally unwilling to be defeated by Eric Liddell. The two of them should play as early as possible and divide up and down as soon as possible, the sooner the better.
three
Aubrey Montague was worried. His friend Harold put everything aside and just raced. He doesn't care about his studies and other activities in the university, he just wants to exercise his body in order to achieve the highest speed, so as to defeat Eric Liddell.
When Aubrey saw Harold practicing a quicker starting position, he thought to himself: For Harold, that Scottish track athlete is now the kind he will fight with in the world. The general representative of power. The pale yellow-haired and humble Eric believes in Christianity and has no ideological burden. When racing, everything is natural; while his competitor Harold is the opposite. Harold's skin and hair are dark and he has a strong sense of self-defense. For Harold, defeating Eric would be equivalent to defeating the entire upper class that tried to exclude him. Although this is unfair to Eric, Harold needs to connect the race with his deepest personal feelings in order to give full play to his fighting spirit.
Harold was always thinking about defeating Eric, almost to the point of fascination. Aubrey felt that this mental state was abnormal, so when he and Andy and some other classmates decided to go to London for a wild weekend, he urged Harold to go for a break. Harold was not interested at first, saying that he didn't have time, but Aubrey argued with him that he was too nervous to work and not play, which was not good for the race. Taking a break would not affect his muscles and mental state. There are benefits. Harold agreed unexpectedly, and even arranged the organization of the London trip, and he had the final say. He is so personal.
The climax of this trip was to go to the Savoy Theater, where Doilly Carty’s Gilbert and Sullivan operas are being performed. They were dressed in formal dresses-tuxedos and black bow ties-sitting in a special box, taking turns using the telescope to look at the beautiful soprano who is the heroine. They all fell in love with her, but no one could do anything, except for Harold. During the intermission, everyone stayed in the bar, but he walked away alone, saying that he would be back soon.
Andy blinked and said, "It turns out that the stone-hearted boy is also very fragile. Abrahams can't hold his breath."
"Why can't you stay calm? It's almost lost his head. He didn't listen to persuasion, so he went to see her." Aubrey said.
"Good job!" Andy said as he paid for a glass of champagne for each person. "Come on, you will carry Harold's glass. He may have to be refreshed when he comes back."
After a while, Harold came back. He raised the wine glass that Aubrey had handed over and said:
"Happy everyone!"
Everyone looked at Harold curiously, but he remained calm. Later, Andy couldn't hold it anymore.
"How's it going?"
Harold asked, "What's going on?"
"Did you talk to her?"
"Say it." He looked quite proud.
"What did she say?"
, She accepted my invitation to invite her to dinner. "
"have dinner?!"
Andy is obviously mixed, and everyone else is the same. Harold felt the need to explain.
"She has heard my name. She has a little brother who is a sports fan. She said her brother nags me all day long."
Everyone raised their champagne glasses to toast to him, and he responded with a happy smile. He was so proud as if he had won in a race. Aubrey thought to himself: Harold must show a strong desire to compete in his private life.
***
The young and beautiful soprano singer is named Sybil Gordon. She has dark skin, a slender figure, and bright and cute eyes. The restaurant she loved that she introduced to Harold was near the Savoy Theatre. The foreman of the waiter there knew her and quickly found them a quiet table away from the crowd. After seeing the list and ordering food, Sybil stared at the tall young athlete sitting across the table: he was refreshed, and he was full of confidence.
"You don't look cold and ruthless." Sybil said.
"Should I do that?"
"According to my brother, it is because you are cruel and ruthless that you can win many battles." She leaned back and looked at the handsome partner. "Why are you racing?"
Harold also imitated her curious tone and asked: "Why do you sing?"
"This is my job... No, it is unscientific to say that. I sing because I love to sing. Do you love racing?"
"I'm addicted and can't help it. And it's still a weapon."
"Whose weapon against?"
"Probably because I am a Jew."
Sybil smiled.
"Aren't you kidding me?"
"You are not a Jew, otherwise you wouldn't ask like that."
"Nonsense! Who cares about this. Anyway, you are a Jew and you are not at a loss."
"I call myself an involuntary person," Harold replied.
"It sounds playful, but what do you mean?"
"It means they took me to the water's edge, but they didn't let me drink."
Sybil leaned toward him across the table, staring at each other.
"You are such a weird person, Mr. Harold Abrahams. Weird and charming."
"I'm satisfied as long as I'm charming."
Harold put his hand on the table, Sybil put his hand on his. "Life isn't so gloomy yet, is it?"
"It's not gloomy tonight. You are so beautiful."
She squeezed Harold's hand. "Thank you."
Harold deliberately told her to fall. He stroked her hand tenderly, their eyes staring at each other. Forget the magnificent and lively surroundings, even the food and drink. Harold felt that Sybil had a good impression of him, and his self-confidence increased. This young and beautiful female singer has so many people chasing her. If Bai Ji can win her favor, then there is nothing that the world can't do, even defeating Eric Liddell.
***
The huge-scale track and field sports meeting is finally ready, and many people in the British Isles call it the first competition of the twentieth century.
Eric, known as the "Scottish Scud", happened to take the "Scottish Scud" train to London. Various newspapers wrote articles about this coincidence.
He was honored as a guest of honor on this famous express train.
When the train arrived at Kings Cross Station in central London, the conductor came to his sleeping room to greet him, and handed him the morning paper of the day, which published his photo in a prominent position.
The conductor said cheerfully: "According to various reports, everyone is counting on a major breakthrough."
"Really?" Eric said, rubbing his sleepy eyes.
For a game to be so noisy, he thought it was a little funny. And what would Jenny say?
Before leaving, the conductor said: "Sir, don't worry, you have one hour left. I wish you luck this afternoon."
"Thank you." Eric flipped the newspaper to the sports column, then spread it on the table.
Eric read: "'Scottish Scud' came south against the Cambridge elite. Abrahams said:'I am fully prepared.'"
Eric said in his heart: Well, Mr. Abrahams, the Scots are also fully prepared.
***
Track games are part of the All-British Games, and outstanding players will definitely be absorbed into the Olympic national team.
There are so many famous competitors in the large collective dressing room, and everyone is so close, it is inevitable that there is a feeling of tension. However, the places arranged for the two most famous opponents are located at both ends of the room. No one speaks to them. The atmosphere in the room is serious and depressing. From this it can be seen that the mood of the players at this time is as if everyone's nerves are very tight, their voices are also very low, and their speeches are polite, so as not to irritate each other.
Harold has also receded from the past, as if there was no one around him. He opened the suitcase and carefully took out the neatly packed things. Although his nerves were also very tense, he was calm on the surface, like a surgeon taking out medical instruments and preparing for a routine operation. He took out the things in the same way and put them away. First take out the sweatshirt, shorts and towel, then take out the spiked shoes-the shoes are polished brightly, and each nail is covered with a cork. Then there was the shiny little shovel he used to dig up the running pit. Then there are the kind of sweaters worn by hockey players and sports jackets with academy logos printed on them. Finally, a variety of body oils.
Aubrey looked at him, he stopped talking. Harold was fully focused before the game, and anyone stroking him, even a close friend like Aubrey, would make him angry. He was even more isolated from others before this game, because this was the last test before the Olympics.
On the opposite side of the dressing room, Eric put on his sweatshirt with the Edinburgh University logo, as calm and free as ever, and didn't even glance at Harold. In accordance with the prevailing ethos, he turned up the collar of the sports jacket and hurriedly combed his hair. Afterwards, he stared at Harold with a calm expression, and walked slowly across the room.
Everyone was talking in low voices, but now they became silent. People are waiting for these two outstanding opponents to meet. When Eric approached, Harold was leaning over the small suitcase, seemingly unaware of what was going on.
"Are you Mr. Abrahams?"
Harold looked up nonchalantly.
"Mr. Liddell."
Two outstanding track athletes each looked at each other with respect.
Eric said: "I wish you every success."
"Thank you. I wish the best player win." Harold replied, shaking hands with Eric.
***
Sybil Gordon was also among thousands of excited audiences, but Harold didn't even think about her at this time. In the next few minutes, he felt that there were only two people in the world-Abrahams (No. 30) and Liddell (No. 14). He must make his best effort today to run faster than ever before.
He stood up almost imperceptibly and dug the starting pit. He stared at Eric intently, as if trying to peer into the Scotsman's thoughts. Both people are in excellent physical condition, so the victory or defeat of the 100-meter race depends not only on their competitive state, but also on their temperaments. No matter who it is, if the body is exhausted or there is a moment of hesitation, the other person will win. Harold has been looking forward to this game for many weeks, training for it, and torturing himself for it. If he wants to defeat Eric in one fell swoop, he must beat him in one fell swoop.
Harold thought: Eric was too calm. If I hadn't witnessed Eric running by myself, I would have thought he was too indifferent to look at him. The race is a bit tight in order to reach its full potential and show its edge-at least Harold had always thought that before meeting Eric.
"Everywhere!"
One by one, the audience in the stadium leaned forward.
"preparation!"
The starter raised the starting gun. Harold felt himself like an arrow, and he was able to fly away when he was ordered. He tried his best to forget Eric and the other four players, and focused his attention completely.
The gunfire rang.
Harold was like an off-string arrow, but Eric was not ashamed. At first, they were on par, but later Eric took the lead, and Harold followed closely behind by only one shoulder.
Harold used his full potential and wanted to surpass Eric in one fell swoop. In the past, he tried time and again, always able to catch up, no one can match.
However, just as Harold desperately ran out of the fastest speed, Eric leaned his head back, turned his arms, and rushed out 1 foot, clearly leading. Harold's hard work met his opponent.
Harold was furious and disbelieved, and gave Eric a sideways glance. This glimpse completely lost his hope of winning: his attention was distracted and his momentum was lost.
Eric's mind, body, and soul are closely coordinated and coordinated. He put his opponents completely behind his head, full of confidence, and rushed to the line first, just like a man with a demon.
Harold followed closely, although it was only one step away, there was a huge difference.
His face was painful, unbelievable.
He actually lost. The nightmare became a reality.
It was Eric, not him, who won the championship. Eric defeated him.
He lost. He couldn't accept it. He once said to Aubrey: I have never lost. He once believed that he would never lose. However, now he lost.
What was only possible has finally happened.
***
When the game was over, Harold sat in the empty stadium for an hour, recalling the course of the game, as if this might change the result of the game. He recalled the scene of the final sprint time and time again, but the result was always the same.
You really shouldn't squint at Eric. He actually lost faith in himself.
When Sybil found him, he was staring at the runway in a daze. She looked at him anxiously. Harold in front of her was like a stranger she hadn't seen before—a Harold who lost her confidence, and a Harold who was defeated. She felt concerned and frowned on her beautiful face. She felt that she must try to help Harold, help him recover from his nightmare failure. On the surface, he was victorious and therefore vulnerable to injury, and his self-esteem took a heavy blow. What did Harold say when he talked about the race last time? Race is a "weapon". The weapon failed today. It won't help to show sympathy to him. You have to use the radical method.
"Harold! Harold!" she yelled as she approached, "It's too shameless. You just lost a game, not a relative. No one died."
Harold didn't answer. Seeing that, it's possible that he didn't hear it at all. His silence made Sybil upset, and she was not used to being left out in the cold. She felt that she was closed door.
"My God, Harold, don't be emotional. You are like a child."
He said painfully: "I lost."
"I know. I was there and saw it all, did you forget?" She put her hand on Harold's arm, trying to touch him. "It's a good run. You're a good run, but he runs better, that's it." Seeing that Harold didn't respond, she withdrew her hand. She cannot treat him like a child. "Today the best player won."
This sentence stimulated Harold. He said slowly and seemingly to himself: "I couldn't help but look at him. It shouldn't be."
"He is ahead and you can't catch up. It's entirely natural that he wins you."
"I'm done. I can't run anymore."
"Since you can't afford to lose, then it might be better not to run."
Harold said impatiently: "I don't take part in the race to lose to others. I do it to win. If I can't win, I won't run."
Sybil said sharply: "You can't win without running." She suddenly became angry at Harold. "Call me when you figure it out." Then she turned and walked away.
Harold shouted, "Sybil, don't go. I don't know how to do it."
"Grow up quickly."
"please……"
Harold's desperate tone moved her and made her come back.
She said softly: "Harold, you are a great man. You run like a god. I am proud of you. Don't let me be irritable for you."
"It's not just because you lost, Sybi (Note 6)." He closed his eyes and wanted to explain to her. "Eric Liddell is an outstanding man and an outstanding athlete. The problem is with me. I have tried so hard or I have lost. Now God knows what I should aim for next?"
"The goal is to beat him next time."
The situation of the game flashed through Harold's mind once again: he went all out, but Eric could not only keep pace with him, but also rush to the front.
"Sybil, I can't run faster."
This is a desperate cry from the bottom of my heart.
At this time someone intervened and said, "Excuse me, but I have a different opinion. I can help you speed up by 2 yards."
This is Sam Mosabini. He was standing under the audience stage, smiling while holding a cigar. He raised his hand to touch the brim of his hat to pay tribute to Sybil.
Harold slowly understood the meaning of what Sam said, and stood up.
Although Harold underperformed, the outstanding coach agreed to train with him.
Speed up by 2 yards-that's enough to beat Eric.
He still has a glimmer of hope.
Four
Sam Mosabini immediately began to guide Harold's training. He put a slideshow to let Harold observe how other excellent sprinters ran, so as to help Harold regain his confidence in a subtle way.
A slide was being shown on the wall of Harold's dormitory at Caius College, and Harold carefully studied the different faces of his competitors. Sam introduced them one by one by the side:
"This is Charlie Paddack, California Cannonball... the fastest man in the world. The 100-meter winner of the 1920 Antwerp Olympics. Time-10 seconds 3."
Sam pointed to another face. "Jackson Schultz, New York Raiden... Second place in the 1920 Olympics. I lost because I peeked to the right." Sam inserted another slide. "This is the final sprint. You can see Patak surpassing Schultz and heading towards the finish line. Schultz lost because of a peek. In fact, Schultz is the fastest runner."
"10 seconds 3-no, 10 seconds 4." Harold corrected himself.
Sam put on another slide and smiled slyly. A familia
View more about Chariots of Fire reviews
