When Shayla Lyons walks into the circle to throw the discus or put the shot, she makes the sign of the cross.

“I do it to thank God for the moment,” says the Bishop Maginn junior.

Lyons, who lives in Westerlo, does the same thing in all the sports she plays, with different prayers for each occasion. In addition to track and field events, she also plays softball, volleyball, basketball, and cheerleads.

Tall and lank, Lyons does all of them well. This summer, she’ll play basketball in Georgia, the former Soviet country, and she’ll play volleyball in Iowa.

On Saturday, Lyons threw so well at the University at Albany she won the small-school title for girls’ shot put at the state championships held by the New York State Public High School Athletic Association.

This was her first year at the state competition and her enthusiasm was palpable on Friday as she arrived for her first event, the discus throw. Lyons had started throwing three years ago, her first at Maginn.

Max Desieno, her global history teacher, introduced her to the sport. “He put a shot put and a discus on my desk and said, ‘You’ll throw these or fail my class,’” she recalled with a smile. “He was kidding but I tried it and I absolutely loved it.”

Desieno left Maginn after Lyons’s first year for what she described as an “amazing job” at the University at Albany, his alma mater. He works for the university’s research foundation in computer technology.

“I haven’t had a coach since freshman year,” she said. Lyons practices in a parking lot. “I throw in between a fence,” she said. She has perfected her technique by watching YouTube videos. 

“My Dad coaches me,” Lyons said brightly. “He never threw but he knows the basics….My Dad is very supportive.”

Desieno threw in high school and as a student at the University at Albany, he said.  He recalls recruiting Lyons because of her height. “She said she wasn’t fond of running. The first time she tried it, she fell in love with it,” he said.

“I was proud of her today,” Desieno said after Saturday’s competition. “It’s tough,” he said of competing for Maginn. “Maginn doesn’t have the facilities.”

He recalled how Lyons would practice in a field but would throw so far, her discus or shot would go into the trees. “We had to move her back,” he said.

Desieno admires more than her skill at the sport; he admires her steadfast pursuit of it. “She has more drive than a lot of athletes I’ve seen,” he said. “She’s already talking about what she’ll do over the summer.”

He concluded, “I never met such a polite kid.”

“Only you”

What does Lyons like about throwing? “It’s only you — and you see your work pays off,” she said.

Another thing she likes about track and field is how friendly everyone is, even the competitors. It’s not like basketball, for example, where each player is in her own zone, she said.

Describing technique, Lyons said, “Everyone has a different beginning. I find a focal point…I completely clear my head.”

She went on, “You can feel it when you plant your first foot.” As she holds the discus, Lyons extends her arm, parallel to the ground to one side, and then back to the other, as if winding up before doing what looks like a pirouette, spinning around, and letting the discus fly.

“There’s a great sense of release,” she said. Some of her competitors cry out at that moment of release; Lyons is silent.

“You know the second it leaves your hand,” she says, of whether it was a good throw that will travel far, or one that was too low or too high or angled wrong.

“There’s nothing you can do to fix it,” she said with a shrug.

She concluded, “You’re loosing everything you have. It’s beautiful to watch.”

Magic must wait

Liam Treacy, the track and field coach at Maginn, said of Lyons, “She’s the leader of the team. She’s been winning everything this year.”

“I had a few losses,” corrected Lyons.

Asked, before the event, if Lyons had a chance to win the discus throw, Treacy said, “It would be magical. It would take a lot. She knows what she can do.”

Lyons was seeded seventh out of 17 girls in the small-schools discus throw and had a seed mark of 111.05 feet.

“Welcome,” said John Skubis, one of many officials clad in white polo shirts with khaki pants. “You ladies are all champions to be here,” he told the girls on Friday who had gathered to compete in Lyons’s Divison 2 flight. The association has two divisions — Division 1 for schools with 600 or more students and Division 2 for schools with 599 or fewer students.

Skubis went over the rules in a vivid way. “You may enter the circle anywhere you like, drop down from heaven,” he said. “If, during your attempt, you touch outside of the ring or the discus touches either sector line, that’s a foul.”

The temperature was in the 80s with high humidity on Friday afternoon as the sun beat down on the cement discus ring. Each girl carried a towel into the ring along with her discus. The towels were used to wipe the bottoms of their shoes, or their discuses.

Some of the girls put towels over their heads as they waited and watched.

Coaches called directions from the bleachers — “Get that hip out!”— as parents called encouragement — “Do it your way!”

An official watched the ring, holding up a red flag for a foul. Sometimes a loud clang would ring out, when a wayward discus hit the tall metal ribs of the net cage that surrounded the discus throwers on three sides.

If the official raised a white flag instead, other officials stretched out a tape to measure the distance from the edge of the ring to where the discus had landed.

Lyons threw 100 feet, 2 inches on her first of three throws. She threw 84 feet, 6 inches on her second. And she threw 84 feet, 3 inches on her third throw.

After the discus was released, her head was down and she bit her lower lip in disappointment.

Lyons did not make the top eight to advance to the next round.

The magic would have to wait for the next day.

Champion

After fierce thunderstorms on Friday night, Saturday dawned bright and clear. The air was no longer humid but crisp at 72 degrees as the girls gathered to compete Saturday morning in the center of the university’s track.

Rather than being off in a distant field, where the discus competition had been held, the shot put event was in the heart of activity. Cheering fans filled the massive bleachers as gazelle-like groups of athletes practiced in small herds, racing hither and yon. Elsewhere in the ring, jumpers leapt to heights taller than themselves.

The shot put officials delayed the competition several times, waiting for the sound of the starting gun to subside as sprinters rounded the track, mere feet from the shot put ring.

Lyons had a more sober countenance than the day before. “I did pretty bad yesterday,” she said.

Reminded it was her first time at States, Lyons responded, “That’s what my Dad told me.”

She watched intently, through red-framed sunglasses, as the girls in Division 1 threw. “They’re incredible,” said Lyons. “I just watch to see what I do wrong.”

Comparing shot put to discus, she said, “This is easier to control your balance; it’s more muscle than form.”

“I saw your name at the top,” said Cecelia Porter from Emma Willard, who was seeded fifth with a mark of 37; she sat next to Lyons. Lyons was indeed seeded first of 16 girls in Division 2 with a seed mark of 39.07.

As Lyons chatted with her friend, the pressure of being first may have weighed on her. Lyons said afterward that Porter was a great help in calming her.

“I don’t think my Dad has missed a single thing I’ve ever done,” she told her friend.

Her father, along with Desieno and Treacy, was watching from across the track, fenced off with the other spectators.

As she waited for her division’s competition to start, Lyons spoke with the official retrieving shots, admiring the metal wand he used to retrieve them.

“You don’t have to bend over — it’s a lifesaver,” he said.

“That is cool,” said Lyons.

When her turn came in the ring, Lyons nestled the shot against her neck, just below her right ear. She leaned forward, with her left arm extended in front of her, fingers taut. Then she spun quickly, releasing the shot in a fluid motion.

The tape measure was stretched and the distance called out: 35 feet, 1 inch. Lyons did not smile.

The next throw measured 36 feet, 6 3.4 inches. “I shifted my weight too early,” she called out to her father.

Each time an official returned the thrown shot to Lyons, she said, “Thank you.”

Her final throw was 38 feet, 5 1/2 inches.

Not only had Lyons made the cut-off for the next round, she was the leader of the pack.

As she waited for her next turn in the ring, Lyons jumped up and down vigorously. When her turn came, she threw 39 feet, 3 3/4 inches. She smiled as she released the shot. Applause followed.

On the next round, she reached 37 feet, 11 3/4 inches, and on the final round she made 38 feet, 10 3.4 inches.

Lyons was the girls’ small-school state champion.

Asked what made the difference between Friday and Saturday, she said, “This is my better event and I was better prepared. I ate right, not on the fly like usual, and I was mentally prepared.”

She also credited her friend and sister competitor, Cece. “She’s really sweet,” said Lyons. “She talked to me and calmed me down.”

But Lyons wasn’t resting on her laurels. “I’ve thrown a 40 before,” she said, and she was off to find out about the upcoming Federation competition.

Four different groups of schools all compete under the Federation umbrella. This includes New York City schools that are part of the Public Schools Athletic League; Catholic schools; independent schools; and, of course, both Division 1 and Division 2 schools in the NYSPHSAA.

Lyons came in sixth out of eight in the Federation event.

When it was over, the eight girls who had competed against each other to see who was the best in the state, joined together in a huddle. “Don’t walk away,” someone called out to Lyons who readily became part of the tradition.

The competitors stood shoulder to shoulder, some of them newly over tears of anger or sadness in not meeting their mark. They laced their arms together and for a long moment conversed with words no outsiders could hear.

When it was over, Lyons beamed. “It was a great day,” she said.