Mascot Madness! Read Online Free PDF

yougo around saying that, you’ll be sorry.’
    â€˜Why, what are you going to do?’ Gretel challenged. ‘Tell The Boa?’
    â€˜I might just do that,’ said Fred, turning and walking away.
    â€˜Yeah,’ said Clive, trotting after him. ‘He might just do that.’

17
The winners’ podium

    Even if we had a new mascot, we still had to go to the same old sports class. The next morning we were sitting outside on the oval while Mr Grunt called the roll.
    When he finished, he put down his clipboard and gave us a bug-eyed stare. ‘In case you’ve forgotten,’ he said, ‘the Northwest interschool athletics competition will soon be upon us.’
    None of us, of course, had forgotten.
    â€˜Now,’ continued Mr Grunt, ‘in the unlikely event that any of you losers actually wins an event on the day, you are going to need to know how to stand on a winners’ podium without falling off. Do any of you even know what a winners’ podium is?’
    Fiona put up her hand. ‘It’s a set of three blocks, sir, of varying height. The winner stands on the highest block in the centre. The second place-getter stands on a lower block on the winner’sright and the third place-getter stands on another lower block on the winner’s left. Just like the one behind you, sir.’
    â€˜Very good, Fiona,’ said Mr Grunt. ‘What a pity your legs don’t work as fast as your brain.’
    Fiona looked outraged. But she didn’t dare say anything.
    Mr Grunt went on with his lecture. ‘Now, you might think that climbing up onto one of these is a simple matter, but it’s not as easy as it looks. Even someone as experienced at winning as I am can occasionally stumble. I remember when I once won a gold medal for something or other—there’ve been so many I can barely remember them all . . .’
    I rolled my eyes. Mr Grunt was off on another story about his past sporting glories.
    â€˜. . . as I went to mount the block, the roar of the crowd momentarily disoriented me and I stumbled. Luckily, thanks to my excellent reflexes and finely honed sense of balance, I was able to recover instantly, averting what could have turned a sporting triumph into nothing more than a highlight on a sporting bloopers show.’
    Clive laughed.
    â€˜Something funny, Durkin?’ said Mr Grunt.
    â€˜I like bloopers shows,’ said Clive, still chuckling.
    â€˜Well, that doesn’t surprise me,’ said Mr Grunt.‘Bloopers shows are full of losers making mistakes for the amusement of other losers.’
    Clive stopped laughing. ‘I’m telling my brother you said that,’ he muttered.
    Mr Grunt ignored him. ‘So, since none of you have my great reflexes and finely honed sense of balance, we are going to spend this lesson practising how to mount and stand on a winners’ podium without falling off.’ He looked around for a suitable victim. ‘Hooton, you’re first up.’
    Newton looked worried. ‘I’d rather not, sir,’ he said. ‘I’m scared of heights.’
    â€˜All the more reason to get up there,’ said Mr Grunt. ‘Fear is your enemy! Obliterate it. Pound it into submission. Show it who’s boss.’
    â€˜Why are you always picking on Newton?’ said Jenny.
    â€˜I’m not picking on him,’ said Mr Grunt. ‘I’m offering him an opportunity to feel like a winner.’
    â€˜Could I just stand on one of the lower blocks, please?’ said Newton, pointing to the third-place block.
    â€˜Certainly not,’ said Mr Grunt. ‘Third place is no place for a winner.’
    â€˜What about second?’ said Newton.
    â€˜No! Second place is just another word for first loser,’ said Grunt. ‘Get up there, boy. Show me that you’re not as pathetic as you look.’
    Newton rose to his feet unsteadily. Jenny squeezed his hand. ‘Go