“This is going to be a close race, a damn close race!”
The excited tension of the commentary swirled in his mind. He closed his eyes, feeling the adrenaline accentuate each throb of his heart, his solid, contoured legs preparing for their biggest workout yet. The sound of the starting gun ripped through his thoughts and as he ran, time became the enemy.
Lunging over the finish line, the roar of the crowd slowly came to him, and as he decelerated he stole a glance at the electronic timer.
9.99.
The world stopped around him. Had he truly broken the ten-second barrier for the 100m sprint? He refused to believe it. These new technologies, always playing up when they were needed the most. But as he slowed down to a stop, dumbstruck, he heard the omnipresence of the commentary once more.
“He …show more content…
The camera was focused on a tall, black man with the word ‘Bolt’ on his identification card attached to his singlet. Superimposed on this image was a list of past winners of the 100m sprint in the Olympics, with their times. Bryant excitedly scanned the list, and gave a saddened sigh when he reached the bottom. The list went from 2004 down to 1960. He had truly become outdated. He was a forgotten god. Time had defeated him...
9.69.
Bryant smiled weakly as he experienced the familiarity of the scene before him. Bolt in the centre of the stadium dancing with joy, and the spectators orbiting him, cheering. But he was alone, an insignificant speck in the emptiness around him, respected and awed by the distant crowd. He was their god. What did that man give up for glory? How long would it be before he too was forgotten? Bryant saw Bolt kiss the gold medal that hung around his neck, and gently caressed his own behind his back.
“Nurse, could you stay with me, for a little while longer?”
She paused. “Of course I
The excited tension of the commentary swirled in his mind. He closed his eyes, feeling the adrenaline accentuate each throb of his heart, his solid, contoured legs preparing for their biggest workout yet. The sound of the starting gun ripped through his thoughts and as he ran, time became the enemy.
Lunging over the finish line, the roar of the crowd slowly came to him, and as he decelerated he stole a glance at the electronic timer.
9.99.
The world stopped around him. Had he truly broken the ten-second barrier for the 100m sprint? He refused to believe it. These new technologies, always playing up when they were needed the most. But as he slowed down to a stop, dumbstruck, he heard the omnipresence of the commentary once more.
“He …show more content…
The camera was focused on a tall, black man with the word ‘Bolt’ on his identification card attached to his singlet. Superimposed on this image was a list of past winners of the 100m sprint in the Olympics, with their times. Bryant excitedly scanned the list, and gave a saddened sigh when he reached the bottom. The list went from 2004 down to 1960. He had truly become outdated. He was a forgotten god. Time had defeated him...
9.69.
Bryant smiled weakly as he experienced the familiarity of the scene before him. Bolt in the centre of the stadium dancing with joy, and the spectators orbiting him, cheering. But he was alone, an insignificant speck in the emptiness around him, respected and awed by the distant crowd. He was their god. What did that man give up for glory? How long would it be before he too was forgotten? Bryant saw Bolt kiss the gold medal that hung around his neck, and gently caressed his own behind his back.
“Nurse, could you stay with me, for a little while longer?”
She paused. “Of course I