Tuesday, 12 August 2014

Hero of the Team (from "My Short Stories (Book One)") - by Anne Shier (a.k.a. "Annie")

I’d often heard of superheroes and had wondered, all the time, whether it was hype and rumor, or if any of it was true.  I had always looked up to these God-like creatures, thinking they had something I didn’t, some God-given talent that was reserved for only a chosen few.  In fact, I thought I wanted to be a superhero myself (or just a hero) and have people admire and love me unconditionally.  Isn’t that what every young person aspires to?  I thought I wanted these things so much, but what I didn’t know at the time was the price one sometimes had to pay for having them.

Colin was a young man I had met about 5 years ago at University College, which is part of the University of Toronto.  He was about 20, very good looking and athletic.  I was 21 at the time and found myself quite attracted to him, which was also frustrating since so many other young women also found him attractive.  He was my idea of the “perfect man” – handsome, intelligent and extremely nice.  But, his heart was only in athletics – wrestling to be precise.  He had no time for women, therefore, no love life, so I decided that being his best friend would be the next best thing.

Since friendship was the only viable option, it then became relatively easy for me to hang out with him and talk freely with him.  The shyness I normally would have felt was not there as it would have been if he were a romantic prospect.  I would go to the gym to work out whenever I had spare time, which was at least once a day.  I was in a general science program, which included three social science courses, an English course and a political science course.  It was a pretty mundane selection of courses for me and I might have been very bored if I had not had Colin to divert me at the gym.  However, my workouts with my gymnastics team also kept me relatively sane.  Thus, it came to pass that I got to know Colin very well and we became good friends. I thought that we understood each other well.

Whenever I watched him work out at the gym, wrestling with his coach or fellow teammates, I found myself full of admiration for his talent.  He was so quick, agile and strong.  He had very defined muscles in his upper arms, chest and legs.  Since I myself had made it onto the university’s gymnastics team, I knew what it took to build muscle mass and strength.  It took regular and rigorous workouts!  While my expertise was mainly in floor exercise, which some people tended to assume was the easiest of the four Olympic gymnastic events; I knew that my performance on the floor was dependent on just two things – my strength and flexibility, plus my grace and elegance in delivering my gymnastics floor exercise program.  I could see a definite correlation between what I did as a gymnast and what Colin did as a wrestler.  It took a lot of hard work and dedication to achieve greatness in both of these sports.

I had some far-fetched dreams of my own of some day becoming a star gymnast in the province of Ontario or even Canada at the university level, but I knew what it would take to achieve this goal.  It would need a lot more work and dedication, not to mention luck, to do that and I didn’t think I had what it took – a huge commitment.  But, somehow I knew that Colin had that kind of commitment to his particular sport and I wanted to support him in his efforts.  Watching him perform was an inspiration for me too and this made me work harder than I normally would have otherwise.  I wished I could say the same for him, concerning myself, but I didn’t think that my prowess in gymnastics was a driving force behind Colin’s work ethic.

One day, when I was at the gym watching Colin work out with one of his teammates, Ian, I noticed that Colin seemed to be over-exerting himself.  He appeared to be sweating profusely and was very pale.  He was also taking frequent breaks to rest between wrestling bouts.  I thought that he was just overtired and went over to ask what the matter was.  After all, he was in a heavy undergrad program – physiotherapy – and I thought that he might be having a hard time balancing his time between studying and wrestling.  Or, maybe he couldn’t decide what to spend most of his time doing.  I knew how much he loved wrestling, but I also knew he worked hard at his studies and that he enjoyed his program at university very much.

So, I wondered to myself:  what could possibly be the problem?  Were his parents pressuring him to spend more time studying and less time wrestling?  Was his coach pressuring him to spend more time wrestling?  I knew that if he quit wrestling, it might be the death of him.  He wasn’t like me – I could quit gymnastics any time, almost without a second thought, because I knew that I could coach or judge gymnastics if I didn’t want to compete.  It was rather perplexing trying to read the situation with him though.

He, in turn, was very evasive with me, not giving me any real information that I could understand.  He just said that he needed a break from the routine of studying and wanted to spend more time wrestling.  This news both startled and worried me – was Colin going to quit school?  No, he couldn’t do that or he would be off the wrestling team and he would lose his athletic scholarship.  I didn’t know what to make of it.  What kind of “break” did he mean?  He reminded me of his next wrestling tournament coming up (at York University) and that he would make his final decision after that.  But, I still had no idea of what that decision would be.  I wanted to support him emotionally, but I didn’t know how to do that.  He was literally wrestling with some internal demons of his own that were tearing him apart.  I figured that I’d better not make myself scarce, in case he needed someone close.  So, I made plans to be at his upcoming tournament.

The day of the wrestling tournament at York University, I looked for Colin just to assure myself that he was going to be okay.  I found him talking to his coach, Larry, and I pulled him aside after their conversation.  Colin seemed to be pretty hyper and excited, which was probably the by-product of being in a top tournament among five top universities.  The winner would go on to the all-Ontario competition.  We both knew how important it was for him to perform well.  He said to me that Larry was very proud of him and had told him he expected the best from Colin.  And, I knew that Colin could, indeed, deliver the best, but I wanted him to know that doing his best was going to be good for his future and would probably help him with his upcoming decision.

Colin was to fight in the intermediate weight class of the tournament, which meant that he had to face middleweight contenders.  His weight had to be just right – not greater than 170 pounds.  But, he had a distinct advantage due to his large muscle mass and agility and, therefore, a real chance to win in his division.  When his turn came to wrestle his opponent, he did all of his maneuvers very well.  He held, pinned and threw his opponent to the point where it was clear to the judges that Colin was the superior combatant.  At the end of the match, the referee declared Colin to be the undisputed winner of the intermediate division.  I couldn’t have been more happy and excited for him than I was right now.

But, as he was standing up on the podium accepting his gold medal, he suddenly wobbled precariously on his feet, turned deathly pale and keeled over, unconscious.  I ran over, alarmed, to find out what was wrong.  He was barely breathing as he lay there on the wrestling mat.  I screamed for someone to call 911 for an ambulance.  I looked around for his parents to see if at least one of them was present, but nobody was evident.  It looked like I was going to be his only support person there.  Finally, the paramedics came.  After unsuccessfully trying to revive him, they took him to the hospital with the sirens screaming.  I begged them to tell me what was wrong with him, but they could not.  So, I just went along to the hospital in the ambulance with him.

It was no better at Toronto Western Hospital.  I’d finally gotten in touch with his father and soon he was on his way there.  I had hoped that the doctor would be able to diagnose Colin’s condition soon and give his family (and me too) some idea of what had happened to make Colin pass out.  When the doctor finally came out to the waiting room, we were both very anxious to hear what Colin’s condition and prognosis was.  What we heard was a severe shock and made me wonder how well I had really known Colin as a friend.  It turned out that he had been on anabolic steroids for quite some time now, trying to increase his muscle mass so that he could compete effectively at the top level.  His win today would have qualified him for the provincial championships.  Sadly now, that would never happen.  He would be disqualified when the tournament organizers discovered why he had collapsed.  Not only that, Colin was no longer the hero that we had all admired so much. His athletic reputation was gone, along with any future opportunities to excel in the athletic arena.  The fact was that he was fortunate to even be alive.

I tried to cope with this senseless event, wanting to somehow excuse Colin for taking illegal drugs and cheating at the tournament.  It was just too difficult to accept the fact that Colin was not the hero I knew he could be.  But, the saddest thing of all was that I knew Colin had the capability of being one of the best wrestlers in the country on his own merits, without the use of drugs.  Only he hadn’t had enough faith in his own abilities and strength to resist temptation, and that was his ultimate downfall.  In addition, his friends and family all viewed him with contempt and derision.  None of it was fair, but then when drugs like anabolic steroids are involved, very little is fair.  I would have given anything to be able to help him succeed.  Now, it was too late.  There would be no going back anymore.

published by Authorhouse, copyright 2011, Anne Shier.  All rights reserved.

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