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Maplewood was quiet — every villager knew each other.
An old refrigerator rusted behind the store.
Most people lived conservative lives, but one thing could attract everyone — sport.
The excitement begun when Maplewood was chosen to host the Regional Sports Festival.
Children yelled with joy.
At the center was Jake, sixteen, in worn sneakers.
His sister Lily lived with him; their parents had moved to England, and their absence hurt.
But Jake had talent — a gift for every sport.
Every morning at the gym, Jake wore his shorts and drilled with trainer Coach Harris, a former champion who'd won a goldmedal in wrestling.
The polite coach wore a neck brace from an old injury.
"This is your chance to rise," he said, praising Jake's speed, strength, and movement on the track.
Jake was no scholar, but extraordinary athletically.
He could swim faster than anyone in the swimmingpool, his swimming technique nearly perfect.
He could run a marathon without stopping.
In P.E. class, he loved football, soccer, basketball, and volleyball.
He could wrestle and even box.
But he ignored a bad toothache and a lung issue from ski training — being crazy about sports meant pushing through.
The stadium filled daily.
The principal would address everyone: "This festival is only about showing what we can do." Jake signed up for five events: the 400-meter race, tennis, tabletennis (or ping-pong), badminton, and baseball.
He was also backup player for basketball.
His friend Maria, a fierce fan with a wicked spin serve, was his tennis partner.
One Saturday they practiced in an alley behind the warehouse.
Jake swung the bat so hard the ball crashed through Mrs. Patterson's window, nearly hitting her stove and a cassettle of soup.
She brought delicious cookies instead of yelling.
Ridiculous situation!
That evening, Jake spotted a thief near the equipment shed and chased him — his speed was too much.
He caught the man near the water tower base.
The police chief thanked him personally; the thief had no license.
But stolen gear was a minor disaster.
Jake kicked the dust in frustration.
"Don't forget why we're doing this," Lily said on the porch, the modem humming inside.
At the festival, balloons floated overhead.
Jake won the 400-meter race — legs moving like a wheel, every second counting.
He and Maria won tennis doubles.
He lost tabletennis but shook hands: "Good game." He dominated badminton.
The final was baseball.
Maplewood was down by one.
Jake hit a heavy fastball over the fence — a home run!
He rounded the bases as the crowd went wild.
That night, villagers celebrated.
Sports could unite people.
Jake thought about his parents in England, his grandfather's burial, the memory of learning to swim with his dad.
He promised never to obey doubt, always to gain strength.
The National Athletics Federation selected him for camp — a rare privilege.
The letter mentioned radioactive monitoring, but Jake didn't hesitate.
"I'll find my way back," he whispered.