wheel.
As I filed off the field, thinking this was not the worst thing that could happen to a guy, the coach—now he was the one looking wiped out from catching—called in my direction. But he was talking to Vinnie.
“Vin, put a splint on that kid with the finger. I want him back here tomorrow.”
Mom,
Got transferred to a more gentlemanly sport today, baseball. No contact. Good, right? Couple of bruises anyway, because, well, I’m gifted at that. Some regular hit-in-the-coconut injuries, and some others that I can’t talk about in mixed company. You’d have to be a catcher to understand.
The bonk on the head didn’t hurt much, so don’t worry. You weren’t, were you? Worrying? Oh, good.
Did I mention that I played baseball today? A more gentlemanly sport than football, I think.
My head doesn’t hurt at all. I did get bonked, though.
How’s the wife and kids?
So I hope I can count on your support in November.
I played soccer all day today. I scored many goals. Sheba was there too.
Sincerely,
um,
ah,
hnn.
Chapter 5: Grappling Knight
T HE BASEBALL DOOR CLOSED as abruptly as it had opened. New day, new slot, new Elvin. By decree. “Wrestling, Thor? How do you come up with that?”
“There were a lot of casualties the last two days out of wrestling. Slots are open. Besides, it’s the only program that actually has a category with your name on it: Junior Heavyweight.”
“Come on, don’t you have anything else?”
“Sure,” he said, smiling. “I could squeeze you into Swimming Sector, but you gotta wear this.” Out of his breast pocket Thor produced a Lycra Speedo bathing suit, grape with diagonal lime-green lightning bolts. He pulled it down over his fist, and it fit snugly.
“One size fits all,” he said, smirking.
“I should,” I said, sounding almost like I meant it. “It’d serve you all right, to look at me in that thing. I’d wear it to all the meals.”
He continued to hold it out to me.
“Where do I get my wrestling gear?” I moaned.
“At the venue.” He pointed up the hill to the hall.
When I turned to go, I was surprised to feel Thor’s arm on me. He gripped my forearm hard and pulled me back.
“Elvin, I want to give you some advice. You’re a funny kid, and I like you. You don’t take the whole slotting thing seriously, and that’s cool, but for your own sake just try to take it a little more seriously. Try to find a place. I don’t want to say nothing bad about the school now, but it could be a long four years for a guy if he doesn’t have a place. Know?”
He looked so serious, as if he was telling me of a death in the family, that he gave me a chill. I couldn’t answer him, couldn’t really tell if he’d even asked me anything.
“Just a little more seriously, that’s all. It’s better for a guy like you, in a big school. You want to have a place. You don’t want to not have a place. Just advice. Okay, Elvin?”
That time, it sounded like a question. “Okay,” I said, because Thor seemed to want to help me. But I didn’t know what I could do with that advice.
When I walked up the steps of the dining hall, under the poor semi-naked Massachusetts Indian that I was staring at more and more, I felt my stomach knot.
“Ah, and in they continue to roll,” the perfect coach announced. In a crowd of a thousand people you would point to this man—hard and energetic and crew cut—and say this guy is a wrestling coach. “The traditional day-three football washouts,” he said, up on his toes and gesturing as he spoke. “Am I right?”
“You are right,” I said. “Except I’m a two-day football washout via a one-day layover in baseball.”
“Catcher!” Coach said, excited by his own savvy.
“Catcher it was,” I said.
“Well, son, I do hope you find a home here with the Grappling Knights. We’d love to have you.”
He was a little corny, but he sounded all right. My stomach briefly unballed. Then I got a load of the grunting,
As I filed off the field, thinking this was not the worst thing that could happen to a guy, the coach—now he was the one looking wiped out from catching—called in my direction. But he was talking to Vinnie.
“Vin, put a splint on that kid with the finger. I want him back here tomorrow.”
Mom,
Got transferred to a more gentlemanly sport today, baseball. No contact. Good, right? Couple of bruises anyway, because, well, I’m gifted at that. Some regular hit-in-the-coconut injuries, and some others that I can’t talk about in mixed company. You’d have to be a catcher to understand.
The bonk on the head didn’t hurt much, so don’t worry. You weren’t, were you? Worrying? Oh, good.
Did I mention that I played baseball today? A more gentlemanly sport than football, I think.
My head doesn’t hurt at all. I did get bonked, though.
How’s the wife and kids?
So I hope I can count on your support in November.
I played soccer all day today. I scored many goals. Sheba was there too.
Sincerely,
um,
ah,
hnn.
Chapter 5: Grappling Knight
T HE BASEBALL DOOR CLOSED as abruptly as it had opened. New day, new slot, new Elvin. By decree. “Wrestling, Thor? How do you come up with that?”
“There were a lot of casualties the last two days out of wrestling. Slots are open. Besides, it’s the only program that actually has a category with your name on it: Junior Heavyweight.”
“Come on, don’t you have anything else?”
“Sure,” he said, smiling. “I could squeeze you into Swimming Sector, but you gotta wear this.” Out of his breast pocket Thor produced a Lycra Speedo bathing suit, grape with diagonal lime-green lightning bolts. He pulled it down over his fist, and it fit snugly.
“One size fits all,” he said, smirking.
“I should,” I said, sounding almost like I meant it. “It’d serve you all right, to look at me in that thing. I’d wear it to all the meals.”
He continued to hold it out to me.
“Where do I get my wrestling gear?” I moaned.
“At the venue.” He pointed up the hill to the hall.
When I turned to go, I was surprised to feel Thor’s arm on me. He gripped my forearm hard and pulled me back.
“Elvin, I want to give you some advice. You’re a funny kid, and I like you. You don’t take the whole slotting thing seriously, and that’s cool, but for your own sake just try to take it a little more seriously. Try to find a place. I don’t want to say nothing bad about the school now, but it could be a long four years for a guy if he doesn’t have a place. Know?”
He looked so serious, as if he was telling me of a death in the family, that he gave me a chill. I couldn’t answer him, couldn’t really tell if he’d even asked me anything.
“Just a little more seriously, that’s all. It’s better for a guy like you, in a big school. You want to have a place. You don’t want to not have a place. Just advice. Okay, Elvin?”
That time, it sounded like a question. “Okay,” I said, because Thor seemed to want to help me. But I didn’t know what I could do with that advice.
When I walked up the steps of the dining hall, under the poor semi-naked Massachusetts Indian that I was staring at more and more, I felt my stomach knot.
“Ah, and in they continue to roll,” the perfect coach announced. In a crowd of a thousand people you would point to this man—hard and energetic and crew cut—and say this guy is a wrestling coach. “The traditional day-three football washouts,” he said, up on his toes and gesturing as he spoke. “Am I right?”
“You are right,” I said. “Except I’m a two-day football washout via a one-day layover in baseball.”
“Catcher!” Coach said, excited by his own savvy.
“Catcher it was,” I said.
“Well, son, I do hope you find a home here with the Grappling Knights. We’d love to have you.”
He was a little corny, but he sounded all right. My stomach briefly unballed. Then I got a load of the grunting,
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