Excerpt from pages 71-72 of Derryan Derrough's "Incomparable: The Legend of Angel Morland", available on Amazon and from other book sources in paperback.
..."Out of bounds!" Coach yells after blowing the whistle. I let up the slightest bit, and Parks drives as hard as he can. "I said break!" Coach yells even louder. I can feel a tweak in my knee and I let out a small bark as Parks stands up. I hold my knee, my face buried atop the sweat-filled mat. I grit my teeth in pain, but mix it with anger. I can't believe that Parks did that, accident or not; it was cheap and uncalled for, no matter what. Maybe because I'm winning... oh, I didn't tell you the score, did I? The score is 3-1, with the 3rd period just starting.
At the beginning of the 3rd and final period, I let Parks up - giving him a point in the process - and I'm kind of favoring my knee. That idiot tried to hurt me, and he sees that I'm hurt. He starts to shoot on my good leg to make me defend with my newly made bad leg, and I grimace with every movement, but nothing's going to stop me from beating this dude again. My hatred far outweighs my pain, as Parks drives me backward with a double leg. Sensing that I'm in trouble, I plant my feet and violently throw Parks, but we end up going out of bounds.
Again.
That would've been five if we were inbound. Couldashouldawoulda. With the score 3-2 (in favor of me) we jog back to the center and step on our respective lines again, the whistle blowing to start up again, about a minute and a half left. While we're both jockeying for position, Parks sets up a nice shot, getting in on my leg again. As soon as he gets in, I sit out and lock his legs up, putting my opponent in a precarious position. It's called a Spladle, for you wrestling purists. Look it up if you're not a purist. Ask around.
Whatever you want to do.
Either way, he was only getting out by some miracle as I cinched my grip even tighter, listening to him roar in pain as the time wore down. He tried to hurt me, now I'm GOING to hurt him. As Coach starts counting back points for me, I cinch the grip even tighter, Parks's legs splitting even wider as he struggles. The more he struggles, the more I want him to hurt. I cinch now as tight as I can, causing Parks to yell out in pain, which in turn, caused Coach to stop the match.
"Break! Break!" He yells, patting me on the arm. I break immediately, letting Parks go. I now stand over him like he stood over me when he tried to hurt me. Do you know what it feels like to be forced to do the splits?
Ask Parks, if you really want to know.
There's 10 seconds left, and Parks is in the down position. I watch as he crawls back to the center, not even attempting to stand up from the previous break. Is he that hurt? That tired? That broken? I don't know, and I really don't care...
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unngghh (6)
12/5/2014 15:11Excerpt from pages 71-72 of Derryan Derrough's "Incomparable: The Legend of Angel Morland", available on Amazon and from other book sources in paperback.
http://books.google.com/books?id=bTcbyAgVEKIC&pg=PA71&lpg=PA72#v=onepage&q&f=false
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..."Out of bounds!" Coach yells after blowing the whistle. I let up the slightest bit, and Parks drives as hard as he can. "I said break!" Coach yells even louder. I can feel a tweak in my knee and I let out a small bark as Parks stands up. I hold my knee, my face buried atop the sweat-filled mat. I grit my teeth in pain, but mix it with anger. I can't believe that Parks did that, accident or not; it was cheap and uncalled for, no matter what. Maybe because I'm winning... oh, I didn't tell you the score, did I? The score is 3-1, with the 3rd period just starting.
At the beginning of the 3rd and final period, I let Parks up - giving him a point in the process - and I'm kind of favoring my knee. That idiot tried to hurt me, and he sees that I'm hurt. He starts to shoot on my good leg to make me defend with my newly made bad leg, and I grimace with every movement, but nothing's going to stop me from beating this dude again. My hatred far outweighs my pain, as Parks drives me backward with a double leg. Sensing that I'm in trouble, I plant my feet and violently throw Parks, but we end up going out of bounds.
Again.
That would've been five if we were inbound. Couldashouldawoulda. With the score 3-2 (in favor of me) we jog back to the center and step on our respective lines again, the whistle blowing to start up again, about a minute and a half left. While we're both jockeying for position, Parks sets up a nice shot, getting in on my leg again. As soon as he gets in, I sit out and lock his legs up, putting my opponent in a precarious position. It's called a Spladle, for you wrestling purists. Look it up if you're not a purist. Ask around.
Whatever you want to do.
Either way, he was only getting out by some miracle as I cinched my grip even tighter, listening to him roar in pain as the time wore down. He tried to hurt me, now I'm GOING to hurt him. As Coach starts counting back points for me, I cinch the grip even tighter, Parks's legs splitting even wider as he struggles. The more he struggles, the more I want him to hurt. I cinch now as tight as I can, causing Parks to yell out in pain, which in turn, caused Coach to stop the match.
"Break! Break!" He yells, patting me on the arm. I break immediately, letting Parks go. I now stand over him like he stood over me when he tried to hurt me. Do you know what it feels like to be forced to do the splits?
Ask Parks, if you really want to know.
There's 10 seconds left, and Parks is in the down position. I watch as he crawls back to the center, not even attempting to stand up from the previous break. Is he that hurt? That tired? That broken? I don't know, and I really don't care...
______________________________________
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