Again – Chapter 24 – JohnA Passaro
Exhaustion without reward is torture.
December 28th, 2014
One would think that the first few days’ home after a long hospital stay would be emotionally uplifting.
They are not.
They are physically and emotionally draining.
It is the time when my body releases all the built up frustration, pressure and apprehension.
My mind and my body have been on red alert for so long that I forgot what it is like to be calm.
My pendulum had swung all the way to the right and is now starting to swing all the way to the left.
The first few days’ home from a long hospital stay are the times when I physically and emotionally crash.
It is going to be a great weekend of wrestling.
First I am going to watch Travis wrestle the second day of his dual meet tournament, and then I am going to drive Maverick to Pennsylvania to watch him wrestle in the Wilkes Barre Open.
In my world, it doesn’t get much better than that.
I am sitting in the stands at Sachem North High School watching Travis compete.
He is eight matches into his weekend.
Although Travis has won every match, he does not look good.
He looks vulnerable.
My heart goes out to him.
I could not imagine having someone trying to physically maul me right now.
I am shot.
Physically and emotionally shot.
I am sure he is too.
Travis is currently 18-0 on the season, ranked #1 in New York State and is currently on the mat with an opponent who would so desperately love to take advantage of his unknown vulnerability.
He does not.
Travis stems off his opponent’s relentless attack to win a 6-2 victory.
“Maverick, I am on my way to pick you up, we will get to the hotel by 11 pm, get a good nights sleep and weigh in in the morning.”
“How is your weight?”
“Dad, my weight is great, but I can’t move. My back just went out,” Maverick says to me in a rather solemn voice.
“Mav, with a good night’s rest, you will be fine in the morning,” I reply.
“Dad, I know when it is going to be fine with rest and when it will not. My back is out, and it is not getting better by tomorrow.”
The only thing that goes through my mind is the promise I made to myself:
“Don’t be Barry Switzer, be their dad.”
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