Woody Cavenaugh

It started with a Banzai Institute patch. Ok, it started with a cup of coffee. Actually, it started with me waking up in a blind panic. The sun was shining, I didn't know what time it was and I had to be at Cameron's house by 9am. As it turned out, the time was a quarter til eight, so as long as I didn't waste time, I would make it just fine.

And it wasn't the first cup of coffee it was the second. The first I drank on the way to Cameron's house. The second I sipped as I set up my computer in anticipation of some serious writing. As it happened, the fencing division had other plans, I was summerily summoned to appear before them. My quiet morning of creation ruined, I did the only thing I could do and appear before them to do what I can. I have no idea what they call it, but for the sake of my ego, I prefer calling it "magic".

Later we arrived at Raleigh Fencing Club for a 1pm epee tournament. It was the second event of the day and like the first the turnout far exceeded the expectation. By this point, I had missed lunch, breakfast, and dinner the night before. My food intake for the day included a danish, a package of peanuts and two cups of coffee. Fortunately for me I had no expectations for the day anyway. I pretty much came out to hang out with friends and if lucky burn a few caleries before dinner and beer. I never did get that beer.

Henri had had a good morning, apart from the ankle giving her trouble. I found her propped under an icepack in the care of a full third of the men in the room. Henri is nothing if not resourceful. I did my part by giving her my instant ice pack. It was only fair, she had given it to me months ago when I nearly killed myself at my first tournament of the twenty first century back in July.

I had brought all my jacket patches, and I thought it would be fun to have Henri choose what I would wear. For the past several weeks I had three pirate patches on my jacket. She saw them, and thought I should go with something else, least I be mistaken for a Cape Fear fencer. After much deciding between my Firefly (Wash's) patch, the pirate patches, and my Buckaroo Banzai patches, she finally settled on my Banzai Institute patch. She had no idea what it was from or what it meant, but it went a long way toward deciding my attitude for the day, I think. I will be forever thankful for that blind decision on her part.

My pool beat all expectation. Ok, to be fair, I didn't go in with any expectations. Come to think of it I didn't come in with a plan, or goals of any kind either. After winning my second bout in a row, I told some new friends sitting around me that my goal for the day was ten touches, and as I had already reached my goal for the day I could just coast until dinner time. I won one more bout before the pool was done and scored touches on everyone but one guy. (He ended up taking second.) It would take an entire other blog entry just to try to explain the amazing John Rae.

Out of 41 fencers I had come in 24th. I have always prefered the middle. Of our six fencers representing, I had come in the middle of the pack there as well. Lower middle really. I was the highest placed fencer to not get a bye in the first round so I had to fence the 41st place fencer. I had fenced him in my pool eariler, and liked him instantly. He was a guy from ECU who had only been fencing since September. During the pool as we chatted I told him what he should work on how I fence tall thin fencers as a short fat fencer(as idle chat, not in a "coaching" sort of way). He must have been listening to what I was saying because he really stepped up in the DE scoring four times the touches he scored in pools.

The DE. I should probably talk a little about my attitude and mental state during pools as well as in the DE. I would love to tell you about my witty and insightful inner dialogue, but truth be told I didn't have one. I was simply there in the moment. No one I fenced made a single move that I didn't see comming before they began it (except maybe John Rae). It was like I could see in to the future. I couldn't always change it, but I knew I was hit a second before the light went off. It must have been like what Luke Skywalker felt when he learned to use the force. It just was.
Late in the first period of my DE, Cameron managed to shatter this inner peace and my concentration was broken. R2D2 fell to the ground as it were in a beeping heap. I quickly took three retreats, a deep breath and reminded myself to ask her not to do that anymore at the break. Her offense? She channeled her inner cheerleader and cheered for me at a moment I had done something clever on strip. Regaining my focus, we each scored a touch before the break.

During the first break, Cameron was the perfect coach. She had analized my performance and the performance of my opponent and told me exactly what I needed to do to win the bout. Just as she finished her coaching I teased her about breaking my concentration with her little cheer. She teased back by telling me that she promised she wouldn't do it again...unless I won. I can't honestly say if it was her coaching, her teasing promise, or a combination of the two, but my opponent never touched me again. The final score was 15-4, and I moved on to the round of 32.

As I had already won a DE it was gravy to just be able to fence again and I had no real expectation to win. As my second DE of the day was against the fencer who came in 9th out of pools, it was probably good that I was already way beyond all expectations for the day anyway. The fencer I was facing, was thin, healthy, and fast. The fact that the score ended up like it did proved that I had by far the better coach. Comming into the bout, I had no expectation at all. He expected to win easily. His overconfidence cost him dearly. Because I could see what he was going to try before he tried it, I was happy to take what came and use it. As I said before, the foreknowledge didn't keep him from scoring, but it meant that even when he scored I wasn't surprised. The battle see-sawed each way with one never gaining more than two touches on the other. Every time I got up by one, he would throw a temper tantrium, how is this fat uncaring slob doing this to him??? Well, if he didn't know, I wasn't going to tell him. I have to admit, I really enjoyed his frusteration, but I vowed I wasn't going to be an ass, or goad him on in any way. Don't forget, I'm wearing my Banzai Institute patch, that means I hold to a higher ideal. Be cool, but be nice. This panting fat David, vs the young fit college boy Golieth battle must have been something to behold, by the third period we had gathered quite a crowd and there was much cheering after each touch. The score was 12 me to 13 him, and I slowly slid out of my zone. Had I won that bout, I would just have to fence another one with someone even better. I really felt that the guy I was fencing was better than I, score notwithstanding. He was the better athlete, I just had an advantage. As I pondered this he hit me raising the score to 12-14. With little to lose or gain at this point I went on the hero's sucicide run. He hit me square in my big round bowl of jello, a moment before I picked some lint off of his shoulder with my blade. The referee said "halt", but my opponent couldn't see the box because I was in the way and was afraid, so while I stood there patiently waiting for him to stop, he hit me an additional four times in the stomach. He stopped when some of the crowd started applauding his win. Not willing to just let him get off easy, I grabbed his blade and stabbed myself in the stomach with it another five or six times for good measure. He didn't know quite what to think until I took off my mask laughing and shook his hand graciously. I couldn't remember ever having more fun during a fencing bout, and I owed him a debt of gratitude. Not bad for my forth tournament in ten years.

After retreating to my line, saluting the fencer, referee, and cheering crowd, one of my teammates came over and scolded me for not fencing better at the end. Then another of my teammates came over and praised me for the best fencing they had ever seen out of me. C'est la vie. It was exactly the right bout at the exact right time and I was the best I had ever been before. I may as well have come in first at the olympics the way I felt.

The fencer that beat me 15-12 went on to lose his next DE 15-9.

Eventually Tommy finally got eliminated by John Rae, earning third place and a "D" rating. That meant we could finally have dinner. It was 9:30pm and I was well past starving. I ate my 20 chicken wings without hardly taking a breath. Chicken is protein, and protein was just the medicine I needed to repair my tired muscles. I would have had that beer too, if I had had a few dollars more. I earned it after all.