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This was cool news from the other day:
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I don’t know Claire Hutton, a standout local soccer player, but I’ve long been aware of her ability on the field. I heard she was special. A kid to root for, a good family. I know some coaches and people involved in the sport, and they all have nothing but praise for her attitude, dedication, talent, kindness. A great kid. I heard that over and over.
I think every town, sooner or later, has some young athlete who breaks through. The shortstop who gets drafted in the 11th round by the Washington Nationals, the kid who is skating in the Olympics, a running back who signs with a D-1 powerhouse.
For me, here in Delmar, NY, one of those kids was Claire Hutton. She went to the same schools as my three children.
I met Claire briefly, just once. I was walking my dog near Bethlehem high school early one morning. It must have been a weekend or the summer; no one else was around, not even on the nearby tennis courts. I spied a young woman — she must have been 16 — setting out orange cones near the track. She looked strong-legged. I guessed that it might be Claire Hutton and, curious, I wandered over to say hello. We chatted for a bit. Claire was articulate and friendly, comfortable talking, happy to take a short break, and she liked my dog. Claire told me how she was going to play on the Boys Team that coming season (I later got to watch her play). She explained her drills after I asked what in the world was she doing. I shared with her how my very athletic daughter, Maggie, about five years older, suffered from three ACL surgeries and had to give up soccer (and basketball!) after 7th grade. She had already made JV soccer that season. Claire understood what that loss might feel like. I wished her luck and good health, told her I was rooting for her, and went on my way.
A couple of years later, when I wrote a book called Shaken about a 7th-grade athlete who suffers from a severe concussion, derailing her soccer activities, I was largely inspired by Maggie’s experience. Loving something and having it taken away. Kurt Vonnegut’s notion of making awful things happen to your characters in order to reveal what they are made of. And I thought about Claire, too. Or more accurately, I imagined what someone like Claire would think. The drive and the talent and the huge ambition. That’s the writer’s job, after all. We make things up out of life’s raw material. I wanted my character to be like that.
So I guess I put a little of Claire — the imaginary Claire — into the main character of my book, Kristy Barrett. But to be fully transparent, I don’t know anything about Claire and I doubt she would remember me. I know “of” her. I was just a benign dad type with a cool black-and-white rescue dog named Echo. We were alone on the edge of a football field, beside the track. And she was with her orange cones and workout gear, inching toward her big dreams.
Today it is so gratifying to see Claire, off in the distance, realizing those same dreams. Scoring a goal for USA soccer! And crazy as this sounds, it’s not the least bit surprising.
Great kid, I thought.
I used that inspiration for the first few pages of Shaken, introducing the character of Kristy Barrett.
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Kristy alone on a soccer field. The sun barely up above the trees. The turf damp from yesterday’s rain. It was cold. She went through her warm-up routine.
High knees, side shuffles, Frankensteins, butt kicks, hip flexors, etc. No ball. Not yet. Fitness first, always.
Today was a game day; she wouldn’t overdo it.
Kristy walked off the paces, set out small orange cones in different configurations. Soccer was a game of changing speeds, spurts, sharp cuts, quick accelerations, and periods of rest. This morning’s plan was designed to replicate a game situation. If it does not challenge you, it doesn’t change you. Kristy heard her mother say those words so many times she now thought of it as her own original idea. She jogged the shape once, then began working in a pattern of slow jogs and sprints. At the end of the first set, Kristy waited, winded, shook out her legs, counted to thirty. She began a second set. And so on. Fitness wasn’t the fun part of soccer. But it helped win games. It made her a better player. And, at thirteen, Kristy was determined to become the best in the state.
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This was her happy place. No matter what else was going on in the world, Kristy found peace and pleasure alone on the field. Even during a game, surrounded by teammates, crowded by opponents — pushed, knocked down, high-fived and cheered — Kristy felt gloriously alone. Bubbled, sheltered, secure.
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Here’s a quick one-minute interview with Claire.
But be warned: if you watch it, you’ll be rooting for her, too. It’s an affliction!
Addendum: Maybe Claire will see this someday. If she does, I hope she doesn’t mind that, in a circuitous way, I put something of her in a book. Or that I wrote this post.
A great kid, yeah. And an inspiring one, too.
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SHAKEN was listed by Bank Street Center of Children’s Literature as one of the “Best Children’s Books for 2025.” Ages 10-up.
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