As a journalist, I have had the chance to meet some remarkable people in different fields, but no one has impressed me more than Austin Riley.
Austin Riley is a race car driver. He has been attracting crowds to the race track for years. But his claim to fame isn’t just being fast on the speedway. He is overcoming difficulties on the track for those with disabilities. Riley has autism (自闭症). Simple tasks like tying his shoes are extremely complicated for him, but when put in a race car—a complex, delicate piece of machine —he will take you by surprise.
I first met Riley and his father Jason in 2014, in Uxbridge, Ontario, at the local go-cart track. I still remember how excited Riley was to have me and my cameraman there filming his every move. He was a go-cart racer then. He could barely talk to me, let alone look at me. No matter how quiet and shy he was, I knew this kid was going to be something big.
The go-cart track is where Riley’s racing career began. His dad, Jason, just wanted to give him something to focus his energy on. Riley has always loved cars. He has been crazy about them since he was a very young child. He also loves speed. The minute he hit the gas, his mind began to move fast and everything felt in sync(同步).
Riley’s journey on the track soon took him from fast go-carts to really fast cars. He became the first person with autism in Canada to get his race car licence. It opened up the track for Riley to drive in the big leagues — the Radical Motorsports circuit. Riley is now racing across North America, putting him on the podium(领奖台) almost every time.
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However, behind every success for Riley and his family is a story of hardship.
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When I was in high school a few years ago, I was an energetic and brave teenager. I loved smiling, writing, and doing sports, especially football.
One day, my football teammates and I took part in an important football game. After the game began, the ball was soon kicked in my direction. I received the ball and crossed it twenty feet toward the goal, just in time for my teammate to meet it and hit it right into the net. “Good shot!” everyone shouted. The game started well.
Later, the game became more and more challenging as the other team tied with our team. And in the second half of the game, the score was still one to one until I received the ball with one minute left. I needed to hit the ball into the net, and I had a successful try, making the final score two to one. But in the meantime, a bad thing happened.
In an attempt to block my shot, one player from the other team challenged me in midair. But instead of hitting the ball, his body happened to hit mine, while my teammates shouted cries of victory and horror at the same time.
When I woke up, I found myself lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by my family members, friends and teammates, with a great pain in my right leg. There were also doctors around me, who told me how serious my injuries were. To my surprise, I would have to undergo a very rare operation that had only been performed a limited number of times in the United States, and the success rate is only 50 percent.
After considering for a long time and getting the support of people around me, I decided to have the operation because I knew that no matter which way I chose, there would be many challenges waiting for me. Would I be able to return to school? What effect would it have on my social life, hobby or future? These questions took over my mind. However, only time would provide answers.
注意：
1. 续写词数应为150左右；
2. 请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
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A few days later, I underwent the operation.
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I decided to bravely face my bad luck that I lost control of my right leg.
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My dad and I had been looking forward to the Stale cross-country race of my senior year of high school, which would be the climax (顶点) of my existence.
I was the fastest runner on my team, and I was supposed to make it into the top fifteen. We had been working towards this race for three years. It was everything to me, and it was everything to my dad. He was a runner and was wild with joy by my success in running. He made it to every race, even flying home early from business trips to see me run. I always listened for his voice, which rang above the crowd-telling me to relax my arms, calling out my time. He pushed me. He cheered for me. He believed in me. We spent countless hours on the sandy canals of Arizona. Breathing in the dust of the desert, the blossoms of the orange trees, and the terrible smell of the dairy farm, we made our way across the city. We pounded miles and miles into our running shoes, marking with every step the path to greatness. It was a journey that was just ours. A dream passed on from one generation to the next.
Then the big day came. It was hotter than normal - too hot. My throat felt like a field of cotton, cracked with the summer heat, as I waited for the gun to fire. I gazed out at the crowd; dozens of familiar faces from church and school flickered across my view. They had come for me. They were counting on me. I saw my dad set his watch, worry and excitement etched across his face. With the sound of a gunshot, the race began.
For the first two and half miles, I felt great. I had never before been so ready for something. The weeks leading up to the race were filled with hard practices and a strict diet. The scorching sun beat upon my back, blinding me with its brilliance. Nothing was going to stop me, though.
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However, without warning, my strength was running out.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________I whispered, “I’m so sorry I disappointed you, Dad.”
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________When he was a boy, Marco was so shy. He always hid behind his hair, which he wore long around his face and cars. To make it worse, Marco was naturally shorter than the other kids. And because his good marks had allowed him to skip to the higher grade, he was younger than everyone else. This added nothing to his already low self-confidence.
Marco’s father was so busy with his work that Marco felt that his father had little time for him.
Except for his demands for excellent performances in school, communication didn’t exist. It seemed to Marco the only time his dad ever spoke to him was to be demanding or critical. Therefore, Marco sank further into his low self-confidence and felt unappreciated, depressed and confused.
One day his father, already tired after a long day, tripped over (被绊倒) Marco’s bike in the garage. He put the blame on Marco’s not placing the bike in the right way. Hearing this, Marco couldn’t bear and shouted to his father: “No matter how hard I tried, I could never do anything right!”Marco ran to his room angrily and sadly, leaving his father standing frozen there for a long time.
Two days later, his aunt called him. She said she had just seen some young teenagers participate in a public speaking contest. She thought he should give it a try. She told him she firmly believed he could perform on stage like the other kids, since she had seen his humorous performance for the family at Christmas.
Marco was extremely shocked. Him? On stage? In a public speaking contest? To agree would be contrary to his entire shy personality. But Aunt Ginette was so confident and seemed really serious. Feeling her strong belief, Marco went against everything he had ever done or felt, and agreed to enter the contest. All that winter, Marco tried his best to practice. He was taken by an energy he never felt before. However, all this seemed to bring no changes to his father. His father just feared it would take away from his homework time and impact his marks.
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2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
Four months later, the speaking contest arrived.
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When Marco saw his father’s face, he found his father’s eyes shining with joy.
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I had been swimming competitively for five years but after such a long time, I was ready to quit. I was often the only African American at the swimming competitions and our team couldn’t afford good uniforms. However, my number-one reason for wanting to quit was that I kept receiving “Honorable Mentions (荣誉奖)”. Any athlete knows that you don’t want to have a bookshelf full of “Honorable Mentions”, which you get just because you showed up.
One summer’s day, the day before a big swim meeting, I decided to tell my grandma that I was quitting the swim team. When I told her, she looked me in the eye and said, “Baby, remember these words ‘Quitters never win and winners never quit.’ Your grandmother didn’t raise losers or quitters. You go to that meeting tomorrow, and you swim like you are a grandchild of mine, you hear?” I was too afraid to say anything but “Yes, ma’am.”
The next day we arrived at the swim meeting late, missing my group of swimmers in the 15/16 age group. My coach insisted I should be allowed to swim with the older group. I knew she expected me to take part.
As I mounted the board, all the other girls looked at me. I quickly noticed that these girls were all here to do just one thing — beat me. All of a sudden, my grandma’s words rang in my head, “Quitters never win and winners never quit. You swim like you are a grandchild of mine.” “Yes, Grandma, I will swim like I am a grandchild of yours,” I said to myself.
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The match began! I swam harder than I had ever swum before.
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It was then that I heard the claps and cheers around me.
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Thin, average, and undisciplined, I was the underdog of the boys’ basketball tryouts (选拔赛) in seventh grade. Making the team was very important to me. Although I was extremely nervous, I truly thought I would make the team. But I went in overly optimistic, and quickly faced a cruel reality check.
When on the court, I huffed and puffed like an old man on his last legs; clearly, I was out of shape and having trouble keeping up. When it hit me that this was only the first day, and that there was a second to follow, I realized I would have to step it up in order to gain a spot on the team.
Unfortunately, day two went exactly like day one: I missed shots, passed badly like an out-of-breath fool. Hoping the coach was not watching all my bad moves, I had trouble keeping a positive attitude. Finally, Coach-who at five-foot-four usually seemed small, posted the lists of the Boys A and B Teams. Everybody quickly ran to catch a glimpse of the chosen few.
After scanning the list once, twice, three times, my name was nowhere. Although I had predicted the disaster that had now settled on me, with my head hanging. I slowly walked to the car. This experience definitely had not gone as I planned.
On the way home, I complained “How could that foolish boy is a better choice than me? And…”
“Adam!” my mom cut me off. “Why don’t you realize maybe you need a little more practice? You’d better go to basketball camps next summer.”
Although I did not want to believe her, I knew it was true. Failing to make the team was nobody’s fault but mine. Right then and there, in the middle of my anger, I realized I had to get my act together.
注意：
1.续写词数应为150左右：
2.请按如下格式在答题卡的相应位置作答。
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Then I threw myself into as many basketball opportunities as I could find.
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When I took part in the eighth-grade basketball tryouts,I was moderate,swift and strong.
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7 . 阅读下面材料，根据其内容和所给段落开头语续写两段，使之构成一篇完整的短文。
The frightening day of our diving test was here. Our parents thought we were lucky to have an Olympic-size swimming pool at the school. My mom stressed that the swimming pool was one of the best in our city. But I didn’t feel happy about it at all. Instead, I felt afraid of the swimming pool. It was mainly because I was terribly shy.
I was so shy that I always sat at the back of the room in class so I’d not be called upon to read. As for the present physical education class each Monday morning, I would work my way to the back of the line forming at the diving board so I would not have to practice the dives.
Now, it was another Monday morning - the morning of our diving test. My blood ran cold when the teacher Ms. Robbins announced that we would be graded for our final on the most difficult dive- the jackknife. And she added, “This diving test is important. The one who fails has to spare time in the following Monday mornings to practice diving in this swimming pool and attend this test again.”
My body kept shaking with fear as the line to the scary diving board shortened. As I watched, each student seemed to perform the challenging dive effortlessly. And shortly I would have to attempt something that I had never even practiced before.
Then I remembered someone telling me that when you picture yourself doing a skill over and over, it’s just as effective as physically practicing that skill. So I watched carefully as each classmate jumped at the end of the board once, added a jump for height, folded their body in half to reach for their toes, and finally straightened out like an arrow for going into the water. After carefully watching for a while, I was actually in a state of surprise, because all of a sudden I realized that it was possible for me to perform these four steps of diving.
Eventually all classmates except me finished jumping. The teacher announced that it was my turn.
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With my heart knocking wildly, I walked down the diving board towards its end.
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Knowing I failed, I climbed out of the pool, embarrassed.
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The Comeback
Laurie sat quietly in the empty dressing room at the ice-skating rink(溜冰场). She had not been skating in any competition since her left knee was badly injured in an accident six months ago. As she waited for her turn to skate, Laurie was very nervous. She knew that today was a very important day in her comeback.
“If I can win today,” she thought, “I can skate in the World Cup next year and then maybe I can make it to the Olympics.”
Laurie was told that she had a tough competition this year, and a girl from Connecticut named Jinny Jordan who was really strong in everything. “She is the one you have to beat this year,” the coach said.
Minutes later, the door opened and Laurie saw a young woman who was about her own age. The young woman dumped some of her belongings onto a chair. The bag fell to the floor with a sound.
Laurie felt uncomfortable as she looked at Jinny. “So this is my competitor,” thought Laurie, “Because of her, I may lose tonight.”
“This costume(服装) was my mom’s idea,” Jinny started the conversation, looking down at her red, white, and blue skating dress. “ looks like a flag.”
Laurie couldn’t keep from smiling. She pointed to Jinny’s skating bag. “Something fell out of your bag,” Laurie said.
Jinny looked at the clothing and equipment that lay scattered on the floor. As she began to gather her belongings, the door opened.
“Jinny,” called someone, “You’d better give the tape of your music to the sound engineer right away.”
“I thought I gave him my music tape an hour ago,” said Jinny, “Tell him it’s the green box with my initials written in white in the right-hand corner.”
“He said you never gave it to him. and he’s getting angry.”
“Then I don’t know what I did with it,” said Jinny, hurrying out.
Laurie knew that music was nearly as important to the program as skating itself. If she lost her music tape, she might as well forget about skating. Laurie stood up and walked to the chair to do a few more knee bends.
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Suddenly she saw something small and dark green behind the leg of the dressing table.
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Feeling relaxed, Laurie skated quickly to the center of the rink after the announcer finally called her name.
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