When people think about the collision of two opposing forces in combat, most would think about superhero’s, Batman vs Joker, Superman vs Lex Luther…but what if I were to tell you there’s two greater foes, who’s collision resulted in a dual loss and a rift in the space-time-continuum itself?

This is a true eyewitness account of “The Great Race”, between two anonymous WCC students who’ve adapted the aliases Lego and Jaylo.

Recess was normal- it felt normal… Everyone was just eating.

Until it happened.

Lego foolishly challenged Jaylo, declaring “I could easily race you and win”. Rather than brushing off this challenge, Jaylo took it personally and chaos ensued. The two spent the next few weeks training intensively- Lego utilised long drawn-out workouts to build endurance, whereas Jaylo used HIIT (high intensity interval training) workouts that lasted 2 minutes (Including the 30-second ad break), until finally – The fateful day of the race arrived.

On February 30th we gathered in secret on the oval with an official carrying a starting gun and timer – Lego and Jaylo standing adjacent to one another behind the starting line with unwavering determination. The artist we hired was able to perfectly depict their starting positions as visible in the image below.

The air was thick with anticipation. The crowd fell silent. A single bead of sweat trickled down Jaylo’s forehead.

Boom

The starting gun fired, and in an instant—

Disaster.

Lego took one step forward before her shoelace betrayed her, sending her spiralling to the ground in a dramatic slow-motion fall. Meanwhile, Jaylo, fuelled by months of HIIT training, exploded off the starting line… directly into an unfortunately placed soccer goalpost. The impact echoed across the oval.

Gasps. Screams. A stunned silence.

Neither had won. Neither had even finished the race. Instead, both lay on the ground—one face-first in the grass, the other slumped against the goalpost like a Shakespearean tragedy. Somewhere in the distance, a lone bird took flight, carrying away the last remnants of dignity from the scene.

And so, The Great Race ended not with a victor, but with two broken egos, a few bruises, and an official who just sighed, packed up his timer, and walked away.

To this day, the oval still bears the scars of that fateful afternoon. Not literal scars, but metaphorical ones—forever etched in the memories of those who bore witness.