Almighty Coach

Chapter 383: Qualifier

Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

On the main stands, Lopez tapped his knee lightly with his fingers.

400m qualifiers. A total of 39 registered contestants, divided into five groups. Only 12 people can advance to the next round. The top two of each group and two third-placed contestants from the two best-performing groups.

Lopez's lips curled upwards inadvertently as he thought of this, a proud look appearing on his face.

Blade warrior? Heh, your group consists of the strongest seven athletes in the qualifier. You've already been eliminated! In a moment, you'll look like a stooge, left far behind everyone else. Bullsh*t blade warrior, go and become the stooge warrior that you should be!

At that moment, the athletes participating in the 400m sprint appeared from the exit tunnel and moved onto the field.

"Scott, we've been put in the group of death this time. Jim Oliver and Rudy Jackson are both in our group. I'm afraid it's the end for me," said the contestant Marcus Garcia with a short sigh.

"Garcia, if you perform well, making it through shouldn't be a problem. As for me, I'm probably the weakest in the group! I might seriously get last place," another contestant, Sam Scott said.

"That's impossible. Don't be too pessimistic, and don't you forget, there's still the blade warrior in our group!" Garcia said with a laugh.

"Who's the blade warrior?" Scott did not immediately get what he meant.

"It's that guy called Barron Phillip, don't you know him? He's a para-athlete, no legs, wears a prosthesis to run. He's also the world record holder for three separate events in his disability class," Garcia explained.

Scott showed an expression of sudden realization. "Now that you mention it, I do know him. I've heard of him on the news. There was a 'Barron Phillip' in the contestant name list of our group, is that him? But he has no legs, is he seriously going to participate in a race for normal people?"

"I know, right?" Garcia grinned. "I didn't think of it when I first saw his name too. I thought it was a new contestant. It was only later, after checking, that I found out he was the 'blade warrior' of Los Angeles!"

Garcia suddenly lowered his voice to a whisper. "And I heard that several contestants in our group don't have a good impression of this blade warrior!"

"Well, of course, I don't want to compete against a disabled person either!" Scott said with a hint of fury. "Although I have nothing against disabled people, to compete against him on the same field, I feel ridiculed. I am a professional athlete!"

"That's right! To win against a disabled person brings no sense of achievement, and it might even seem like bullying. However, if we lose, it would be a huge disgrace… Heh heh, I'm ridiculous, how could we lose to a disabled person!" Garcia said with a scowl.

　　...

Phillip left the athlete's tunnel. His black-colored Flex-Foot Cheetah prosthesis immediately attracted the attention of many onlookers.

"What is that man wearing? Is that a sports prosthesis? It really is a sports prosthesis. That man hasn't got any legs. Oh my God, that's a disabled person, is he here to participate?"

"How is that possible? This is a race for able-bodied people, why is there a disabled person in it!"

"I recognize that guy. He's the 'blade warrior' from Los Angeles. The world's fastest disabled person."

"Blade warrior? So he's that blade warrior! I saw a news report about him. Is he here to compete?"

"He's disabled, how is it possible for him to compete in a competition for normal people? You think too much."

"But he's got his sportswear on, and there's even a number on his back! Only contestants have a number. He's really here to compete."

It was just a qualifier, so the number of spectators was limited. However, the moment Phillip appeared, the sound of discussions sounded throughout the stadium.

The eight contestants of the first group each headed towards the field. After around a minute of preparation, they dashed forward upon the sound of the gunshot.

Running 400 meters only took around 45 seconds. Including the time used for pre-match preparation and post-match statistics, the total time for a group race was only around three minutes. And because all the strongest contestants had been put into Phillip's group, the standard of the other groups had become weaker. So, after the first group finished, the result was not that great.

The same thing happened in the second and third group. The results of the athletes were all beyond 45 seconds. After three groups, with a total of 24 contestants had finished their races, no one had finished the race in 45 seconds.

From the 24 athletes, six had advanced to the official match. According to the rules, the top two of each group could advance, and apart from that, the top three from the two best-performing groups would also advance.

When the contestants of the fourth group appeared, Phillip was also standing on the track.

"It's finally the fourth group's turn. In the 400m sprint qualifier today, group four is the one with the most prospect. This is the group of death; I reckon the third-placed contestant will also advance."

"Jim Oliver, Rudy Jackson, Marcus Garcia, Sam Scott, Joe Christian… If they were in the other groups, they would have surely advanced. What a shame to have all of them together. Some of them are fated to be eliminated."

"Look, guys, that 'blade warrior' from Los Angeles is also in the group!"

"Where did he find this sort of courage, to actually participate in a competition for normal people. And he sure has bad luck, being put in this group of death. I hope that his self-esteem doesn't get crushed in the race!"

The few athletes who had successfully qualified huddled together and discussed in a low voice.

On the race track, Jim Oliver was put on track number three. For a 400m race, it was a decent track position.

As he warmed up his joints, he looked around and thought about how there were no new faces within the group. Everyone was a veteran of the 400m sprint. For Oliver, every face was a familiar one.

All except Phillip, who was assigned to the outermost track.

Upon looking at Phillip and his black-colored sports prosthesis, Oliver grew more and more annoyed.

I really don't understand why he wants to come here to show his ignorance. A disabled person should just compete in a competition for disabled people, he shouldn't come here to blend in. Oliver sighed with a face full of disdain. Then, he prepared himself for the start of the race.

Oliver was very strong. Even with all the athletes in the qualifier, he was among the best. Since he was put in the group of death, though, he did not dare to take things lightly.

However, Oliver was not willing to waste any attention on a disabled person like Phillip.

The other contestants within the group also took Phillip lightly. To them, Phillip was something else, something not worthy of their recognition. Every contestant, heck, every athlete within the stadium felt that Phillip, who was placed on the outermost track, would be left behind very quickly.

The outermost track was a very bad track for a 400m sprint. In a 400m race, the further out an athlete was, the further front he was as well. That meant it was difficult for the athlete to observe the positions of his opponents. In contrast, the athlete on the innermost track would be the furthest back; this athlete would easily know the positions of all his opponents just by looking right. For this reason, in a 400m sprint, the second and third tracks were considered the best tracks, since the athletes could easily observe their opponents.

The other seven contestants could observe Phillip's situation during the race. On the other hand, Phillip could barely observe the opponent situated beside him, while the athletes on the inner tracks were completely out of his field of vision.

　　...

The starter signaled for everyone to get ready. Following that, he lifted the starter pistol in his hand.

All the other contestants were in a crouch start position; only Phillip was in a standing start position. Since he was wearing a prosthesis on each leg, there was no way for him to be in a crouch start position.

Bang!

The gunshot that signaled the start of the race rang. Everyone dashed forward at the same time.

The sporadic cheers from the stands were a reminder to everyone that the race was only a qualifier. The commentator also did a poor job, as there was no excitement in the narration. The atmosphere of the race was a tad bit cold.

In the first 100 meter bend, Phillip was still somewhat in a leading position, and in the track on his left, which was the second outermost track, was the athlete called Sam Scott.

In this group of death, Scott did not have that much advantage when it came to capability. However, he was in great form that day. After the race started, he immediately got into the zone.

Blade warrior, your start was way too slow, looks like I'll be able to surpass you in this first bend! Scott looked towards Phillip, who was in front of him. He could clearly feel that the distance between the two of them was getting shorter.

For the spectators, the act of surpassing another contestant was the most exciting and most entertaining part of a sports race. For an athlete, passing an opponent was also an exciting and enjoyable act, one that brought a great sense of achievement. The essence of a sports race was to surpass everyone else, to rush, and be at the front.

In the 400m sprint, because the starting positions of the contestants were different, even if one were to keep his pace with the opponent on his right, it would still mean that he was in a leading position.

Closer. Even closer. I'll be passing you soon! Scott was getting impatient, since he was very eager to catch up and run beside Phillip, and savor the surprised look on Phillip's face.

On the stands, Lopez tilted his legs, looking contented.

Already almost caught by his opponent in the first bend. Such a big gap. That's the first time in today's race! The result was already decided, and you still made so much trouble. Heh, so what if I let you compete in the qualifiers; you'll still get last place!

Lopez couldn't help but laugh in contempt as he thought of that.

　　...

I'll be caught up soon! This thought had bloomed inside Scott's mind.

However, as Scott went into the straight track, Phillip was still in front of him. Only then did Scott realize that the distance between Phillip and himself was not continuing to decrease.

What's going on? Why can't I catch up to him? It can't be that this cripple is running as fast as me? Scott finally realized.