The whistle shrieks. TWEET! And the world slows down. My one focus is my opponent, my enemy. It probably looks like we are circling, but it’s more like a fluid dance between panthers; waiting for a weakness. I spot something, a slight lag in my opponent’s foot. I take advantage with a lightning fast shot and my opponent sprawls nearly as fast. Not fast enough though. I drive with my legs and pick up his- continuing to smash his back to the ground. My opponent twists in my grip and is on his hands and knees. Now I’m covering him on top.

“TWO!” The referee shouts to the scorers.
I add it to the mental scoreboard in my head.
2-0.
My opponent thrases in my iron hard grip and continues to step up, twisting through my hold and spinning back to face me.
The referee holds up a one for my opponent. After all, he’s escaped.
2-1.
If my enemy takes a shot and succeeds I will be down one point. On the other hand, if I take a shot and succeed I will be up four to one. I glanced at the clock. Thirty seconds left in the period. I made my decision.
“OOMF!” Someone grunted. I’m not sure if it was my opponent or I. I struggle for position against his legs sprawled out on the ground, using my head, legs, and arms for all I am worth. With his chest pressing heavily against mine, weighing more than me, I slip from under him and spin around to the top. Yes!
“TWO!” The referee shouts to the scorers again.
4-1.
I hold on to my opponent for as long as possible.
He stands up, I push him out of the ring.
He stands up, I push him out of the ring.
He stands up, I push him out of the ring.
BUZZZZZ! The timer for the first period goes off. I put my arms over my head, heaving air like a man who just held his breath for ten minutes. I hop up, shake myself out, and jog to my coach sitting in the corner.
“Good shots Henry,” he says. “When you go back out there, if you win the toss I want you to choose down. If not, just keep doing what you’re doing. Got it?”
  A quick nod of my head and I jog back to the middle of that tiny, sweaty colosseum. My muscles burn with fatigue I can feel down to my bones, but I ignore it. The ref tosses his colored circle and lands on green. My color is green; I get to choose.
“Top, bottom, or defer?” the ref asked me. I give him a thumbs down sign for bottom, and he nods. He signals me to get in the correct position. Hands and knees down the ref tells my opponent to cover me. He puts one hand on my stomach and another on my elbow.
TWEET!
I explode forward, flinging my arm free of my opponent before he has a chance to grab it. I stand up, try to twist back into him but I do not succeed. He drives me forward and we both land out of the ring.
Attempt number two. The ref blows his whistle and this time I use a different move. I sit out, my back against my opponent. He tries to pull me down but I turn into him and pull away before he can do anything else.
Again, the referee shows a one to the scorers.
5-1.
I smile. I’m dominating him! But I thought too soon. I lost my focus and he took advantage by taking a shot on me. Taken by surprise, I shove his hands away with a bone-jarring forearm shiver. But it’s not enough. I could either go down to my knees or back right now. I choose knees, and let him finish the takedown.
“TWO!” Mr. Referee shouts. Some of the crowd cheers, but that’s at the back of my mind.
5-3.
He’s up a few more points, but it doesn’t matter. Down is my best position and no one can hold me here. I explode up for a stand-up, but I don’t stand. I turn around in his grip and grab his knees, driving backwards. He lands on his back, and I’m on top. I scramble to pin his shoulders down and put him in a headlock.
Mr. Ref goes into action, sprinting to the mat and laying down so he can see my opponent’s shoulders. My enemy twists and heaves, but it’s not enough. I glance at the clock and see there is twelve seconds left. I do my best to pin his shoulders down but I can’t. He’s desperate not wanting to lose, so he flops like a fish out of water.
BUZZZZZ! The second period is over. My opponent gets up, rubbing his neck.
The referee shows a two to the scorers, then a three for the seconds I almost pinned him.
10-3.
“Henry!” coach shouts. I look over where he is sitting.
“What?”
“Keep it up! All you need to do is not get pinned and not try anything stupid. Do that, and you will be a state champ!” he says to me.
I grin and return to the mat. My opponent is waiting for me, on hands and knees, muscles bunched up like a cheetah ready to spring.
“Set?” The ref asks his him. My opponent nods. “Cover.” The ref looks at me as he says it to know I’m paying attention. I get down.
One hand on his stomach.
One hand on his elbow.
Ready to go.
TWEET!
I do something unexpected. My boring opponent goes for the usual stand-up but as he does I tackle him and sweep his legs from under him. Falling hard, my opponent lands on his side. He tries in vain to build up to his knees once more, but my death-like grip held him fast as I dug my head into the side of his back. Pulling my head up, I watch the scoreboard.
52 seconds.
I hold on to him for longer, watching the seconds tick by. Eventually I have do something, realizing I might get a stalling call.
Time for what I do best. I make it look like I’m trying to pin him. Floundering his arm up and down, driving my legs, building him up, breaking him down. I’m a master of deception.
No stalling call.
The scoreboard now reads ten seconds, and my opponent and I both know who won.
BUZZZZZ! Goes the scoreboard, and suddenly, it’s all over. My world comes back into focus.
I see the big crowd
I see the spot where my family sits
I scream, shouting, making wild poses
Celebrating.
And finally it’s time for the handshake. The referee tells us to come to the middle of the ring and shake hands. My enemy and I look each other in the eye, and we both have respect for each other. No more words are exchanged other than a “Great job man” or a “Congratulations.”
But so much more is exchanged over that simple, easy handshake. Feelings, knowledge, respect, lots of emotions.
We are done shaking hands. The ref turns me around to face the crowd.
This is my moment! It’s what I’ve been going for all year!
He thrusts my hand up into the air, and the crowd cheers. I’ve won!

In the end, all the hard work, years of practice, and injuries pay off. You finally get to reap the plants you have sown and collect the rewards. To bask in the glory of your accomplishments, to feel like something makes you better, sets you apart from everyone else. If you haven’t had this experience, I have three words for you.

You haven’t lived.