Wrestling! I mean…Boxing!
This evening, I turned up at wrestling, only to discover a competition in full swing! Paris vs South England!
Although I agree to fight (I don’t know who was more surprised, me or the coach!), it turned out there was nobody of my weight available.)
Interestingly, my first ever competition was in the very same room, on the very same mat, against the very same club! At the time, however,the guy closest to my experience and weight was from my own club. Unfortunately, he hadn’t purchased any wrestling boots, so went into the bout wearing his trainers instead…
…five seconds later, I broke his ankle.
It was the first move of my first ever wrestling match…yet it defined the rest of my wrestling ‘career’.
I essentially developed a phobia of hurting people. Obviously, nobody wants to hurt anybody, but unintentionally breaking somebody turned me from casually considerate to totally paranoid.
Having nobody to fight, I watched a few of the bouts and then left – to go boxing instead.
For some reason, by the time I got there, I lacked energy. It was probably the full day at work, followed by a commute to Slough and back again – all off the back of a sandwich at lunchtime. Although I managed to cling on and push through, I certainly wasn’t firing on all cylinders.