English docccc - Paying Attention Essay - Sunday at the Track PDF

Preview

Summary

Paying Attention Essay - Sunday at the Track...

Description

ENG101 Sunday at the Track My careful observations of the atmosphere at a motocross race showed me many aspects of how diverse this kind of environment is. There are countless numbers of ways that a person can interpret this setting based on the behavior and appearance they possess. It is a sunny, warm Sunday at the track. The scene is energetic and easy going, as well as competitive and fierce. There are kids playing with remote control cars and parents catching up with other parents. Most boys already have their gear on and ready for the races. Some are stretching, others are warming up their dirt bikes by revving them up or riding them around their rigs. By rigs, I mean little trailers that hold one small dirt bike to huge RVs that could cost anywhere over eighty thousand dollars and contain some major racing equipment. It isn’t hard to tell which boys came in the big rigs. Their bikes are completely rebuilt with expensive parts and decorated with decals of their sponsors. The gear they wear is top of the line in style and protection. They have an aurora of arrogance that beams in all directions around them. You can see it when they speak, in the way that they walk, and most definitely in the way that they ride. I have always wondered, can money buy fame? Can money buy a kid’s childhood and coerce them into making this a lifelong commitment if they can make it that far? Also, can money buy the race? So far, the answer I have found is yes. These boys seem happy. However, are they actually happy with the sport or are they happy with the winning and praise they receive? Money can buy trainers and supped up bikes, but whether or not it can buy a child’s happiness is questionable. Most boys are thrown into the

sport when they are less than 5 years old. It just so happened that the boys 7 and under were up first today. Kids as young as the age of 4 are manipulated to try out the sport in full contact, not alone. It isn’t much of a solitary practice as most of these children haven’t been doing this long at all. They line up at the gate with their fathers. When the gate drops, the little boys take off around the first corner. Some fall off when trying to make it up jumps while others practically clear them with ease. Just like many other sports, I can easily tell the difference between someone who has been practicing and someone who hasn’t. It’s easy to tell the kids apart by their abilities and even by their fathers yelling things at them as they pass by. When they cross the finish line one by one, you can see the excitement on their faces, or in some cases, the sheer fear. The ones who placed first and soon after would raise a hand or stand up while looking around at the spectators during their ride off the track. They rode back to their happy, proud parents and hugged them with confidence. The ones who finished closer to last place rode off rather quietly, with their heads down. It seemed to me as if their confidence was shot; they felt like the place they came in. This makes me upset for them because these kids shouldn’t be ashamed for trying their hardest. As these youngsters complete their laps and make it across the finish line in one piece, the bigger boys come out on bikes that are easily 5 times the size and power of the smaller bikes. These boys’ ages range from sixteen to thirty and plus. Though there are different classes for separate skill levels, age ranges, and bike sizes, the goal is the same; to win. The noise dramatically increases as more bikes enter the track to begin. They line up behind the gate and wait the allotted amount of time before it drops. When the gate drops, the noise from all the bikes goes up in a roar and drowns out any side conversations or music in the background. Upon looking around, many people are intently watching their loved ones or friends in hopes they can

take the lead. I can tell who has a family member on the track by the way they watch and the nervous mannerisms they take on. Tapping feet, fingernail biting, and nervous pacing occupied most of the women spectators around me. I could assume that their sons or husbands were out in the bunch somewhere and they were trying not to have a breakdown. If anyone happens to be observing me, they could probably tell I was an emotional wreck myself. I’m trying to study other people but keep a constant eye on the rider I came to support. He is in the lead until the second lap, where he gets passed around the corner. A moment passes and my rider is coming in fast behind him. My heart stops for a hot minute as people gasp around me, hoping there is no conflict. He passes the fallen rider without going down. My rider takes the lead again and keeps it to the finish line. As I meet up with him after the race, he is worn out and dripping in sweat. He is humble, not saying anything about how well he raced or how happy he is that he won, even though I know he was proud and glad. He talked about dirt getting stuck in his throat and how he was tired. Not one good word about himself did he flaunt or mention. However, he gratefully said “thank you,” and went back to catching his breath. This happens every time. He doesn’t have the confidence to go out there every single time and know exactly why he wins. He doesn’t win and have the confidence to be proud of it. He truly is never happy with a first place or a champion title. He just accepts it. On this day, he just accepted his win instead of embracing it as a victory. When everyone else was ecstatic and arrogant over their wins, he was having a mental battle with himself over everything he could have done better. As everyone gets packed up to leave, goodbyes are exchanged and trophies are collected. It’s been a fantastic day for some good racing. Boys who raced close against each other push and play around, laughing and joking about what they could have done better. As I begin to close my

notebook, I look up to my rider holding his well-earned trophy. First place and the biggest trophy there. I look over at his trailer; it’s a decent size. I look at his gear and his bike. His gear is normal and commonly owned and his bike is close to top of the line, but not quite. I think hard about this because some people pull their kids out of school to race because they have the money. His family is middle class with the same struggle as every other family. They simply don’t have money to pull him out of school, however, he beat kids that belong to families that do. This answers a big question of mine. Money can’t buy raw skills, and it can’t assure you a win either. My short observation Sunday at the track was altogether eye opening and a relief. Any time my rider comes off the track in one piece is a good day. I looked back at my findings that night and realized that I would not have noticed what sensitive sport motocross is. I found that it’s a special, fragile sport and it’s all or nothing. What hit me the most is understanding my rider’s view on his sport. It was rewarding to get into his brain and see what was causing him to act the way he did. A humble victory is better than a selfish one; that’s something everyone can learn from....