Starting gun at the Penn Relays can cause some blank stares

THERE IS a constant, monotonous mantra emanating from the microphones on the infield near the starting line.

On your mark, set . . .

Then a familiar sound fills the air. The muffled blast of a starter's pistol, crackling over a loudspeaker erupts again and again and again. The Penn Relays runners brace for it but it does not scare them. That reaction came earlier in their track careers.

I know because I have been firing blanks for decades as a starter at CYO meets. It's scary enough for the kids to look at me, a tall man with a full gray beard, wearing giant red earphones and holding a gun in the air at the end of an arm in an orange sleeve.

The bright color is to provide a contrast against the blue sky for the hand-timers, looking for smoke at the end of the 100 meters. They see the white discharge and click before the sound reaches their ears. Hopefully they don't have fat, slow thumbs.

The kids at once hate the sound and love the gun. They have the same two questions.

Is that a real gun? Can I shoot it?

The answers are no and no.

I started a meet a few weeks ago and as I raised the gun for a 200 heat, a fourth-grade boy put both hands over his ears, notching an obvious dent in his explosion off the line. It also had me shaking my head because he is on the team I coach. It was the first meet in his short life. By the time he gets to the Penn Relays that should be corrected.

Meanwhile, when I am in civilian duds sans earphones and walk among the people, I often run into kids from the various Philly Catholic grade schools who don't know my name but clearly recognize me and shout:

"Hey, it's the guy with the gun."

Let's hope that never happens in an airport.