Regional Pursuits — Bring It: Chapter 22

Because the drive to Cincinnati took over an hour, possibly more with traffic, our bus was scheduled to depart at nine-thirty. When the time came, Countryside’s version of the ‘Magnificent Seven’ joined the cheerleaders outside the school lobby. Several well-wishers formed a gauntlet to cheer us on as we boarded, intent on furthering our explorations of uncharted territory.

No myth or legend would ever be written about us, perhaps. Events of the next couple of days would determine whether we deserved it. We could not count on accurate newspaper clippings, so scrapbooks we might one-day share with our kids would be absent of facts. Individual memories were all that we would have in case we ever got together in later life and wanted to relive the adventure we shared. If things went well, we might not have to embellish our stories too much.

Aboard the bus, wrestlers sat in their expected places. As it had now become routine, the cheerleaders seemed to have claimed regular seats as well. Jason sat across the aisle from Annie. It was semi-official, now. He told me they had a date for Sunday after church. I learned, much to my surprise, that his cousins attended her church. Maybe their relationship would grow some legs after all.

“And so, it begins,” I muttered to no one as the bus pulled away from the school. “And it continues.”

In my usual place at the back, everyone else respected my territory. There was a conclusive feel to the day so far. Hopes were high that we might be good enough as a team to knock off some of the big-city schools at the regional event. Reality and logic said otherwise. No one dared comment, though I’d learned not to bet against our team.

I reached peaceful acceptance for where I was and how far I advanced. It was a rare kind of dream that kept resuming each morning. Until the day when there was no awards platform left to ascend, I had no thoughts of waking. A lot of things in my recent life left me feeling that way, not the least of which was my relationship with Pam. What did I do to deserve her? Heaven forbid I ever close my eyes and not see her face.

No longer sure about the possibilities, the strange abilities that had driven me through the district championships were inaccessible. I couldn’t count on those, and it was just as well. Because of my hypersensitivity and the energy that I felt welling inside, I damned near killed Mark Heath. Reflecting on the previous day, though, it felt almost like it might have been my imagination. Had I really been able to sense all those things?

Anyway, I figured I didn’t need a boost. Omniscience and omnipotence were not for me. Based on my experience and the winning streak I was on — having not lost a match since January — or really December if you took away the forfeits, I had the necessary skill set to be where I was. So, I might continue to advance for a while longer. What was for certain was that Saturday would be the absolute end of the wrestling season for everyone, whether or not I was fortunate enough to be there.

My first tennis meet was less than a week away, though I doubted I’d actively participate. I had yet to attend any practices. That started on Monday. Conditioning was not an issue. I would be using different muscles, though. In the best shape I had ever been, I would still need to shift my mental focus to a different sport. How would three days be enough to prepare me for a competitive match — one that counted? Look how much Renée trained. From what Pam told me, her tennis life had been almost as rigorous and time-consuming.

Pam would afford me some private lessons on Sunday. That personalized tutoring would benefit me in the long run, I was sure. Still, a mere few hours of play would matter little in the grand scheme of my first official week on the tennis courts.

Last night, Pam asked me if I was going to win the regional tournament. That was her way of testing to see if I had regained my drive to win. Sure, I defeated Mike Smith in the finals, but the whole thing with Mark Heath was fresh in my mind and hers. That scared her at least as much as it did me. I had not liked who I was after that any more than what I did to him. I didn’t realize how fragile life was, even when the guy had more than seventy pounds on me.

When I expressed self-doubt about winning any more matches, Pam countered citing my ranking in the state. I conceded her point. Someone believed I was good enough. Honestly, I did too. There’s no point competing if you don’t believe you’re good enough. There was a lot of luck involved along the way that got me to where I was. That lessened the sense of accomplishment. Between today and tomorrow, there’d have to be more luck if I were to survive. But was any of that different than it had been all season long?

As I sat at the back of the bus, I continued to pour over recollections of moments when I believed I could do something unusual and triumphed. Never had it been anything so glaring that it gained the serious attention of others, but there were examples. Always it was my confidence that helped, but that was only part of the secret. There was a connection. How had it taken me so long to figure that out? Before I expected anything to happen, first I needed to believe it was possible. Naturally, magic follows an opportunity that an open mind created.

Finally, a little before ten-forty, we pulled into the Riverfront sports complex. My thoughts shifted to Pam. Missing her as much as I did wasn’t helping me focus. Three matches — I would do my best because that was how I was wired. My personal integrity would not allow me to give in to self-doubt. What I did on the mat was not for me as much as for the team. It couldn’t be wrong to win if the contest were fair?

Eager to exit the bus, with the ladies already out of the bus, I urged the other wrestlers to hurry up.

“Hold your taters,” Kevin said.

“It’s not my taters I’m holding.”

“Oh, God! Is the levee’s gonna break!”

“Clear me a path to the nearest restroom. If you open the door and point the direction, I can hit the spot from here.”

Jason laughed as he looked back at me, shaking his head.

“Hey, it was a long ride.”

“Try thinking of baseball or something,” he suggested.

“What good will that do?”

“It works for some things,” Kevin said with a wink.

“I wouldn’t know about that.”

“Sure, okay,” Kevin smiled. “I might believe that.”

“How many matches do we need to win?” Purposefully, I changed the subject.

“Twenty-one’s the magic number, and everybody goes home happy tonight.”

“Is that the goal?”

“It’s always the goal. The math is simple. Seven guys win all their matches so no one else can beat us for the team title. Celebration all around.”

“Everybody on this bus, anyway.”

“Our team is all we care about.”

Once we were inside the complex, I wasn’t the only one who hit the restroom. I felt ten pounds lighter. During the weigh-in, that wasn’t confirmed, though. Two-hundred-twenty-one even, the referee called out for the official record.

“You’re still gaining weight?” Coach Ellis asked.

“A little.”

“You eat like a bird.”

“Actually, birds eat a lot. They have to with all that flapping around. It burns a lot of calories.”

The coach frowned.

“Anyway, I’ve been busy, and I’ve missed a few meals, otherwise I’d be bigger.”

“You gotta be the only heavyweight in the state that misses a few meals.” He shook his head.

“Am I still the lightest in the state?”

“You keep this up you won’t be. Not that I want you to lose any weight.”

“Just look at me.” I struck a pose. “One hundred percent USDA prime.” I flexed my biceps for emphasis. “Muscle weighs more than flab.”

“Are you suggesting I’m fat?”

“No, not you, old man.”

“Now you’re calling me old?” He shook his head. “Just get dressed out and hit the mat for stretches. Okay?”

“You’re no fun.”

“At least you’re in a better mood.”

Coach Friske waited for me and motioned me along. He looked concerned.

“I guess you don’t want us to get separated,” I said.

“You have a bad habit of getting lost. So, I’ve been instructed to keep an eye on you.”

“Have I ever not found my way back?”

“No more distractions, okay? This is serious, not that it wasn’t before. Thank God your girlfriend isn’t here, too.”

“I doubt there was any divine intervention in that. I prefer thinking the universe intends to nudge us closer. Kind of far-fetched we’re together in the first place…”

“Well, she has been a distraction at times.”

“I suppose she has but more often, she’d been the inspiration I needed. So, don’t wish away my luck so easily.”

He patted me on the back. “In case you aren’t aware of it — and I truly doubt that — this is the biggest thing in our school’s history. Seven wrestlers going to the Southwestern Regional is unprecedented as far as I know. Certainly, no Springfield team has ever done that. This is vital for our program. Our basketball team had a phenomenal season, but they lost in the district semi-finals. Do you begin to understand what this is doing for the sport? Coach Ellis has forty kids already interested in try-outs, five for unlimited class!”

“What a difference a year makes!”

“You’ve made an impact, Brent. I’m not saying Ralph, Tommy, Chuck, Gary, Timmy and Kevin haven’t played their parts, but at the beginning of the season, Don and I sat down and really looked at everyone’s strengths and weaknesses.”

“I was the unknown.”

“You were. But we looked at why you wanted to wrestle and what it said about you as a person. You’ve given a lot of kids at school a role model. A year ago, heck six months ago, who were you?”

“Brent Who, as Kevin so aptly called me.”

“Exactly.”

“I think you’re overstating my influence, though.”

“We’re probably going to have to find another equipment manager for next year, ’cause Kenny wants to take Ralph’s place when Ralph moves up to 115 pounds. That’s just one example.”

“Sounds to me like Ralph was the inspiration, too.”

“That’s not what Kenny says.”

“If I can do it anyone can, right?”

“That’s what’s being said. I don’t know if everyone who’s interested will show up for the tryouts, but Don and I are certain you inspired some kid to give it a shot — kids who have never been in athletics before to give it a shot.”

Having dressed in my uniform and warmups, I stored my belongings in a locker and closed the door, applying my combination lock to it. “Then, I guess I need to win another tournament or two, right?”

Coach Friske began his briefing on my upcoming opponents. “You need to be concerned about district nine’s champion.”

“I probably need to be concerned about everyone in my path.”

“Yeah, that’s true, but this guy named Marvin Reynolds is taller and heavier than I am and quick. He’s undefeated this season. Heath beat him last year in the quarterfinals here. What I hear, he took Mark to the third round before the pin. He’s improved a lot since then. That’s the guy to beat if you’re going to win this thing.”

“So, how’s the seeding?”

“They made you number three.”

I nodded. “And this Reynolds?”

“He’s number two. Frankly, that surprised me. The top seed shouldn’t be where he is. It should be either Reynolds or you. I don’t know how you can go undefeated nearly all season and be the first wrestler to defeat Heath — and you’ve beaten him consistently ever since — and you’re currently ranked third in the state, but you’re seeded third in the regional?”

“It’s all politics.”

“It doesn’t make sense.”

“Maybe the reception on their crystal ball is better.”

He shook his head. “Be serious and focused. There are a lot of wrestlers here who’d love to be the one to beat you.”

“And yesterday you complained about me being moody.”

“I take it back, okay?”