Jotham Burrello’s “Speed of Life” triggered a similar playground recollection: a race between Kurt West, the reigning champ who lived at the end of our street, and the new kid. Two teachers waited in right field, fifty yards down the first base line. Kick started from home plate with a shouted “Go,” they finished close enough to call it a draw. I called it an upset. Although I didn’t recognize it then, by sixth grade King Kurt’s best days were behind him. Burrello’s narrative is simpler: Run 40 yards and count the seconds. Yet even straightforward stories require some craft.