The Race

‘It’s easy Brian, you have to use a mixture of balance and speed. Here.’
Dad passed me the spoon with an egg glued firmly on its business end. Our eyes locked with mine in the way that only a father and son can.
‘Now son, a Murphy is expected to win this race every year, it’s in your blood.’
As he did this I started checking my pockets, I’m not really sure what for though. I could feel his eyes pressing on me, and my head sinking, as I tried avoiding eye contact.
I looked to my right toward my friend Danny having a very similar conversation with his father. Well except for the fact that they were smiling and actually looked happy to be here.
‘I know that the egg is glued on, but you have to make sure to sell it properly. Brian, pay attention!’
Dad had now gotten a little frustrated. I don’t really see what’s so important about a hundred yard dash. I know I’m expected to do well; Murphy’s always do well.
The announcer called all the participants up to the starting grid. Just as I was leaving Dad grabbed my shoulder.
‘Remember son, sell the lie.’
As I lined up on the starting grid I eyed up the other contestants. I could see Danny at the other end of it, when he saw me he gave me a quick smile before steadying his egg. I thought I should do the same, follow dad’s advice and all that. 
At the sidelines I saw dad standing with Uncle Philip, both of them didn’t seem very excited and seemed to be counting money, not actually looking at the race. Maybe I saw them at a bad moment.
The announcer came up to the starting grid.
‘Ready. Get set. Go!’