The staff member looked at the registration form and looked at him at a loss. He had never encountered such a situation. The personal best result on the registration form turned out to be the Disabled Track and Field Classic!

"Disabled Track and Field Classic? What kind of competition is this?" The staff thought of this, looked up at Philip, pointed to the position where the registration form read "Tran Disabled Track and Field Classic" and asked, "Did you fill it in the wrong here?"

Philip lowered his head and confirmed it, and said, "Nothing was wrong."

"This competition is something that only disabled people can participate?" the staff member then confirmed.

"Yes, only disabled people can participate in the competition." Philip replied.

"Then are you a disabled person?" the staff asked tentatively.

"Yes, I'm a disabled person. I lost my feet and walked on my prosthetics." Philip replied honestly.

"You don't have feet?" Although the staff knew that this was a very rude behavior, they looked down at Philip's feet, and then he looked at the registration form again.

"Barron Philip, losing his feet, I remembered, I remember who he is!" The staff member raised his head suddenly and said in surprise: "You are the Blade Warrior from Los Angeles!"

"I have such a nickname," Philip replied.

"It's really you!" After the staff confirmed Philip's identity, the surprised look on his face became more and more obvious. He asked, "Are you here to sign up? Are you sure you want to participate? This is not a disabled competition!"

"I know, this is a World Track and Field Championships selection, so I need parameters." Philip said solemnly.

"Crazy! It's so crazy!" the staff murmured to himself.

"What? Is there any problem with my registration?" Philip asked.

"This, I don't know, I really don't know, I've never encountered such a thing. Sorry, Mr. Philip, regarding your registration, I want to despise my superiors!" After the staff said that, he picked up Philip's registration form and walked outside, muttering: "Crazy, this world is so crazy!"

...

The tournament officer Lopez looked at the registration form, his expression was also very exaggerated.

"Disable athletes? What does this mean? Do you think of us as a paralympic game?" Lopez snorted coldly, put down the registration form, and then said: "This is a mess, purely a mess!"

"Mr. Lopez, do we want to accept his registration?" the staff asked.

"What are you kidding? This is the World Championships trial, the highest track and field athletics in the United States. Do you want to turn this competition into a Paralympic? Do you want the strongest athletes in the United States to let those 'flyers' compete on the same stage with a disabled person?" Lopez continued firmly: "Reject his registration!"

"Okay, sir, but for what reason should we reject him?" the staff asked subconsciously.

Lopez curled his lips contemptuously: "Any reason, it doesn't matter. We are the organizers of the competition. We have the right to refuse any athlete to participate in the competition!"

...

"Mr. Philip, I'm very sorry, you can't participate in our competition." The staff returned the registration form to Philip.

"Why?" Philip took the registration form and asked, "Where did I fill it out and didn't meet the standards? I can modify it now."

"It's not a question of filling out the registration form, it's that you don't meet our registration requirements." The staff member said coldly.

"Where do I not meet the requirements? My grades have met the minimum requirements for registering for the qualifying competition! Or do you have any doubts about the authenticity of my grades? You can verify this, my grades are definitely true." Philip said.

"It's not a matter of grades." The staff member shook his head.

"Why? Is it because I am a disabled person? But your rules of participation do not say that disabled people cannot register!" Philip seemed a little angry.

The staff did not answer positively, and he was afraid of taking the blame for the wrong thing, so he simply spoke: "Mr. Philip, you do not meet our registration requirements. It was decided by our event organizing committee. If you think there is any problem, you can appeal to the event organizing committee!"

Philip shook his head disdainfully, and he picked up the registration form and turned around and walked out.

In the cafe not far away, Li Dai saw Philip walking towards the cafe with a bad face through the floor-to-ceiling window from afar.

Philip walked into the cafe, sat down opposite Li Dai, and angrily patted the registration form on the table, and said angrily: "They really refused my registration!"

"Is it because you are a disabled person?" Li Dai asked calmly.

"They didn't say it clearly." Philip took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down.

"It doesn't matter whether there is any clarity or not. As long as they don't allow you to sign up, we should let Steven do things. Having said that, Steven is also quite responsible." Li Dai said, taking out his cell phone, looking for Steven's number with his head down, and then continued: "I'll call Steven and ask him to contact the media and the disabled protection agency. You can also tweet on Twitter as soon as possible. I believe that your supporters will learn about the injustice you have encountered."

...

"Hey, Marshall, I'm Steven, how are you doing recently... You should have heard of the name of Barron Philip, 'Blade Warrior', right? Yes, it's the disabled athlete who lost his legs. I have a news about him here, you will definitely be interested! He plans to participate in a normal person competition! Yes, a disabled person, you have to participate in a normal person competition!"

"What? Isn't this news shocking enough? Marshall, don't worry. After listening to me, Philip is indeed going to participate in a normal competition, and he has also achieved the expression of participating, but he was rejected by the organizer!"

"Of course, it's because he is a disabled person! No, no, the rules for participating in the competition do not limit the parameters of the disabled. Isn't it ironic that a disabled person, who works hard to be like a normal person, but is treated unfairly. So, Marshall, Philip needs you, we need a reporter like you who is full of justice..."

Steven finished the call with reporters and called another phone number to a disabled person protection organization.

"Hello, Mr. Powell, I am Steven, the agent of Barron Philip, a disabled athlete. Yes, it's that Blade Warrior. It makes me very honored that you know him! It's like this, we need your help..."

"Mr. Damon, what I said is absolutely true. The organizer really rejected Philip's participation. This is discriminating against people with disabilities! We need the help of controversial people like you. And if you are willing to help us, it will also be helpful to you. As far as I know, one in five people in your constituency are disabled, and they will definitely vote for candidates who are willing to help people with disabilities..."

After a series of more than a dozen calls, Steven finally breathed a sigh of relief.

"Hurry up and make a fuss. The bigger the matter, the better. The whole world knows it. In that case, there may be more and more advertising endorsements!"

...

Two California State University college students were heading towards the classroom.

"The stadium is so lively, and many people gather there." One person said.

"I heard that there are competitions, and it is a qualifier for the World Track and Field Championships. I heard that many big-name athletes have come to participate." Another person said.

"No wonder, so many people gathered there. Look, they still hold signs. Are they here to support the athletes?"

"Huh? I'm really holding a slogan. I remember the competition will start tomorrow, so why did the cheerleaders come today? Whose supporter is so enthusiastic? Those who don't know think there is a group protesting!"

"Are you protesting? It's really like it's really like protesting... Wait, if you look closely, they're protesting!"

This protest is relatively easy to distinguish from fans chasing stars. When the two looked carefully, they found that there was a group of protest groups gathered in front of the stadium.

"Go and see what they are protesting!" the two said, approaching the protesting crowd.

The two walked closer and looked, but found that many of the protesters were disabled.

“Protest for discrimination against people with disabilities!”

“People with disabilities should not be treated unfairly!”

"Protect the rights and interests of people with disabilities!"

One by one, one eye-catching slogan was reflected in the eyes of the two.

...

A large group of disabled people sitting in wheelchairs with crutches holding signs to protest, which is indeed a very eye-catching thing. Disabled people are vulnerable everywhere, leaving half of their arms and half of their legs outside, and even if they don’t have to do anything, they can attract a large number of sympathetic eyes.

Next to the window, Lopez opened a gap in the blinds and looked out at the protesting crowd.

"What happened? I refused the participation of the 'Blade Warrior' in the morning. Someone came to protest this afternoon. This must have been planned!" Lopez was in a very bad mood at this time.

Suddenly, Lopez saw several people carrying cameras and holding microphones in their hands appear in the crowd.

"It's a reporter! The protesters have only arrived in less than half an hour. Why did the reporters come? When did the actions of these reporters become so fast? With reporters intervening, it's not easy to deal with now."

Lopez was thinking about it, but saw a black car coming from a distance, then parked near the crowd, and a blonde man walked down from the car.

"That man is Dimon, a Republican worker! He seems to be planning to run for city councilman, so he is here... Oops!" Lopez suddenly realized something.
Chapter completed!