“My first day of academic decathlon was not too inspiring. Our coach Mr. Smith began to hand out forms and materials that we needed to begin studying. He lectured us about how we needed to study hard and stay focused. It was so boring that I began to doodle on the materials that he had just given me. It didn’t matter to me about all the stupid things he kept saying about decathlon like, “The academic decathlon is nothing more but studying six months for ten subjects and taking a day full of tests. It is going to be very long and you have to stick it out.” I didn’t really listen. I had my goal in mind—to bring home a medal in the speech, essay or interview.
Over the next six months, I got to know Room 149 real good. Practices were long and boring. The summer practices were held from 1 till 5 p.m. every day after summer school. When school started back it was 4 till 9 p.m. and on Saturdays from 9 a.m. till 10 p.m. As a senior, practices were often difficult between classes, learning to drive, SATs, ACTs and college stuff. We couldn’t go on field trips, we barely had time to do our homework. My free time consisted of lunch with the boys—two other guys from the decathlon team.
I was hardly ever at home. My parents had to get out the photo album to remember what I looked like. My dad said I was killing myself, but I didn’t want to get lazy.
Every day at decathlon practice, we studied language, literature, math, science and the arts. We listened to the Villa Lobos Etude, studied what Chinese silkscreens looked like, viewed paintings by the Mexican artist Zapata, and studied supply-and-demand economics. We learned geography and which countries had the highest incomes.
For the Super Quiz, we studied computers inside out. We studied who invented computers and how they did it. We learned about binary systems, chip technologies and networks. We debated whether the government should censor the Internet.
Don’t get me wrong. We weren’t super-duper extra smart, even though people sometimes thought we were. Instead of thinking I was a dumb jock, people started asking me weird questions to see if I knew the answers. People asked us what RAM and ROM are and what computer viruses are. My dad wanted to know how many stars are in the sky.
I couldn’t study all the time
Crystal and I were the co-captains of the team, so we were supposed to take a leadership role. Crystal always reminded everybody to stay focused. To me, that was for the birds. I figured we all had different study habits. As long as we knew our stuff on Nov. 16, it was alright with me. But Mr. Smith didn’t like that attitude. He yelled at me for playing around and causing trouble, even if it wasn’t me that did it.
When he left to get something to eat, we would sneak and play video games on the computers in the back of the room, great games like “Duke Nukem3D,” “Quarterback Club,” “Full Court Press” and “Need for Speed.” Since we didn’t have sound on the computer, I’d make up my own sounds to go with it. My teammates told me I had been locked in the room too long, which was true.
Sometimes when we had to look at art slides, I’d go to sleep. It would be dark and quiet—perfect conditions. Sometimes we played baseball and basketball, using a balled-up piece of paper and a book. Sometimes we’d throw pens or candy at each other. Once we played hockey with a roach. One time, Charley and Jsani were horsing around, and Charley fell and broke his arm.
Another time the power went out, so we chased each other around the school and scared each other, popping out of hallways. Mr. Smith got mad that time, because he thought we might get hurt in the dark.
A lot of times, it was the girls against the guys. Once James stole Beautrina’s Reebok Classic and hid it in a locker. She started crying until he gave it back to her. She was pretty hot about that.
I remember one time in practice Erick, Jsani, Beautrina and I had a term paper due for our government class. Everyone finished except Beautrina. She got into trouble. She hadn’t procrastinated, but forgot to save her term paper on the computer before she turned it off. Little did she know that when you turn the computer off it erases your work. The following day, Beautrina had to re-type all 11 pages of her work.
One of the highlights of decathlon was when Smith went out to get us dinner. Good thing he did too, because I didn’t have time for breakfast, and usually all I had for lunch was toffee peanuts. But for dinner, I could look forward to MacDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell, etc. We ate so much fast food that Charley threw up Taco Bell so Mr. Smith wouldn’t buy it anymore.
Twice parents brought us dinners. At one, we had string beans, Spanish rice and baked chicken. The other was green chili, red chili and burritos. They were the only homecooked meals I had for six months.
As time wore on we grew more tired physically, more tired of each other and more anxious to end this thing once and for all. Decathlon was Nov. 16. And unlike football or other sports, you only get one day to prove yourself.
That morning we were all up early, and into our uniforms: navy blue blazers, with navy blue pants or pleated skirts, white shirts and skinny ties. We looked like secret service agents. As I walked into Manual Arts High, I was ready to get this show on the road. I felt like Sam Jackson in Pulp Fiction, mean and ready to shoot.
The oddest thing happened to me when I arrived at my assigned classroom. All of the seats in the front were taken so I sat in one that was the farthest in the row, away from everybody. Then I found out that was my assigned seat. Later I told my friend I was the only black in the class. And where did they put me? As far in the back as you could get. I joked with him that maybe I should have done like Rosa Parks.
During the tests, you’re separated from your teammates. We took eight of the 10 tests in a classroom. At two o’clock I finally did my thing—the speech. I did a speech on how I broke my ankle during basketball season but I was able to come back and play the last game.
At four o’clock we went to the Los Angeles Sports Arena for the Super Quiz, which was being televised on Channel 58, the district channel. Our supporters were there to cheer us on. Mr. Smith cheered so loudly and obnoxiously for us that he almost got kicked out of the Arena.
With the Super Quiz, it was finally over. We were congratulated by faculty and students and comforted with roses and balloons from our cheerleaders. The principal was there, students were there, even the yearbook advisor was there taking pictures. But most importantly we were relieved from the pressure and stress and happy that we could return back to our normal lives.
We had one more obligation—the Decathlon Banquet. Somehow James, Jsani and I got left behind at the school by our coach. I called the hotel and told security to tell Mr. Smith his house was on fire. He sent someone else to go get us, but we meanwhile got a ride from my brother. The rest of the team was there laughing, having a good time, so we sat at another table across from them. Our team came in 10th in the Super Quiz and 14th overall, but we didn’t get too many individual medals.
Then both me and James, the two main troublemakers on the team, won medals in speech—a bronze for me, a silver for James. We jumped up and down. We got interviewed on Channel 58. Mr. Smith got up and said, “Let me see the medal,” and we passed it around to everybody on the team. I still don’t think that medal means that much, but my dad won’t let that thing out of the house. Only way I can show it to somebody is to sneak it out.
It was kind of strange after decathlon was over. I was getting home when it was still light out. I’d just go to sleep or listen to the radio. It was like I got fired from my job and had nothing to do. Basketball and football might be more glamorous, but taking the decathlon gave me a chance to prove myself intellectually.”