Nothing requires more power than the shot put. And few things requiring such power are of less interest. True to its name, there's nothing more to it than putting a shot. No skill is involved. Nonomiya, from his place by the fence, grinned as he watched. Then, probably realizing he was blocking people's view, he moved away and withdrew onto the lawn. The young ladies also returned to their seats. From time to time the shot was launched. Sanshirō, from where he watched, had no way of telling how far it went. The whole thing was asinine. Still, he stood there patiently. When it finally ended, Nonomiya returned to the blackboard and recorded 11.38 meters.
After that came another race, then the long jump. Next the hammer throw began, and Sanshirō found his patience at an end. Each participant should hold his own event in private. Track and field was not for spectators. Sanshirō even decided that the ladies' enthusiasm must be somehow contrived. He slipped out of the crowd and up the berm on the back side. His way was blocked by tarps and rope. He doubled back down to the graveled area. A few others, who'd stolen out of the event, strolled here and there. Among them were lavishly dressed ladies. Sanshirō turned to his right and climbed a trail to the top of the hill. At the top, where the trail ended, was a large boulder. He sat down on the boulder and gazed over the edge of the high cliff to the pond below. A cheer erupted from down on the grounds.
Sanshirō sat on the boulder for five minutes, thinking about nothing in particular. Finally deciding to move on, he rose and turned on his heels. Through the faded maple leaves at the base of the hill, he spied the two young ladies. They were walking together, skirting the bottom of the rise.