David Caldwell and St. Albans in South Charleston, WV

October 8, 2009

Tonight, Caldwell is paying the St. Albans coach and team back for his borrowed practices by coming to the first annual Stan Smith Invitational Memorial Track Meet. Given that it's the first meet to be held at the high school's modest track, it's more obscure and smaller (five teams) than the name might suggest. Caldwell is coming for the purpose -- it's said -- of pacing Caleb Ellis in the 3200m.

Ellis is a senior at St. Albans who, due to injuries and a late entry into the sport, hasn't had a full track season until this year. He works hard and has been among the top five high-schoolers in the state in the 1600m and 3200m this year, but his coach, Henley, senses some psychological barriers. Ellis has never gone under 10:00 in the 3200m. Caldwell, his rival next door, just finished third in a regional competition in Columbia, S. C., in 9:29. Caldwell will sign somewhere in Division I. Ellis is being courted by Division II and III colleges.

After you've been close to middle and high school sports for a while, you come to expect that people will often not do what they say or what's said that they'll do, especially where that would be to someone else's advantage. You come instead to believe that the athletes -- even those on your own team -- will act strictly in their own self-interests and do nothing to help anyone else to an advantage, even where such help would not threaten to injure or diminish their own prospects. You come to believe that these kids -- who are young and in some respects unspoiled -- have been instructed in detail in the how and why of selfish behavior when it comes to varsity sports.

When I hear that Caldwell is coming to the meet for some reason other than to blow everybody else away, I think to myself, "I'll believe it when I see it."

This is what I see.

Caldwell shows for the meet. About halfway into it, I notice him, across the field, going through some of his warm-ups, distinctive and now familiar to me. His coach is here, too, and when the call comes for the 3200m, Caldwell lines up with Ellis and the few others in the meager field. I'm standing near the starting line with the coach from Marietta College, who is there scouting Ellis.

It's a raw and blustery day, and I'm anxious for Ellis; I try making small talk with the Marietta coach who has driven two hours and missed another, more important, regional meet to be here. "It is too bad it is so cold and windy," I say. "It could affect his time." The coach answers that the temperature is really almost perfect for distance running and begins to explain why runners last longer in cooler weather. He also says that the wind will not be a factor. "Little bursts like these might affect sprint times, but they will mean almost nothing over this distance," he says.

The gun fires and before they are out of the first turn, it's already a two-man race. Some of the kids in this race have probably never run a 3200m before, others seem to wish they had been picked for other events. But the boring labor of the pack only serves to emphasize the fact that Caldwell and Ellis are in a completely different league. They're running. When they end the first lap I can hear Henley's shouts as the two runners pass, almost side by side -- far ahead of the rest of the pack. He looks at his stopwatch and yells, "Perfect. You are right on it!" Then, at the end of the second lap, "You're under! You're under! Keep it up!"

When the two pass the halfway point and enter the fifth lap, both the Marietta coach and Henley say almost the same thing, almost at the same time: This is the toughest part-- the fifth and sixth laps are the toughest, psychologically. Ellis is 5 yards back of Caldwell now, still holding on, but when they enter the sixth lap, Ellis begins to fade. Henley is screaming at Ellis now to hang on, to close the gap, to tie a rope.

In the far turn I see Caldwell do something I've never seen him do. This young man -- the machine -- knows about economy of effort. He wastes nothing, not even the energy it would take to smile or frown. But now he turns his head and faces backward to Ellis, and, while pushing a pace that only one or two high-schoolers in the state could manage, he yells at Ellis to push it, keep it up, to not give in . The few folks in the stands, who don't know of the coaches' agreement and are too far away to hear what Caldwell's saying, think he's taunting Ellis.

The plan had been for Caldwell to drop out in the sixth lap. Although the time they're running will improve Ellis' standing dramatically -- as it would that of almost any other runner in the state -- it would dilute Caldwell's average. He doesn't want to finish. But, with Ellis lagging, Caldwell stays in the race, and through the seventh lap turns time and again to Ellis and motions him on with his arm. During the seventh lap, Ellis seems to find something and closes the gap. The Marietta coach tells me, "He'll finish under. It's just a question of how far under, now." I'm ecstatic.