Takedown Read Free Page B

a bulletin board with team schedules and announcements.
    Both boys stood outside the office for about ten minutes while Coach talked on the phone. They didn’t say anything. Donald glanced at Tavo without turning his head. The guy had bigger arm muscles than he did, and he stood straighter. And he had confidence, no doubt about that.
    Coach was apparently talking to his wife. “Look, it’ll happen when he’s ready. He’s just being stubborn. . . . Give him a book to look at. . . . The one with the bird who lost his mother; he’s got that one memorized. . . . Well, we can’t force him. He’ll get it sooner or later.”
    Finally Coach hung up. “My two-year-old,” he said, swiveling in his chair to face the boys. “Toilet training.”
    Coach looked at Donald. “You learn anything today, Jenkins?”
    Donald shrugged. “I suppose.”
    Coach pointed to Tavo but kept his eyes on Donald. “When you go against a smart wrestler like Tavo, you can’t let yourself get frustrated.” He pointed to his head. “Clear thinking. If you start seeing red, you’ll get pounded. He’ll pin you in a second. You’ve got balance and heart and pretty good strength, and I suspect you’ve got some brains, too.”
    Coach stopped talking and gave Donald a hard stare.
    “Okay,” Donald said.
    “You’ll turn out to be a good wrestler if you stick with it and control your temper. After Tavo pins you about a hundred more times, I suspect you’ll start to catch on.”
    Donald blushed. He looked sideways at Tavo. Tavo nudged him with his elbow and gave him an upward nod, looking kind of friendly, which was a surprise.
    “You may not like it, but wrestling Tavo every day is the best gift a wrestler like you could get,” Coach said. “He’ll keep slaughtering you, but you’ll get better a lot faster than if I paired you with somebody else.
    “One more thing: If you start fights, you’ll be off the team. Now get out of here.” He waved them back toward the lockers.
    Donald followed Tavo back. As they reached the locker room, Tavo turned and said, “Guys who lose their temper get eaten alive in this sport.”
    Donald didn’t reply.
    Kendrick was dressed and tying his shoes when Donald got back. Most of the other seventh-graders were already gone.
    “You in trouble?” Kendrick asked.
    “Nah.”
    “What was with the extra running today?”
    “Me and Tavo got in a scruffle. It was no big deal.”
    “I didn’t see him running.”
    Donald yanked his soaking T-shirt over his head and fumbled with his lock. “I guess he was too tired.”
    “Yeah, right.”
    They were the last two in the locker room now. Coach came in and chased them out. Donald grabbed his backpack and put on his sneakers without tying them. “See you tomorrow, Coach. I’ll be the one flat on my back again.”

5
    First Match
    T wo weeks passed quickly, with rugged work-outs and constant learning of new wrestling moves. Tavo had continued to pin Donald repeatedly during practice, but Coach demonstrated a few counter moves that helped him fend off a few of the attacks.
    The work made Donald hungry all the time. He’d sit in his morning classes wishing the clock would move more quickly so he could eat lunch.
    Now here he was, suited up in the red-and-black Hudson City wrestling uniform, nervously stretching and running in place, minutes away from his first real match.
    He put on his headgear and fastened the chin-strap, letting out a deep breath and staring at the mat in the center of the Hudson City gym. Mario was out there now, struggling to keep from getting pinned by his faster and more limber opponent.
    Coach was loudly instructing Mario what to do—“Roll out of it!”—but the Jersey City wrestler had Mario in a half nelson and was forcing his shoulders toward the mat.
    Donald winced as the referee smacked the mat to signal a pin. Mario had only lasted about fifty seconds. Would Donald do any better? He’d soon find out.
    Donald’s match was one of