Wrestling short story

[ridge45 0]

Destiny's Twilight

They all said he couldn't do it. His own team, his own family. Why would they say

this to him? Where is the faith? It was only a year earlier when his back met with the

warm relief of defeat in that crowded auditorium. This year would be different. He knows

it. It has to be.

"Hey Derek!", Ryan yells down the hall to the brick wall of a 16 year old boy

walking towards the gym. "You gettin' ready to go run?"

"Yea. I'm 3 over."

"Don't worry about it. Come with me and Chuck to the cafiteria."

"Sorry, I can't", Derek now gettin' a little frustrated. Ryan has a bad habit of being

able to talk him out of training. Then again, Derek knows that he himself is somewhat to

blame. He knows that what he does to his body to make 145 lbs. is dangerous. He just

doesn't care. He has to redeem his loss from the previous season. His falure...his giving

up that let down himself and his team. "I'll see you later. I'm probly gonna cut 4th today.

Just tell Johnson that i'm sick or somethin'."

"Okay. Later, man"

"Later"

Derek makes his way through the see of basketball players to get to the back end

of the gym. He does this every Wednesday. He Creeps to the back of the gym where the

teacher couldn't see him and he slips out the door to go running on the track. He never

liked these people. The basketball players. They showed him no respect. Everyday he

drills and practices in gym and they all look at him like he's a 3 legged clown doin'

backflips over a giant tortouse. They always call him "spandex boy". Why can't they

understand he wonders. It frusterates him to the point of hate. He dispises them. But what

can he do? He just turns a shoulder and keeps on working.

Today was a good day, though. He feels great as he steps onto the broken concrete

of the old track. He has only 3 pounds to lose. Eating and drinking will be no challenge to

avoid. He has been wrestling for so long that he has trained himself and his body to learn

to put off food and to not let it cross his mind. If the temptation did manage to infiltrate

his brain, it wouldn't be here. Not in this place. The old abandoned track was surrounded

by large shaded trees and a little creek that made him feel like he was miles away from

school and the pressures of home. This was his favorite place in the world. Nothing to

distract him and nothing to frustrate him. Just him, his old running shoes, and the sweet

smell of the leaves laying on the ground around his feet as he runs.

"Here we go again", he thinks to himself as he laces up his tattered Adidas and

takes his last sip of water for the day from his I'm a Super Reader bottle. He can't

remember where he got it from. Just another souviner from some locker room of a team

that he didn't quite like enough not to steal from.

He takes off and runs for what seems like forever. Nothing running through his

mind. He's ran here so many times that it seems like breathing to him to jump over the big

whole that he encounters on the far end of the track and to duck under the braches that

hang low next to the old run-down concesion stand.

After he is done running he looks down at his watch.

"Holy shit, it's 1:30! I gotta get to 6th period." His run has lingered longer than he

had planned. He now has only fifty minutes left until he has to be in the mat room with

the rest of the team. More imortantly, though, he has to turn in his project on the ancient

Mayans and Aztecs. This project could make or break his chances of wrestling the second

part of the season. His grade is just barely hovering at the manditory 2.0 that he has to

make to play sports. His project is already a day late and he can't afford to lose another

day's credit on such a significant assingment.

He darts back through the gym door and into the hallway to stairwell B. He runs

all the way to the third floor to room 347. As he peeks through the window of the door he

can see that Mrs. Relts has her back turned to the door as she is talking on the phone.

Slowly he opens the door and dashes to a desk. Sure hope to hell she didn't see me runs

through his head. She hangs up the phone and walks past him. She stops abruptly and

turns toward him.

"Derek", there is a long pause. He can't quite read the look on her face, "I believe

it's your day to collect homework assignments. I already told Beth to do it because I

somehow didn't see you a few minutes ago. Probly because of that wrestling foolishnes.

You're wasting away, you know. Well, i'm sure she won't mind not having to gather

papers. Hurry it along though, we're going to the computer lab today."

"Okay, no problem. Just give me a second. I have that project from yesterday."

Mrs. Relts shoots him a little look and goes back to her task at her desk.

After collecting the homework Derek drops his project on her desk and scurries

out the door with the rest of the class on their way to the computer lab. They walk down

the hall and about half way to the lab Derek breaks away from everyone else. He hides in

a corner by the stairs. This is always where he goes to cut class. He waits a few minutes,

leaves the corner, and makes his way down stairs and outside so that he can sit in the mat

room.

When he opens the mat room doors he looks to see if anyone is there. The coast is

clear. He feels the familiar rush of madening heat that he practices everyday during the

season. He figures what better place to lose weight than a 100 degree box of a portable?

The room smells of sweat and old unwashed clothing. It doesn't bother him though. He

just stands under the heater and does sprawls for 35 minutes until the coach enters. His

coach, though a member of the school staff, doesn't really care if the wrestler cut class to

prepare for a match on that day.

"How much you over", his coach asks him, knowing that that is why Derek was

there.

"1.6."

Normally, this wouldn't be a problem for Derek to lose this weight but today the

matches started at 3 o'clock instead of 4 o'clock.

"So, are you gonna be able to make it?"

"I think so. I gotta use the bath room really bad. Maybe even a pounds worth."

There was no way that Derek wasn't going to make weight on this night. Tonight

was the regional tournament. If he didn't perform well tonight, he wouldn't move on to

the state tournament, leaving him to not be able to wrestle until the next season. Not only

this, but tonight he would have to wrestle Matt Walling, a senior from Challisdale High.

Matt was the one who stole Derek's region championship from him in the finals the

season before. This was to be Matt's last year of wrestling and Derek had never forgotten

how he had given up and got pinned on that night. The memory ran through his mind

each and every day. Never again he'd tell himself. He couldn't lose again, he had to prove

that he was better than him. He didn't know why, but the loss to Walling made him hate

him. His face ran through his mind and Derek's blood would boil.

Derek kicked the thought of Matt from his mind and get running in place. Right

about this time the rest of the team walked into the room in one big group. The first to

step into the room was Ryan. Derek didn't even want to look at him for fear of getting

side-tracked by Ryan. He just ran around the room for a few more minutes and then

jumped on the scale. 145.6. He can't believe it. He's so close. Weigh-ins were to be held

at 2:45 today instead of 3:45. This gave him 5 minutes to try to lose the excess weight. He

throws his clothing back on and heads inside the main school building in search of an

open bathroom stall. He finds one on the first floor and quickly jumps on it. 5 minutes,

gotta do this. He can't work up any urine but still feels some pressure on his stomach. He

drops his pants and tried to force himself to use the bathroom. He gets a little bit out but

he can't wait anymore. He cleans himself  and runs into the gym where the weigh-ins are

being done.

"What weight are they at", Derek asks Ryan. Ryan was the 103 pounder and a

freshman. He had been wrestling since 7th grade. Derek was always slightly jelous of

Ryan because he was always a few pounds underweight and never had to watch what he

ate..

"140. I was 2 and a half under", Ryan shoots Derek a look as if to give a friendly

acknowledgment of Derek's jelousy. "Better get ready. You're up."

One forty-five called the ref that was in charge of the weigh-ins. Derek jumped in

line. He was second just behind Matt Walling. He watched carefully to see Matt's weight

on the scale.

"143.6"

"I bet that little bitch hasn't had to cut any weight all day" Ryan thought to

himself. After Matt stepped off the scale it was Derek's turn. He stepped up and let out all

his air...come on...come on...the scale kept flashing and finally...

"145.2"

Derek's heart stopped. What could he do. He is allowed five minutes to lose the

weight. He runs to the bath room and forces a few drops of liquid out and runs back to the

scale. And now again, he's having to relive the weigh-in anxiety. He steps

up...flashing...flashing...The scale flashes between 145.0 and 145.2. He has only one

option. He hops off and drops his boxers. Once again he steps on...flashing...flashing...

"145 even", the ref calls to the man holding the sheet of paper to document the

weigh-ins.

He did it. It took every ounce of him, but he did it. Now he could refuel. He heads

over to the concesion stand and buys a bottle of orange juice and a banana.

As he sits in the stands watching his teammates battle on the mat, he and his rival

from Challisdale High exchange glares. They both know how much this match means.

They both look confident but are screaming in anxiousness on the inside. Derek doesn't

even have enough energy to warm-up before his match. He just watches the 140 match

and waits.

"145", yells the ref after the conclusion of the 140 bout.

Both Derek and Matt run down to the scorers table to check in. They are both

cleared and sent to the middle of the mat. The ref asks if the boys are ready. They both

nod. The intensity in their eyes is like a thousand hurricanes. A million fires burning in

their hearts, eating them alive. Their hands sweat and their bloods courses through their

viens like a race car on the final lap of the Indy 500. The ref tells them to shake hands...he

steps back...the crowd is defining with screams and chants...the whistle blows...

[ridge45 0]

I only posted this here so that my English teacher could find it and grade it. My printer is broke. I wrote it in about 45 minutes. Give me your thoughts on it if you want.

[pld103 0]

Come on now you gotta let us know who wins.LOL

[ridge45 0]

I was gonna go through the whole match and the aftermath but it was about 1:30 in the morning on a Tuesday and I was like eff that. lol.

[INDIANwrestler 0]

I just read bits and pieces because I'm procrastinating on my homework...I enjoyed reading that though.. I like you kind of left us in suspense at the end, but an ending proably would've been nice as well

[PATRIOT165 0]

Thats Really Good. I might just plagerize it!lol But seriously YOu should finish it Cuz I  know you spent some time on this! I would read it.

[thelowseed 0]

I was gonna go through the whole match and the aftermath but it was about 1:30 in the morning on a Tuesday and I was like eff that. lol.

finish this dusty because you used my name and my name never loses!

[ridge45 0]

finish this dusty because you used my name and my name never loses!

What? lol. What do you mean I used your name?