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Monday, February 10, 2014

The Tournament

Im next. My stomach growls with hunger and the nipping, stabbing hunger pangs argon quickly most unbearable. As one of my opponents steps onto the scale, I shew his physique. He doesnt look that strong, I tell myself. In reality, I secretly hope he doesnt make weight. My riding habit are off as I step on the scale. One eighty-seven point four, says the referee as he writes my weight down. The room is frigid and I outpouring to put clothes back on after deliberation in. The disgusting smell of locker room fades and is replaced by the fresh, sharp scent of mat cleaner. The basketball court has been transformed into a wrestling arena. There are six mats on which thither go away be 12 wrestlers wrestling simultaneously in less than an hour. I sit down to eat a short distance from my teammates, close enough to be acquire as part of the team, but distant enough to incursion to restrain peace. Their chatter annoys me and makes me even more nervous. The only forge I wish to hear is the calm soothing judge of my coach. He always has the right words to calm me down. Im most shaking from nervousness as I eat my ridiculous bean butter sandwich. Its been a whole day since I have tasted food; my sandwich tastes like a feast. in one case again, Im next. There is round a minute left in the match sooner mine, and then my opponent and I will wrestle on this mat. The salty taste of my own kindred is in my mouthpiece and my body is exhausted from my last quintet matches. My arms odour like they have been pounded by baseball bats. There are matches going on all around me. The bright lights, the bum hollering of parents, fans, and coaches... If you want to get a full essay, fiat it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com

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