In the locker room, getting ready for the meet,
Put on my gear, can't stand the heat.
I walk out into the gym, sweat on my face,
How I'll get through this, it's too fast paced.
My teammates welcome me to the stands,
Where we watch the others wring their hands.
Good luck to all before us,
We stand and cheer in perfect chorus.
My turn comes and my headgear is on,
The clock is ticking, my ready time gone,
As I step onto the mat,
My opponent stands and is big enough to knock me flat.
My stomach tightens, I'm going to lose this match,
The coach's fixed gaze I catch.
He nods in a reassuring way,
On this mat I will stay.
With all this noise I cannot hear,
When this is over I will not shed a tear.
My coach is screaming above the crowd,
My vision a blur, my thoughts in a cloud.
The opponent and I shake hands,
Get ready to wrestle, and adjust our bands.
Our feet are fast when the ref's whistle blows,
We watch each other, and each of us knows,
that there is no such thing as being nice,
when he slams me onto the mat, my lip takes a slice.
My face hurts but I cant give in,
In this match I have to win.
The ref calls time, is my face okay?
I cannot do this another day.
Coach walks over and gives some advice,
I try to listen but its hard when you know you'll be diced.
Onto the mat we go again,
My focus isnt on the pain.
Again as we shuffle around,
His leg wraps around mine and I fall to the ground.
I can hear everyone yelling, but it's much too loud,
My mind and thoughts, still in a cloud.
I flip ontop and smash his face on the floor,
That is five points added to my score.
He flips me over, over his back,
Pushing me down, I feel like a tack.
Though I am pinned, it's not the end,
A broken spirit can and will mend.
(I wrote this poem in memory of a time when I felt confident and proud. I was a girl going up against guys who didnt want to lose to a girl. They fought harder than they did in any of their other matches, but I would not go down without a fight. I miss that time in glory and fun....)
