"look dad there's that 'Joey' kid." I said. We were getting near the top of the chairlift.
"Where?" My dad asked.
"Right there." I pointed below the chair. Joey cut at an angle across the hill and spun a slow 360 degree spin from a the bump that had built up around a snow covered stump. From our aerial angle, it looked like he was floating through air. He stuck the landing with full control and his skis followed gravity's path straight toward the top of the race course, a few hundred meters below him.
My dad and I craned our necks to watch Joey. With a sense of authority he hockey-stopped next the the starting gate. He lifted his goggles up onto his head and slid his skis a tiny bit forward, right to the edge of the starting gate.
He pulled his goggles up and down a few times on his head, and then pressed them gently onto his face. He planted his ski poles in the snow in front of each wooden stake, which served as pillar's that held an invisible starting wand, like in real ski races. Joey lifted his skis one at a time to shake the snow from their top sheets.
He paused for less than a second and then with a lighting-fast explosion of energy, he burst out of the starting gate. With his entire body he sprung forward and down the steep pitch. He came close to the first gate and tucked his hands together. He pushed hard on his outer ski until it dug into the steep pitch.
The material on the shoulder of Joey's jacket ripped past the gate, cracking like a whip, which we heard as it echoed back to us.
"Wow, he's really fast." I said.
"Just watch." relied my dad.
He cut the opposite way, turning toward the next gate and made heavier contact as he passed it. His direction didn't change and as soon as he passed the gate he stood to begin his next turn.
"Tips up" My dad said.
"What?" I turned and we were about to unload from the chairlift. I raised the tips of my ski's but realized I had forgotten something, "My mittens." I said trying to turn and reach them, but I had already started coasting down the exit ramp of the chairlift.
"I got them." My dad said.
"Where are we going now?" I asked my dad as we descended down the tiny snow covered platform. I was ready for anything. Watching Joey had inspired me. I wanted to go fast like he had.
YOU ARE READING
Frost - #JustWriteIt #Sports
Short StoryMy father stepped into my bedroom and my body was still asleep, but when he spoke my mind was awoken. "Nick," he said from above, "did you hear me?" Both my eyes were still closed, "Yes Father." I answered. "Come eat." his hand touched my shoulder...
