Free Pinned by Alfred C. Martino Page A

personal-information request form.
    But a familiar fear stopped him.
I can't do it,
he thought.
Maybe,
he worried,
I'll never be able to do it.
Without another thought, Ivan slid the pages back into the envelope and the envelope, once again, under the mattress.

15
    By nine o'clock, weigh-ins had ended, and a buzz of anticipation filled the Hunterdon Central gymnasium. Sitting high in the stands with his teammates, Bobby looked down on the gym floor, where two mats lay side by side, each with a scorer's table and chairs at opposite corners for coaches. Wrestlers from the eight competing schools had begun warming up—stretching out and drilling moves. At a far entrance, a team in maroon warm-ups walked in.
    Kenny tapped Bobby on the shoulder. "Lennings."
    Bobby sat up. He was curious to see Ivan Korske up close. He watched each wrestler, but none had what the newspapers described as "the musculature of a thoroughbred, the cold stare of a caged panther."
    "I'm ready for Korske," Kenny said.
    Bobby glanced over his shoulder. "Yeah?"
    Kenny nodded. "I don't give a rat's ass if he took a third in the states. Other guys worry about that; not me."
    Finally, the last of the Lennings wrestlers walked through.
    "Well, that's a disappointment," Kenny said. "Big, bad Korske's a no-show."
    It was wishful thinking, Bobby knew. Korske would be there. He'd show up in a big way.
    Moments later, a lone wrestler entered through a second door. It seemed the gymnasium hesitated.
    "Spoke too soon," Bobby said.
    Korske's walk, his gestures, growled, "You know who I am; don't mess with me." Other wrestlers stopped and stared. Korske nodded to a few people, shook hands with the Hunterdon Central coach, then sat down on the bottom bleacher, away from his team.
    Kenny leaned forward. "Look at him. Tryin' to be a tough guy. I'm gonna kick his ass from here to Millburn."
    "Hope you do," Bobby said.
    "Oh, I will."
    And so, Bobby had seen Korske and was duly impressed. Perhaps Korkse had glimpsed him and was impressed, as well. Bobby hoped so, but doubted it. He closed his eyes; facing Ivan Korske—or a wrestler of his stature—would come at another time. And when it did, he knew he'd have to be perfectly prepared. But for now he'd worry about his weight class, his opponents. The murmur of background conversations softened as he ran through dozens of scenarios for the opening whistle of his first-round match. He visualized the mechanics for a single, double, and hi-crotch—his body hitting each perfectly, taking his opponent down to the mat. Then duck unders, leg sweeps, hip throws...
    Soon, he nodded off.

    "Bobby!"
    Someone was nudging his shoulder. Bobby opened his eyes, blinked, and focused.
    "Bobby, wake up," Anthony said.
    "Huh...?"
    "Did ya hear me?"
    Bobby sat up. "What?"
    "Korske's in your weight class."
    "He's going 129?"
    "Must've cut down," Anthony said. "The brackets are up on the wall. He's seeded first; you're second."
    Bobby breathed in—his heartbeat had kicked into high gear—and forced air out his nose.
Lousy way to wake up from a nap.
The cobwebs cleared.
    Kenny rose to his feet. "Come on, let's look at the brackets."
    Bobby didn't move. His body stiffened instinctively, and he stared as defiantly as he could muster at that moment. He would concede nothing, certainly nothing in front of his teammates.
Don't show fear,
he thought.
You're a Millburn captain.
    He saw his teammates hesitate, as if waiting for his response. As abruptly as he awakened, his body was on alert, his mind clear.
    "You can; I don't need to," he said. "I'll see Korske in the finals. I'm ready. I've been ready for him."

    Beneath the bleachers, hidden among the steel supports, Bobby bounced on his toes, then stretched his arms and shoulders. What looked like a crumpled algebra quiz lay at his feet next to an empty Coke can, pencils, and chewed pen caps.
    His first-round match ended in a second-period pin, setting up a semifinal match against