Abe Wrestling Story

Chapter 1:“Came up short”:”Live downtown,we have the Marsh Eagles VS Tenney Tigers. This is such an anticipated match and one for the ages”. This is what it looked like but in reality it was more like this. “Welcome to Methuen,MA where we have the Marsh Eagles against the Tenney Tigers. This is just 2 teams just fighting for the next spot in the playoffs. Then I walked in and it was game time,the playoffs were on their way. The only real anticipated matchup was me and my frenemy (mostly friends) Andrew Lussier. He's about my height but not athletic compared to me, they came out to a fire start. Then we went on a run of our own and got the game to 2 points and we were rolling. As the half was close to the end,Andrew had a fast break layup

Dan Gable was born on October 25th 1948 in Waterloo Iowa. He had a sister named Diana Gable. These two were very close. He was traumatized when she was raped and killed in her home while the family was away. He started wrestling when his swimming was almost over just so he could make his sister proud. He trained day in and day out to try to become undefeated. His senior wrestling career ended with 64-0, he was undefeated throughout the whole year. He was going on to be a College for Iowa. Dan’s motto was to wrestle with the toughest man in the room (Smith Russ 63). Gable won his first one hundred and seventeen matches and held a NCAA record before he lost during the NCAA finals his senior years to Larry Owings. This was one of his harder matches

“Alright pal, you got me,” beamed Finny. Phineas, the only perfect person in the world (hyperbole), just admitted that I had beaten him at something. Once this realization hit me, a moment of pure joy sunk in, until it quickly passed and was followed by an overwhelming sense of disappointment. It wasn’t enough. Without further thought, I quickly flipped Finny, who was caught off guard by his euphoric state, over and pinned him to the ground (parallel structure). To my surprise, after the initial shock left his expression, he began to laugh. Finny had finally been beaten at something athletic, and all he could do was laugh.

Then from the gladdened multitude went up a joyous yell, it rumbled in the mountaintops, it rattled in the dell; It struck upon the hillside and rebounded on the flat; For Casey, mighty Casey was advancing to the bat. Now the crowd was excited and thought that nowthey had a chance of winning the ball game. His teammates had finally made the game interestedand it was up to Casey to see it thru, but did he? Now we see the reaction of the crowd since Casey (the town hero) has come to bat. He stepped up to the plate with pride and a smile on his face. With ten thousand eyes on him and 5 tongues applauding, Casey awaits the first pitch. With such intensity as the pitcher pitches the first ball but Casey didn’t swing causing him to get his first strike. The crowd was becoming angry with one person even calling out to “kill the umpire”, but Casey calmed them down. Then as the pitcher throws the next pitch and Casey not taking the swing causing him to strike again asthe umpire yelled “Strike two”. The crowd begins to yell, “Fraud” in dismay but once again Casey was able to calm them down. This was the last chance for Casey to show them why he was considering the

A man with a deep and raspy voice stated over the loud speaker that “Matthew Kosednar should report to the scales and see a mat coordinator”. There was no turning back. This was it. I swallowed any bit of fear inside me, for what might be my last chance to do so. I stood on the scale and was given the all clear. Making my way to the mats, I would endure the longest five minutes of my life. Finally, a mat was available for my opponent and I. Oh wait! My opponent. I glanced to my right and he had just made it off the scale. One of the largest men I had seen in my entire life stepped forward. A man of seventeen years of age, with remnants of a beard and washboard abs, stepped forward. I tried to stay positive. I told myself that I got this, that I could do

The score was 3 to 3. Only twenty seconds left in the overtime. Everyone was tired The team we were up against had the best defence in the league and we had vigorously fought for our three goals. I got the ball and sprinted down the field. Fifteen seconds left. At the halfway mark a defender came right up on me. Lockdown defence. Ten seconds. It was the final game, the championship. I managed to get around the defender. “Ten, nine, eight, seven…” chanted the crowd. Just inside of the goalie box I took the shot. Five seconds. The ball flew through the air seemingly in slow motion. The goalie hopped up into the air and just barely misses the ball. “Two, one!” The crowd cheered. We had one because of our perseverance. In the story “The Time Machine”

Callused hands, sweaty brow, exhausted arms, and all he sprints into the gym ready to give his all for 2 more hours. After two hours of sprinting around the gym he walks out of the gym more exhausted than when he entered. He hops into his truck and to head home where he is greeted by six children all under the age of 12 ready to play with their dad until it’s time for bed. Adam Doughan is a hero that never gets acknowledged for everything he does in the community, for the basketball team, and for his family with a great heart.

Seeing it best fit to a value of proof, I chose the fastest one there, Angelica. A practice match began and we began scoring against each other. Pads and body parts begin to launch at one another. “1… 2… 3… MATCH!” I won, easily. With my ego boosted a bit, I began a search for another member who was worthy of fighting me. I began to look down the isle. “GERALD” I cried, “come, let’s spar”. Delighted Gerald responded “alright, let’s go!” Gerald was huge, almost doubling my arm length and 1.5 times my height. The instructors took us to our respective corners, we bowed, and the match began. “FIGHT!” In a rush, I threw out my front hand attempting to score my first point, but suddenly I felt something on my stomach. “UP, UP, UP.” The instructor scorched. “POINT, Gerald!” I missed it. I missed my first shot, I missed my first opportunity. Pouncing back into my stance, the instructor screams “Ready?! FIGHT!”. I charged in with whatever I could throw, One.. two.. three.. “UP! POINT, KINI! ONE-ONE, last point wins.” The instructor hollered. “I’m ready, I’m better than him, I’m faster than him, I’m the best” I thought to myself. “FIGHT!” BANG, instantly, I felt a force front me to the head. “UP, UP, UP” my instructor yelled. “POINT-MATCH! Gerald!” We respectively bowed to one another and stepped off the stage.

The entire town comes together to watch an entertaining sport. Spending time with friends and classmates. Cheering the boys on to a win in front of the town of Kindred. “Kindred wins

“…So will August Pullman please come up here to receive his award?” Mr Tushman finished. After a brief moment of shock, I was overcome by an immense feeling of pride and joy. I frantically scanned over the crowd to find Auggie, and when I did, he looked just as in awe as I did. He carefully got up and stumbled onto the stage, and in the corner of my eye, I could see mum and dad hugging each other. When he shook Mr Tushmans hand, mum completely collapsed into dad’s arms.

Ian sat in his hotel room processing what had just happened. With his chin resting on the palm of his hand and his feet crossed and elevated up on the couch, Ian swiftly scrolled through his phone to try to take his mind off the disappointment. The Miller family motto of gritting your teeth resonated with him. Ian’s heeded his mom’s advice, as his reaction to the scoring error reflects his early childhood rearing. Instead

My name appears on the projector screen, and I begin to walk towards the mat I am assigned to. My mother follows in fear with every step she takes, and my father assures that I am already heading to my mat. As my mother and I pace to the mat I realize my opponent is walking in front of us, we both reach the mat at the same time and I choose my side and begin a light warm up, while my mother runs to my father and they begin to analyze the situation. Two matches ahead of mine, the nerves begin to set in, and I realize there is no way back, each personality tries to emerge from the inner depths of my body but none of them can comprehend the goal I set by choosing to compete. Music begins to blast in my ears, unlike other athletes that listen to rap, hip-hop, or “normal” music, the sound that bursts my eardrums is the Hamilton soundtrack.

I strutted into the heavy metal doors that led to the concessions in the US Bank arena. As I walked in I was immediately freezing in the open hallway with stands full of rolling hotdogs and popping popcorn against the walls. The ceilings were high and and everything was cold. The stands were empty and we had no idea where to go. My parents and I were wandering around searching for the weigh ins, and as we explored, we heard a large crowd. We walked towards the sound and there were chairs filled with friends and families aimed towards tables filled with the fighters of the last few fights. I was hesitant because in front of the table full of fighters were a stage with a scale. I got frigid, I asked my parents if they were cold and they said they were fine, so I knew it was because I was nervous.

He told me the night in the hospital what had happened. On the last frame of the late afternoon game, Frank trailed Joe From Accounting by eight points with one more bowl. His competitive spirit took over his rationality. As he walked to the lane, the waitress set down the pizza that he ordered 3 frames ago. The pizza was the best in town. “The greasiest,” Frank would always brag. But, with the looming possibility of a loss, the hunger escaped his mind. Grabbing the twelve-pound ball, he fired it down the lane, hitting seven of the ten pins. “I couldn’t wait to win,” he told me. Because of his stubbier fingers, Frank was the only man on the lane using the heavier ball. With the hungry competition brewing in his body, his impatience led him to grab the eight-pounder. Long story short, he didn’t win the game. Instead, we lost a marriage.

I saw a young man about 5’4 lining up anxious to begin his turn. He got on top of his horse and a chubby man let out a bull. The young boys name was Eduardo and he accelerated his horse, and finally reached the bulls tail. Suddenly Eduardo released the bull’s tail and his white shirt was filled with red blood. The blood was gushing out and he was groaning of pain. Eduardo walked towards Kristy’s mom, who was still on top of the right deck and Chela put a large band aid on Eduardo. Every time one of the players knocked down a bull, I would get so excited and my chest pounded as if I was one of the