Sylvia Hurlburt, the first still-active CHS athlete to be inducted into the Coupeville Sports Hall o’ Fame. (John Fisken photo)
Sylvia, the teammate. (John Fisken, Kristin Hurlburt and Deb Smith photos)
The toes, the toes… (Michael Stadler photo)
Sylvia inherited the awesome gene from mom Kristin. (John Fisken photo)
Dear Sylvia Hurlburt,
You stepped in to Coupeville High School as a freshman right as Coupeville Sports started up, and, along with the rest of the Class of 2016, have been the first generation of Wolves to have their athletic accomplishments exhaustively detailed on a day-to-day basis.
And yet, it is fair to argue you have perhaps not received your full due.
Today, five days before your birthday, I want to right that (at least a little bit) by bestowing on you an “honor” that no one else has received.
As the sole honoree in the 41st class to be inducted into the Coupeville Sports Hall o’ Fame, you are the first athlete to be enshrined before graduation.
Yes, even before you-know-who.
A handful of other Wolves still competing have landed in the Hall for creating magical moments, or as part of a team, but, up until this moment, there was always sort of an unwritten rule that we would laud an athletic career after it became a complete career.
But why wait?
I know you’ll be in the Hall, for a ton of reasons, and setting some sort of future date for enshrinement would be pointless.
You’re gonna be in there, you deserve to be in there, so you’re going in now, to stand alongside your aunt Kristan (literally, because when folks hit the Legends tab up on the top of the blog, your name, in alphabetic order, now sits between your aunt and Kyra Ilyankoff.)
You were a superstar before the birth of Coupeville Sports — May 2, 2012 you won three events (100, 200, 4 x 200) as a CMS 8th grader — and you’ll be one long after you move beyond my coverage area.
But during the time this blog has been active (Aug. 2012 to today) you, Sylvia Lawanda (yeah, probably not your real middle name…) Hurlburt, have been as truly transcendent as any one I have covered.
Track, where you have never been able to compete at home due to a crumbling CHS oval, is your first, but far from your last, calling card.
A superb sprinter and a relay anchor with ice in her veins, you’ve been to state with four relay teams (with 3rd and 5th place medals in the 4 x 200), and you currently are one-fourth of the most dangerous squad in the land.
Running along with Lauren Grove, Lindsey Roberts and Makana Stone, you, Sylvia, are part of the current fastest 4 x 200 team in 1A and the second-fastest 4 x 100 unit.
I fully expect you to add more state meet medals to your trophy case when the season winds down in May in Cheney (or maybe Chelan? No, probably not Chelan…).
Pack some sunscreen, for yourself, cause it’s hot over there, and for the other teams, cause they may finish the race with severe wind burn from you lapping them so hard.
But, of course, you are about much more than just track, Miss Hurlburt.
You’re a cheer captain, a strong student, and a highly-accomplished, life-long practitioner of the brutal, beautiful art of ballet.
When I hear athletes complain about the rigors of their sport, I think about sending them your way, because, frankly, they have nothing on dancers.
That you have endured years of bodily abuse (the toes, the toes…) while continuing to perform so elegantly, always amazes me.
And then, of course, towering over everything, over the speed on the oval, the grit on the stage, the spirit on the sideline, the commitment in the classroom, we have you, Sylvia the person.
Even when you’re being snarky, even when you’re dropping side-eye at me as I lamely try to explain why I’ve never traveled to one of your track meets, you remain one of the friendliest, most thoughtful, considerate, truly caring, well-spoken young women I have ever known.
Watching you interact with your teammates, especially in the quiet moments when you don’t know people are watching, I have come to know just how special you truly are.
You’ve been willing to be in a ton of photos, Sylvia, and the funny ones are gold for me here on the blog.
But the ones where you and Makana are hugging each other, and joy spills out of both of you because of your pride and happiness in each others accomplishments, that’s what I will remember.
The moment where you and Lauren are standing alone at the line, heads bowed, holding hands, united by something far, far deeper than being part of the same relay unit, still slays me.
It has been a joy to write about you these past four years, and to be a small slice of your life, even when you’re giving me (well-deserved) grief, Miss Hurlburt.
I hope you know how special we all think you are, as an athlete, yes, but even more as a person.
