吴琼是北京东城体校的青年教练。他带着一群五、六岁至十一、二岁的孩子,暂借八一队的游泳馆学练游泳。那游泳馆离市中心很远。每天下午五点过,八一队的队员们头发湿漉漉地走出游泳馆了,东城体校的孩子们才纷纷跳入尚未平息的淡蓝色的池水。于是,孩子们细芽嫩气的嚷叫声、哗哗哗的拨水声,以及五六个教练的喊声,很快就充盈了整个游泳馆。这时,一抹橙黄的夕阳透过西面顶窗映入水中,闪起明晃晃的光波。然而,训练馆外面仿佛比馆里还要喧杂些。一大片孩子家长站满了台阶下的空场地。他们或交谈;或凝神寂听馆里的击水声;或设法进得大门,守望在通往池边的门窗后面,寻觅孩子的身影。 Wu Qiong is a Beijing Dongcheng school youth coach. He took a group of children aged between five and six to eleven and two and swam temporarily from the Bayi Team’s swimming pool. The swimming pool is far from the city center. Every day at five o’clock in the afternoon, Bayi team members wet their hair out of the swimming pool, and Dongcheng Sports School children have jumped into the light blue pool have not subsided. As a result, the children tender bud of the tenderness, wailing sound of water and water, and five or six coaches shout, and soon filled the entire swimming pool. At this time, an orange sunset through the western top window into the water, shining bright light waves. However, the training hall outside seems to be more complicated than the museum. A large number of children’s parents stood empty spaces under the steps. They talk or talk; or listen to the sound of water in the hall; or try to get into the door, watching behind the doors and windows leading to the pool, looking for the child’s figure.