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Mrs. Lane knew I needed help， and she found a way to help me.
莱恩太太知道我需要帮助，她找到了一种方法来帮我。
I’ve done almost every sport I can think of for almost as long as I can recall. So I’ve had a lot of coaches. And my best coach was my eighth grade math teacher， Mrs. Lane.
从我记事起，我几乎做过每一项我能想到的运动，所以我有很多教练。我最好的教练是我八年级的数学老师，莱恩太太。
She scared me witless. She scared everyone witless. She wasn’t mean. She didn’t yell. But you knew that she knew everything. Especially about you.
她吓得我魂不附体，吓到了所有人。她并不尖刻，不会大声喊叫。但你知道，她什么都知道，尤其是关于你的事。
She wore a different knockoff1 Chanel suit to school every day and had high-fashion oversized black-framed glasses. She spoke in the snappy2 cadence3 of an actress in a 1940s romantic comedy. Her white hair was carefully coiffed4. I never saw a strand out of place. Nothing was ever out of place. The desks in our classroom （her classroom） were always in perfect rows. Even the wastebaskets were orderly. At the end of class， she would ask one of us to march down the rows with the wastebasket， and we would lay our scratch5 paper in the bottom of the basket， flat.
她每天都穿着不同的仿香奈儿套装去上学，戴着时尚的超大黑框眼镜。她说话的节奏像20世纪40年代爱情喜剧片中的女演员。她的白头发梳得很仔细，我从来没有看到一根头发丝错位。她对待所有的事情都一丝不苟，我们教室（她的教室）里的课桌总是排得很整齐，甚至废纸篓也井然有序。快下课时，她会让我们中的一个人拿着废纸篓沿着一排排课桌走着，我们会把草稿纸平放在篮子的底部。
One Wednesday in November， as the wastebasket made its way down the aisles6， my friend Dave threw a balled-up sheet of paper into the basket from a distance of about four feet. A dunk， really. Tim， the kid holding the basket， froze. The room froze. Dave’s eyes turned back and forth. We held our breath. Mrs. Lane sat at her desk， saying nothing.
11月的一个星期三，当废纸篓从过道经过时，我的朋友戴夫从四英尺远的地方把一张揉成团的纸扔进了废纸篓。一个扣篮，真的。蒂姆，拿着篓子的那个孩子，僵住了，教室里的人也僵住了。戴夫的眼睛来回瞟着，我们屏住了呼吸。莱恩太太坐在桌旁，一言不发。
Curtis balled up his paper and threw it in. Nothing. Then Terry. A joyful storm of paper balls happened. I wadded up my scratch paper and put up a beautiful shot from about 10 feet out.
柯蒂斯把紙揉成一团扔了进去，没有什么事。然后是特里，接着是一场纸团的快乐暴风雪。我卷起我的草稿纸，从10英尺外投了一个漂亮的篮。
The instant it left my fingertips， Mrs. Lane said， flatly， “Mr. Wilcoxen.”
草稿纸一离开我的指尖，莱恩太太就直截了当地说道：“威尔科森先生。”
She got up from her desk. I had the sensation of having almost fallen backward off a ladder. I was sweating.
她从书桌上站了起来。我有种几乎要从梯子上摔下来的感觉，汗流浃背。
“Nice shot，” she said， walking toward me， high heels clicking on the floor.
“投得不错，”她说着，向我走来，高跟鞋在地板上嗒嗒作响。
I almost fainted with relief. Chatter and laughter began. She asked Tim for the wastebasket and fished out my ball of paper. She handed it to me and walked to the back of the room. She set the wastebasket down about a foot from the wall in the corner. Relief turned to fear. She wasn’t done. 我松了一口气，几乎要晕过去了。聊天声和笑声又开始了。她向蒂姆要来废纸篓，把我的纸团捞了出来。她把它递给我，然后走到教室后面，把废纸篓放在离墙角一英尺远的地方。安心变成了恐惧，事情还没有完。
“It was such a nice shot that I’d like to see some more，” she said. “Get up， Mr. Wilcoxen， and join me.”
“那个投篮非常棒，我想再看一次。”她说：“起来，威尔科森先生，和我一起做。”
We walked to the door. “I’d like to see 10 more shots， from here. Every time you miss， you owe me one hour of detention7.”
我们走到门口。“我想再看10次投篮，从这里投。一次投不中，你就欠我一个小时的留校。”
The class buzzed with murmurs. Mrs. Lane did not silence them. Any kid who’s ever thrown a balled-up sheet of paper knows that there’s barely enough weight in such a missile8 to get it all the way across the room， let alone accurately9.
全班都在窃窃私语。莱恩太太没有让他们闭嘴。任何一个曾经扔过纸团的孩子都知道，这样的纸团几乎没有足够的重量能穿过房间，更不用说精确命中了。
I squeezed the ball as tightly as I could and took my first shot. Enough distance， but wide left. The class was depressed. One hour of detention. Next shot： short. Two hours. My third shot dropped in the center of the basket， and the class shouted as if I’d hit a walk-off home run at Fenway Park. Mrs. Lane did not blink.
我尽可能地把纸球捏紧，然后进行第一次投篮。距离足够，但太偏向左边。全班学生都很沮丧，留校一小时。下一投：距离短了。两个小时。我的第三个球落在了篮筐中央，全班都沸腾了起来，好像我在芬威公园打了一个本垒打。莱恩太太眼都没眨一下。
I made three shots and missed seven. Seven hours of one-on-one with Mrs. Lane. I did not question the fairness of my sentence. I simply accepted the fact that I’d never be happy again.
我投中了三个球，丢了七个，于是和莱恩太太一对一地聊了七个小时。我没有质疑判决是否公正。我只是接受了再也不会快乐起来的事实。
It has taken me nearly half a century to figure it out， but here’s why Mrs. Lane was my best coach： I was new to Connecticut， having moved up from Miami that summer. I’d made only a few friends. I wore Florida sneakers and Florida jeans. I was never dressed warmly enough for the weather. In short， I was a little different in a community that didn’t celebrate being a little different.
我花了將近半个世纪才弄明白，但这就是为什么莱恩夫人是我最好的教练的原因：那年夏天我刚从迈阿密搬到康涅狄格州，只交了几个朋友。我穿着佛罗里达运动鞋和佛罗里达牛仔裤，穿的衣服一直都不够暖和，没有适应天气。简而言之，我在一个不崇尚与众不同的团体里有点与众不同。
Here’s what happened： Each shot I hit made me a bit of a hero. Each shot I missed made me a bit of a hero. I think Mrs. Lane knew what she was doing.
事情是这样的：我每一次投中都给我增添了几分英雄色彩;投不中的也都给我增添了几分英雄色彩。我想莱恩太太知道她在做什么。
I was also seriously behind in math. I was an A student， but I’d been able to hide what I didn’t know. By now Mrs. Lane had discovered what I didn’t know. I couldn’t hide it from her.
我在数学方面也明显落后。我曾是一名优等生，但我能隐藏我所不知道的东西。到目前为止，莱恩太太已经发现了那些我不知道的事情。我没法对她隐瞒。 How many hours of tutoring did I need to get up to grade level？ Exactly seven.
我需要多少小时的辅导才能达到本年级水平？确切地说是七个小时。
Day One of detention was Thursday.
留校的第一天是星期四。
“Come in，” she said. “Pull up a chair.”
“进来，”她说。“搬一把椅子过来。”
I did. Without looking up from her papers， she passed a plate of cookies across her desk. “You’re probably hungry，” she said.
我照做了。她没有从报纸上抬起头，把一盘饼干从桌子上递过来。“你可能饿了，”她说。
I was always hungry， two or three-sandwich hungry， so I took a cookie. “Thank you，” I said. 我总是饿，两、三个三明治都不顶饿，所以我吃了一块饼干。“谢谢你，”我说。
There was a plate of cookies on her desk every afternoon for the next six afternoons. They were homemade， and they were delicious.
在接下来的六个下午，她的桌上每天下午都有一盘饼干，是自制的，很好吃。
I wish I could say we grew close that week， but I learned nothing of her private life， nor she about mine. But I did learn math. Each detention was tailored10 to address and make up for a weakness that she had found. It was exciting to finally understand the things that I’d pretended to know. I grew comfortable with her.
我真希望那周能让我们的关系变得亲密起来，但我对她的私生活、她对我的私生活都一无所知。但我确实好好学了一下数学。每一次留校都是为了解决和弥补她发现的一个弱点。终于明白了我假装知道的事情，真是令人兴奋。我和她的相处变得很愉快。
And on that eighth afternoon， I felt a little lost as I kicked my way through piles of fallen leaves， all the way home.
第八天下午，当我一路踏过一堆落叶时，心中感到有点失落。
Notes
1. knockoff [
莱恩太太知道我需要帮助，她找到了一种方法来帮我。
I’ve done almost every sport I can think of for almost as long as I can recall. So I’ve had a lot of coaches. And my best coach was my eighth grade math teacher， Mrs. Lane.
从我记事起，我几乎做过每一项我能想到的运动，所以我有很多教练。我最好的教练是我八年级的数学老师，莱恩太太。
She scared me witless. She scared everyone witless. She wasn’t mean. She didn’t yell. But you knew that she knew everything. Especially about you.
她吓得我魂不附体，吓到了所有人。她并不尖刻，不会大声喊叫。但你知道，她什么都知道，尤其是关于你的事。
She wore a different knockoff1 Chanel suit to school every day and had high-fashion oversized black-framed glasses. She spoke in the snappy2 cadence3 of an actress in a 1940s romantic comedy. Her white hair was carefully coiffed4. I never saw a strand out of place. Nothing was ever out of place. The desks in our classroom （her classroom） were always in perfect rows. Even the wastebaskets were orderly. At the end of class， she would ask one of us to march down the rows with the wastebasket， and we would lay our scratch5 paper in the bottom of the basket， flat.
她每天都穿着不同的仿香奈儿套装去上学，戴着时尚的超大黑框眼镜。她说话的节奏像20世纪40年代爱情喜剧片中的女演员。她的白头发梳得很仔细，我从来没有看到一根头发丝错位。她对待所有的事情都一丝不苟，我们教室（她的教室）里的课桌总是排得很整齐，甚至废纸篓也井然有序。快下课时，她会让我们中的一个人拿着废纸篓沿着一排排课桌走着，我们会把草稿纸平放在篮子的底部。
One Wednesday in November， as the wastebasket made its way down the aisles6， my friend Dave threw a balled-up sheet of paper into the basket from a distance of about four feet. A dunk， really. Tim， the kid holding the basket， froze. The room froze. Dave’s eyes turned back and forth. We held our breath. Mrs. Lane sat at her desk， saying nothing.
11月的一个星期三，当废纸篓从过道经过时，我的朋友戴夫从四英尺远的地方把一张揉成团的纸扔进了废纸篓。一个扣篮，真的。蒂姆，拿着篓子的那个孩子，僵住了，教室里的人也僵住了。戴夫的眼睛来回瞟着，我们屏住了呼吸。莱恩太太坐在桌旁，一言不发。
Curtis balled up his paper and threw it in. Nothing. Then Terry. A joyful storm of paper balls happened. I wadded up my scratch paper and put up a beautiful shot from about 10 feet out.
柯蒂斯把紙揉成一团扔了进去，没有什么事。然后是特里，接着是一场纸团的快乐暴风雪。我卷起我的草稿纸，从10英尺外投了一个漂亮的篮。
The instant it left my fingertips， Mrs. Lane said， flatly， “Mr. Wilcoxen.”
草稿纸一离开我的指尖，莱恩太太就直截了当地说道：“威尔科森先生。”
She got up from her desk. I had the sensation of having almost fallen backward off a ladder. I was sweating.
她从书桌上站了起来。我有种几乎要从梯子上摔下来的感觉，汗流浃背。
“Nice shot，” she said， walking toward me， high heels clicking on the floor.
“投得不错，”她说着，向我走来，高跟鞋在地板上嗒嗒作响。
I almost fainted with relief. Chatter and laughter began. She asked Tim for the wastebasket and fished out my ball of paper. She handed it to me and walked to the back of the room. She set the wastebasket down about a foot from the wall in the corner. Relief turned to fear. She wasn’t done. 我松了一口气，几乎要晕过去了。聊天声和笑声又开始了。她向蒂姆要来废纸篓，把我的纸团捞了出来。她把它递给我，然后走到教室后面，把废纸篓放在离墙角一英尺远的地方。安心变成了恐惧，事情还没有完。
“It was such a nice shot that I’d like to see some more，” she said. “Get up， Mr. Wilcoxen， and join me.”
“那个投篮非常棒，我想再看一次。”她说：“起来，威尔科森先生，和我一起做。”
We walked to the door. “I’d like to see 10 more shots， from here. Every time you miss， you owe me one hour of detention7.”
我们走到门口。“我想再看10次投篮，从这里投。一次投不中，你就欠我一个小时的留校。”
The class buzzed with murmurs. Mrs. Lane did not silence them. Any kid who’s ever thrown a balled-up sheet of paper knows that there’s barely enough weight in such a missile8 to get it all the way across the room， let alone accurately9.
全班都在窃窃私语。莱恩太太没有让他们闭嘴。任何一个曾经扔过纸团的孩子都知道，这样的纸团几乎没有足够的重量能穿过房间，更不用说精确命中了。
I squeezed the ball as tightly as I could and took my first shot. Enough distance， but wide left. The class was depressed. One hour of detention. Next shot： short. Two hours. My third shot dropped in the center of the basket， and the class shouted as if I’d hit a walk-off home run at Fenway Park. Mrs. Lane did not blink.
我尽可能地把纸球捏紧，然后进行第一次投篮。距离足够，但太偏向左边。全班学生都很沮丧，留校一小时。下一投：距离短了。两个小时。我的第三个球落在了篮筐中央，全班都沸腾了起来，好像我在芬威公园打了一个本垒打。莱恩太太眼都没眨一下。
I made three shots and missed seven. Seven hours of one-on-one with Mrs. Lane. I did not question the fairness of my sentence. I simply accepted the fact that I’d never be happy again.
我投中了三个球，丢了七个，于是和莱恩太太一对一地聊了七个小时。我没有质疑判决是否公正。我只是接受了再也不会快乐起来的事实。
It has taken me nearly half a century to figure it out， but here’s why Mrs. Lane was my best coach： I was new to Connecticut， having moved up from Miami that summer. I’d made only a few friends. I wore Florida sneakers and Florida jeans. I was never dressed warmly enough for the weather. In short， I was a little different in a community that didn’t celebrate being a little different.
我花了將近半个世纪才弄明白，但这就是为什么莱恩夫人是我最好的教练的原因：那年夏天我刚从迈阿密搬到康涅狄格州，只交了几个朋友。我穿着佛罗里达运动鞋和佛罗里达牛仔裤，穿的衣服一直都不够暖和，没有适应天气。简而言之，我在一个不崇尚与众不同的团体里有点与众不同。
Here’s what happened： Each shot I hit made me a bit of a hero. Each shot I missed made me a bit of a hero. I think Mrs. Lane knew what she was doing.
事情是这样的：我每一次投中都给我增添了几分英雄色彩;投不中的也都给我增添了几分英雄色彩。我想莱恩太太知道她在做什么。
I was also seriously behind in math. I was an A student， but I’d been able to hide what I didn’t know. By now Mrs. Lane had discovered what I didn’t know. I couldn’t hide it from her.
我在数学方面也明显落后。我曾是一名优等生，但我能隐藏我所不知道的东西。到目前为止，莱恩太太已经发现了那些我不知道的事情。我没法对她隐瞒。 How many hours of tutoring did I need to get up to grade level？ Exactly seven.
我需要多少小时的辅导才能达到本年级水平？确切地说是七个小时。
Day One of detention was Thursday.
留校的第一天是星期四。
“Come in，” she said. “Pull up a chair.”
“进来，”她说。“搬一把椅子过来。”
I did. Without looking up from her papers， she passed a plate of cookies across her desk. “You’re probably hungry，” she said.
我照做了。她没有从报纸上抬起头，把一盘饼干从桌子上递过来。“你可能饿了，”她说。
I was always hungry， two or three-sandwich hungry， so I took a cookie. “Thank you，” I said. 我总是饿，两、三个三明治都不顶饿，所以我吃了一块饼干。“谢谢你，”我说。
There was a plate of cookies on her desk every afternoon for the next six afternoons. They were homemade， and they were delicious.
在接下来的六个下午，她的桌上每天下午都有一盘饼干，是自制的，很好吃。
I wish I could say we grew close that week， but I learned nothing of her private life， nor she about mine. But I did learn math. Each detention was tailored10 to address and make up for a weakness that she had found. It was exciting to finally understand the things that I’d pretended to know. I grew comfortable with her.
我真希望那周能让我们的关系变得亲密起来，但我对她的私生活、她对我的私生活都一无所知。但我确实好好学了一下数学。每一次留校都是为了解决和弥补她发现的一个弱点。终于明白了我假装知道的事情，真是令人兴奋。我和她的相处变得很愉快。
And on that eighth afternoon， I felt a little lost as I kicked my way through piles of fallen leaves， all the way home.
第八天下午，当我一路踏过一堆落叶时，心中感到有点失落。
Notes
1. knockoff [