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Hot Dog

A Little Ketchup

I hadn’t change too much. I am still four feet nine inches tall and eighty-nine pounds. I expand my high school horizons. I am now first clarinet in the school band. I play a wind-up nutcracker in the school play. Mr. Robinson the gym teacher needed someone to represent the school in my weight class asked me to join the wrestling team. So, I did and while I am not the most skilled, I win most of the matches in my weight class. There is one other kid, and I win every match when I face him. That is until one day. The day elastic grandma came over for a visit. 

Hold The Relish

Foot long hotdogs were like cocaine for grandma, and when she came to visit, she wanted her fix. My mom says Be a good boy and get your Meme’ (grandma) some lunch.  I tell her I have a match at school. She convinces me that I had enough time. Hi Ho, Hi Ho off to Hi Ho I go.  I had enough time to run to the restaurant get the dogs and hi tail it back to school. I get the dogs, drop them off and run to school but I am late and it’s for the medals. I went from gold to silver because I was five minutes late. This would not be the only time I’d be out of the medals.

Too Much Mustard

Our wrestling team was getting some attention. I wasn’t getting as much because all I had to do is show up. I didn’t care, winning via a forfeit is still winning. Sometimes all you have to do to win is to show up. One day I showed up and so did someone else. I had never seen this kid before. He was the same size and weight, but this kid looked scary. I remember seeing his hair. He has an afro but there were clumps of hair missing off his scalp and his face is a sea of freckles. I look at him and I’m intimidated. I try a little self talk. I got this I tell myself. We meet in the middle shake hands at it’s go time. Or should I say wake up time. I don’t know what happened to him or what his story was, but I knew one thing, I wasn’t going to be pinned at the end of it. Oh, how that story changed.  It was the fastest match I ever had. It was over in seconds. I was pinned like a thumb tack on a corkboard. Suddenly, that silver medal didn’t matter as much. My father would say to me in moments like these, did you learn something son? I did learn something. I learned that I wasn’t as tough as I thought I was and how fast a hot dog could get cooked. 

Luckily, there would be more medals to win. I would get a gold for music down the road, and I am more proud of that.

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