[Bill]

Ok, this might be kinda rambley and disjointed, and I didn't want to post it all, because it involves pain, (my pain) and you all have gone through so much more than I have. I almost posted last week regarding how you could tell the difference between a cracked rib, a bruised rib, or a bruised liver, but I didn't. I'm better now, but here's what happened.....My youngest son, Zach, 18, moved in with me about 2 weeks ago. I wrestled for 7 years, and then coached for 6. A few years ago, Zach was a freestyle state champ and place third in Greco-Roman wrestling and as a freshman in high school, upset the #1 guy in our region. (Hope your eyes aren't glazing over at this point, just setting the background) I have dabbled in martial arts as well, and taught both of my boys, and my daughter as well, how to defend themselves. Anyhow, last week, I'm sitting here on this website acting up, eating salmon and spinach, while Zach is in the same room lifting weights, and doing crunches and doing some of the "secret workout moves" I've taught him. It's almost midnight and I've got to get up at 6:00 AM. I say, "Well, Bud, I'm gonna turn in", and Zach says, "You wanna wrestle?" I exhaled, and said "sure", went back and threw on some wrasslin' clothes. We agreed that we would only do standup work, no shots on the legs, no throws, just working for upper body advantage and arm pins and stuff. Keep in mind, this is all taking place in my wall-to-wall carpeted living room. Also, I'm 5'10" about 180 pounds, 45 years old, and Zach is about 5'7" 140 pounds but 18 and nothing but lean muscle. We shook hands, and locked up. I grabbed his head, he grabbed mine, and I immediately went for a "Russian tie-up", I'm sure you all know what that is. Then, 15 seconds into the match, he shot down on my right leg and had it up off of the floor in no time, and I realized our ground rules were out the window. We went at it full tilt for about 45 seconds and then I managed to get back to a neutral position, and shot in on his leg, torqued it up and tried to work him down to his back, but then the next thing I know, we're in an upper body tussle and rolling over the back of the couch, each trying to twist the other onto their backs as we sail through the air, but we hit on our sides and Zach instantly whirled on top and crunched my ribs with a tight-waist and drove me into the mat/wall-to-wall carpeting as he was trained to do. This on the floor grappling went on for about a minute more until I was able to twist on him and then we both stood up in a neutral position. I could feel both elbows and knees burning and probably bleeding, and we're both standing there, with our hands on our knees, out of wind, and Zach says, huffing and puffing, out of breath," that.....might..be..enough of a workout for now..." I looked at him and said, as I huffed and puffed, too, "No, let's go one more round" (I wanted to let him know he'd been in a match) We went one more round and mainly stalled against each other and broke even, but if we had had a referee, Zach would have beaten the heck outta me. We shook hands, hugged, said good match and then I stumbled off to bed, and I noticed that my knees and elbows didn't burn anymore, 'cause my ribs hurt so bad. "Oh, well, everything will be better in the morning", only it wasn't. I got up a little late, jumped in the shower, and hit the road. When I got to work, I noticed people looked at me a little funny and I told them the story of mine and Zach's wrestling match and how I "schooled him" and put him in his place. Then I noticed Margerie, our dispatcher, rubbing her fore-head with her index finger, and she said, "Bill, you've got a rug-burn the size of a silver dollar on your fore-head. I think you got schooled." Without a word, I turned and went into the men's room, and sure enough, there it was, the evidence of where my son drove my head into the carpet. I explained to him that night that the rematch would be different.