Sports Camp

by Rich Wallace

  187 points still up for grabs!

  Tonight’s winner will score 30 points for his cabin, with the runner-up gaining 25 and third place nabbing 20. The top fifteen places count.

  Here’s the allocation, starting with first place:

  30 25 20 18 16 14 12 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3

  Who’s got the Camp Olympia spirit?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Truly Olympian

  In the minutes before the race, Riley couldn’t keep still. Steady your breathing, he kept telling himself, but it was no use.

  He glanced around the dock at the other swimmers. Duncan Alvarez looked so strong and confident. Why wouldn’t he? He’d won this race last summer and was the overwhelming favorite to repeat.

  And then there were guys like Danny Avila and Avery Moretti. They looked like men compared to Riley, with muscular shoulders and square jaws and scowls.

  Riley’s own teammates were equally quiet. Vinnie was pacing the dock; Tony was sitting with his legs dangling in the water, rapidly drumming his thighs with his fists. Eldon and Colin looked scared.

  A counselor picked up a megaphone and said, “Two minutes, boys. Any physical contact with another swimmer will mean immediate disqualification. There are counselors in rowboats about every hundred meters.” He gestured toward the water. There was a long string of boats leading all the way to the totem pole. “If you get in trouble, just raise your arms overhead and tread water. There are roving canoes out there, too, so you’ll be rescued within seconds. Any questions?”

  No one said anything.

  Riley shut his eyes and took a few deep breaths. His fingers were tingling from nervousness, and sweat was dripping down his face. He unwrapped his orange headband from his wrist and pulled it down toward his ears.

  Suck it up, he thought. This is what you’ve been working toward. You want this.

  He stared across the lake. There was more of a breeze tonight, but nothing much to speak of. It’d be in their faces on the way out. The sun was setting behind them, but there’d be plenty of light for at least another hour.

  “Go, Cabin Three!” Barry hollered from the shore. The non-swimmers weren’t allowed on the dock until the race was under way.

  “Do it up, Kelvin!” came another shout. The spectators all began yelling.

  The counselor stepped to the side of the dock and raised his arm. “Ready,” he said. “Get set.” He blew his whistle sharply and Riley and the others dove off the dock.

  His urge to sprint was almost uncontrollable, but that would be lethal at this point. Settle down, he thought. This race was almost twice as long as the trials.

  Riley stayed with the crawl in the early going, knowing that he could switch to the breaststroke whenever he needed a breather. For now, he needed to stay in contact with the pack.

  He could already tell that some swimmers were starting too fast. Within a minute he was twenty meters behind the leader, and only three swimmers were in back of him. But the biggest group was just a few strokes ahead, including Vinnie and Tony.

  “That’s Avery Moretti with the early lead,” came an announcement over the loudspeaker. “The defending champion is right with him.”

  The water in front of Riley was all churned up by the many kicking feet. He counted nine swimmers immediately ahead of him, spread out over four or five meters. Colin was just to Riley’s left, and basketball star Johnny Rios was to his right.

  You’re in contention, Riley thought. Long way to go. Be patient.

  He decided to shut out the distractions for a few minutes and just swim comfortably before assessing whether to make a move. So he put his head down and moved steadily, counting fifty strokes with each arm before looking ahead.

  Rios remained beside him, and the line of swimmers in front had stretched out a bit. Moretti appeared to be holding on to the lead, but Alvarez was still with him. There was a small gap to the next group of three and then a bigger space, and all but those five leaders were still within striking distance.

  Vinnie and Tony were in that next group. Riley and Rios were eleventh and twelfth at the moment, but they were just a couple of strokes ahead of Colin and the next bunch.

  You’re way ahead of last time, he thought. No puking in the water tonight.

  By the time they reached the yellow buoy where they’d turned around in the trials, Riley and Rios had joined the large group that included Vinnie and Tony. There were eight of them now. Everyone looked steady; no one was struggling yet. He was the smallest one in this pack by far.

  They were still about a quarter mile from the midpoint of the race. The five swimmers out front were way ahead of them.

  Nearly everybody in Riley’s group had finished at least a minute faster than he had in the qualifying heats. Now he was right here with them, and he was feeling great. He knew he was riding the edge and that fatigue could overtake him anytime, but he’d never wanted anything more than to hang in there and beat some of these people.

  He switched to the breaststroke for a few minutes, steadying his breathing. Everyone was swimming hard, but no one was making any decisive moves just yet. It was a battle of endurance for now.

  Before long he heard another announcement: “Moretti continues to lead at the midpoint, with Alvarez a body length behind. Both swimmers are well under record pace.”

  As the leaders passed him heading for home, Riley counted the seconds between them and the next group of three. There was at least a twenty-second gap. Kelvin Dawkins was right in the mix.

  That trio was a good minute ahead of Riley’s pack, which still included eight swimmers. Several of them picked up the pace as they neared the turnaround point. Riley swung wide and passed Troy Hiller and Omar Ventura, moving into tenth for the moment.

  Homestretch, Riley thought. Halfway there! Top ten is yours for the taking.

  The next group was coming toward them now, still heading for the turn. Riley looked for his teammates. He spotted Colin in a pack of four. Eldon had moved up and joined him. They were more than a minute behind Riley but very much in contention for some points.

  “Cabin Three!” Riley called.

  “Looking good!” Eldon yelled back.

  The exchange with Eldon gave him a lift. Time to make a move, he thought. String out this pack and see who’s a real contender.

  He quickly found himself abreast of Vinnie and Tony. Vinnie looked shocked when he noticed Riley, but then he grinned. “Where’d you come from, Liston?”

  “I’ve been right behind you the whole race,” Riley said, his words coming in between puffs.

  “We can do this,” Tony said. “Big points if we hold these spots. More if we can pick off a few guys.”

  Cabin 2 teammates Ryan McDonald and Nigel Singh were just ahead of them, so the trio from Cabin 3 was sitting 8-9-10, with Johnny Rios a half stroke back. Ventura and Hiller were beginning to slip farther behind. It was a long way ahead to the leaders.

  Work with these guys, Riley told himself. Forget about the top five. The race is right here.

  If he could drop one more swimmer, he’d be assured of a top-ten finish. And despite being tired, he still felt awesome. No cramps, no pain. They were all doing the breaststroke now, saving energy for the final push.

  Fifteen more minutes and this would be over. Riley could already see the yellow buoy up ahead.

  The breeze had shifted and was blowing across the lake, coming from the swimmers’ left. A shadow to his right caught Riley’s attention, a darker spot in the water that seemed to be moving toward them.

  “Big Joe!” he said.

  Tony and Vinnie looked over. Riley tightened his stroke, bringing his arms closer to his body and his legs up to the surface. He watched the spot as he moved away from it.

  “Watch your toes,” Vinnie said, smiling.

  Whatever had been there was gone, but it had left Riley with a new surge of adrenaline. This lake really was magical. He could feel its energy coursing through him.

  Riley didn
’t buy Barry’s story about Maynard or those other ghosts haunting the lake. There was no negative energy in here—just a legendary giant snapper. A real one.

  By the time they reached the yellow buoy, they’d caught Singh and McDonald.

  “How you holding up?” Vinnie asked Riley.

  “Holding up great.”

  “Tony?”

  “I’m okay.”

  “Let’s drop these chumps,” Vinnie said. He put his head down and returned to the crawl. Riley and Tony did, too.

  They swam harder for about two minutes, staying together. When Riley looked back, McDonald was fifteen meters behind. But Rios and Singh were still in contention.

  This is it now, Riley thought. The ten hardest minutes of his life, but it’d be worth it. He could feel Big Joe’s presence, but he wasn’t scared. Just excited.

  He stayed tucked behind Vinnie and Tony, enduring as well as he could as the five swimmers churned through the water. He felt another surge of enthusiasm as Singh suddenly dropped off the pace.

  Rios stroked hard and pulled alongside Tony. He wasn’t yielding at all. Riley’d been with him since the opening seconds, but now Rios was pouring it on.

  Riley could see Barry and Hernando and the others up on the dock, about three hundred meters away. A lone swimmer was approaching the finish line, and a tight group of four was battling for the next places.

  Another announcement rang out over the lake: “Alvarez is way ahead of record pace. Let’s make some noise and bring him home!”

  So Moretti had faltered. Would he hold on for second? Riley couldn’t tell what was going on in the pack up ahead.

  Everyone in his group was straining now. Each stroke brought them closer.

  “Big points!” Vinnie gasped. “Hang in, Riley.”

  Riley’s arms were heavy now. His heart was pounding against his ribs.

  He glanced back quickly. Several swimmers were still within striking distance. Any letup would definitely cost him a few places.

  But no one was pulling away. Vinnie and Tony and Rios were still right there, an arm’s distance from him, hoping to reserve just enough strength for a kick. Riley knew he probably couldn’t out-sprint any of them over a very short distance. But maybe he could make them work just enough to exhaust them, to rob any kick they might have left.

  He’d been cautious enough. Now it was time to move. He counted twenty hard strokes with each arm, then popped his head up. He’d moved ahead, just a meter or so, but all three seemed to be breathing even harder. They’d had to work to keep up with him. Riley was in sixth place.

  Breathe, he told himself. Keep stroking.

  Again he surged. Another count of twenty. Still they were with him, but nobody was talking anymore.

  Now he could hear Barry yelling. He could see Patrick and Hernando pumping their fists, less than one hundred meters away.

  And just ahead in the water, struggling mightily, was a swimmer in a red headband. Moretti. He was perhaps twenty meters in front of Riley, but he’d had a gap of well over a minute not long before.

  One more surge, Riley thought. These guys would be going all out over the final fifty meters. He needed to build a lead.

  It hurt. It hurt worse than anything he’d ever experienced. But he’d never had so much at stake. This wasn’t about the team; it was about him.

  He inched ahead. The water was noisy now—Vinnie and Tony and Rios churning behind him, the spectators yelling, Riley’s own breath coming in loud, shallow huffs.

  “Sprint!” Was that Barry yelling or was it all in Riley’s head? It didn’t matter now. Sprinting was all he could do.

  Moretti was right there. Fifth place could be Riley’s. His arms and legs were burning now, his stomach muscles twitching.

  Everything, he yelled inside. Every ounce you’ve got!

  Moretti surged. Riley rose out of the water, reaching for the dock. His hands hit it first. He’d done it.

  He shut his eyes and sank beneath the water. When he emerged, he watched Tony and then Vinnie grab the next two spots.

  It took him forever to climb out of the water. Barry came over and smacked him on the shoulder. “Fantastic job, Night Crawler.”

  “Did we win it?” Riley gasped.

  “Too close to tell.”

  Riley smacked hands with Eldon, who had sprinted in for fifteenth, the final scoring position. Then he walked to the far end of the dock, away from everybody else.

  Twilight. Up the hill he could see smoke from the barbecue pit. Across the lake the totem pole was catching the dwindling rays of the sun. The last few swimmers were approaching the finish line, with several rowboats trailing behind.

  Maybe they’d won it; he’d know soon enough. A gold medal would be nice, but it would be nothing compared to fifth place in the Showdown. That he’d earned by himself. As an athlete.

  He’d come a long way since that qualifying race. To night he’d knocked off a dozen guys who were clearly expected to beat him.

  Riley took a last long look at the lake.

  Then he headed for the barbecue.

  Maybe next year he’d come back and win it all.

  CAMP OLYMPIA BULLETIN

  Final Edition

  Saturday, August 14

  CABIN 3 WINS BIG JOE TROPHY

  Late Surge by Swimmers Makes the Difference

  The Threshers ran up 49 points on the strength of four top-ten finishers in the Lake Surprise Showdown, moving from third place to the top of the standings in the final event of camp.

  Led by Riley Liston’s surprising fifth-place finish, the Threshers added points from Tony Maniglia (7th), Vinnie Kazmerski (8th), Colin Dugan (10th), and Eldon Johnson (15th).

  Duncan Alvarez defended his title, smashing the camp record in 36:54. Cabin 1 had the first two finishers and the last two.

  Final Big Joe Standings

  Cabin 3 171 points

  Cabin 4166

  Cabin 5 165

  Cabin 1 125

  Cabin 2 96

  Cabin 6 81

  Lake Surprise Showdown Results

  Duncan Alvarez (Cabin 1) 36:54

  Jerry Irwin (1) 38:31

  Kelvin Dawkins (4) 38:35

  Danny Avila (5) 38:37

  Riley Liston (3) 39:16

  Avery Moretti (6) 39:17

  Tony Maniglia (3) 39:21

  Vinnie Kazmerski (3) 39:22

  Johnny Rios (5) 39:24

  Colin Dugan (3) 40:35

  Nigel Singh (2) 40:37

  Ryan McDonald (2) 40:40

  Lionel Robertson (6) 41:01

  Omar Ventura (2) 41:48

  Eldon Johnson (3) 42:33

  Malik Rivera (4) 42:36

  Troy Hiller (6) 42:41

  Jorge Medina (1) 43:18

  Mark Shields (1) 43:22

  — Jason Sullivan (2) did not finish

  About the Author

  Rich Wallace is the acclaimed author of many books for young readers, including Perpetual Check; One Good Punch, an ALA-YALSA Best Book for Young Adults; Wrestling Sturbridge, an ALA Top Ten Best Book for Young Adults; and Shots on Goal, a Booklist Top 10 Youth Sports Book. At age eleven, he spent two weeks at Camp Aheka in New Jersey, where he swam a mile in Surprise Lake, home of a legendary giant snapping turtle named Big Joe.

  Rich Wallace lives in New Hampshire with his wife, author Sandra Neil Wallace. You can visit him on the Web at www.richwallacebooks.com.

  THIS IS A BORZOI BOOK PUBLISHED BY ALFRED A. KNOPF

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2010 by Rich Wallace

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alfred A. Knopf, an imprint of Random House Children’s Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  Knopf, Borzoi Books, and the colophon are registered tr
ademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Visit us on the Web! www.randomhouse.com/kids

  Educators and librarians, for a variety of teaching tools, visit us at www.randomhouse.com/teachers

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Wallace, Rich.

  Sports camp / Rich Wallace. — 1st ed.

  p. cm.

  Summary: Eleven-year-old Riley Liston tries to fit in at Camp Olympia, a summer sports camp where he is one of the youngest boys.

  eISBN: 978-0-375-89535-7

  [1. Camps—Fiction. 2. Sports—Fiction. 3. Competition (Psychology)—Fiction.] I. Title.

  PZ7.W15877Sp 2010

  [Fic]—dc22

  2009004278

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