Yemi blasted out of the starting blocks like a lit rocket. I followed suit. The others pursued. As was his style before racing, Yemi's collar was up and his yellow shirt was tucked out over his green shorts. His shirt was floating on his back as he majestically glided through the air. It was like Moses' rod parting the red sea.
I matched him stride for stride. At this point it had essentially become a two-man race. Most watchers on the day, including the selectors must have been surprised at this stage that someone was still in the race with Yemi.
Yemi was focused on his race. I wasn't. I was still in awe of the grace and speed at which he moved. I was now at a vantage position to observe from close quarters his prowess and as a fanboy, I was mesmerised. Great athletes have the ability to block out the noise come game time and rise to the occasion. Yemi was no exception this day.
He suddenly kicked his legs and found another gear. I could hear the gasp from the crowd. He accelerated so quickly towards the finish line that it seemed like a fisherman reeling in a big catch.
At this point, I was happy for the race to end. An inner voice was already consoling me that I had put in my best and that there was no shame in coming second to the great Yemi after all. As I dilly dallied, the gap was getting wider and I was losing ground.
"Yemi! Yemi! Yemi!" I heard the cheer leaders chant.
Amidst the din, I heard someone scream "Damiiiiiiii...!" It must have been either Romario or Wole Ogunnika. It was the kick I needed to jolt me out of my dream world. I remembered Romario's prior boast to someone in 1Y ..."Damilola will beat your Yemi". The inner voice that had consoled me by saying I had put in my best was disingenuous. I knew I hadn't put in my best up to that point that day. I was busier admiring a shiny star than focusing and running my own race. I was happy flying under the radar and not showing my true potential.
The easy option would have been to maintain my second position. So, I chose to do the hard.
I cut out the noise, decided to grit my teeth and tried to find another gear. Or at least I hoped I had another. Yemi had found his and I was running out of distance to the finish line.
Thus, began the race of my life. One leg, after the other, giant strides, repeated in quick successions. Hands opened flat, arms going back and forth, head straight. Just like Carl Lewis did it! I darted for the finish line. I didn't care what was happening around me. I was going for it.
I heard the gasps again. This time, the chants had petered out. You could feel the tension in the air. Yemi soon realised what had just happened - he was now in a race. I had reeled him back in and level pegging. I knew he would respond in kind and I didn't have to wait long for his response.
He kicked again and found another gear. I focused on my own race. Yemi was now trailing me for the first time in the race. He kicked again more in desperation but the gap kept getting wider. Now two people were chanting my name on the side line. Soon I was at the touching distance of the finish line. As the enormity of what was about to happen got to me, my muscles tightened up and my legs buckled slightly.
Another gasp! Is he going to fall now at the final hurdle? Everyone watching must have thought.
I told myself, "I am not going to lose this race now", held myself up by sheer determination and ran through the finish line. Yemi came through shortly, followed seconds later by the other sprinters. We were all given some glucose for our effort. Yemi made a quick eye contact with me, smiled, then nodded and with that he was gone. Just like that. The race was over.
Yemi went on later to represent St John's house at 100m and won the bronze medal.
And I...?
Well, let us say I found a different calling. Let's leave that story for another day.
In all, I learnt a great lesson that day of self-belief, focus, friendship, never to be afraid to shine, striving for excellence, never giving up and doing it all with great humility. Also, I get to relive and retell this story to my kids as a teaching lesson of winning against the odds. My claim to fame :)
It's always the quiet ones I hear you say? Well, there was another chap in 1U those days. He was quiet, affable and showed little interest in athletics. While everyone in our first year set was raving about the athletic prowess of the Energys, Yemis and Irunmus, he stayed under the radar and in his lane. No one recognised his talent that early but he ultimately became the greatest of them all. He knew his time would come and bided his time. Boy oh boy, did his time come!
I came back to my class 1U, basking under the captaincy of Patani, the day after the race and a few people had already heard about the events of the afternoon before. The quiet chap in my class must have also heard as he came up to me and uttered the words "Well done Dami" to me with an admiring smile before going back to what he was doing.
His name? OLUFUNSHO GIWA.
We all know how that went down.
THE END.
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