Day 3

Four years ago, G3 was a red belt, but the Taekwondo school he was attending was no longer challenging enough for him. He wanted more. To be exact, he wanted to compete and he wanted to learn weapons. We had no idea where to go, so we started looking online. When the online search failed to help, I reached out to Dan. I had never met him. But we graduated from the same writing program and, as a result, we connected on Facebook. He lives in a different state but his daughter also studies Taekwondo. When I asked him for advise, he highly recommend that we look into ATA Taekwondo. We had never heard of it. But he spoke so highly of the organization that we felt compelled to check it out. The closest school was twenty minutes away. Too far for an after school activity, or so we thought. Still, we went, and after a long conversation with the instructor, we enrolled G3. So much for our aversion to the longer commute.

Six months later, we met Dan and his daughter, Felicity, at a tournament in Pittsburgh. It was there that G3 learned that Felicity was ranked in the top ten in the world in her division and that she would be headed to the World Championship later that year. From that moment on, G3 looked up to Felicity and it was around that time he declared that someday, he too, would make it to the World Championship.

The Tournament of Champions begins today. G3 is nervous. I would be too. He will be competing in Forms against the best boys his age in the country. He’s been in some tough rings before, but this will be his toughest.

G3 won’t be competing until 1:00, but we arrived early at the convention center to watch some of the higher level black belts test. As always, once we arrived at the venue, G3 changed into his uniform in the car while listening to the songs that pump him up to complete: “You’re The Best” (Karate Kid), “Eye of the Tiger” (Rocky III), and “Lose Yourself” (8 Mile).

The World Championship is being held at the Phoenix Convention Center. The moment we stepped inside my nose burned and my eye watered. Dad loved sports. And I know if he were alive he’d be as excited as we are. He would have been smiling and beaming with pride to see G3 competing at this level. But he isn’t here, and his absence, as always, weighs heavily upon me. A cloud of sorrow, in an otherwise happy and exciting time.

We did not arrive early enough to see most of the testing. Kati had wanted to get here even earlier when the testing started, but I thought it more important to let G3 get a little more sleep. We only saw one master test for his 9th. Oh well, maybe next time.

I have always marveled at how well G3 performs under pressure. His nerves never seemed to rattle him. Until today. I think he defeated himself before he even stepped onto the mat. He watched other kids warm up, saw how good they were, and completely lost his confidence. He did not do well enough to place, however, he did tie with a boy who had beat him repeatedly in the past. A small personal victory.

G3 seemed disappointed in his performance and even more disappointed in his scores. His eyes betrayed his emotions, but that’s understandable. He had wanted to do better.

After he competed, Felicity went over and spoke to him. I don’t know what she said but her words appeared to bring him comfort. It always feels good when a person you admire cares about you and takes time to offer words of encouragement. And Felicity has alway had a way of making him feel better after a bitter loss.

One of G3’s instructors spoke to him as well, and I am certain his words were also encouraging. Even though G3 didn’t win a medal, we are proud of him for getting here. Now he has something more to work toward and strive for next year.

Following G3’s competition, we stuck around to watch G3’s former instructor compete. It was fun watching him. He came if first place in Forms. Congratulations, Mr. Peterson.

I am freezing. The air conditioning is turned on so high it feels like an icebox in here. I packed for the summer. I packed for intense heat. I am not prepared for arctic temperatures.

We let G3 pick where we went for dinner. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you what he chose. You know us well enough to know there were cheese curds on the menu. What you may not know is every time we eat Culver’s cheese curds G3 plays a game. Culver’s cheese curds are alway a mix of orange and white cheeses. They are all coated, so you can’t tell which is which, or rather Kati and I can’t differentiate. However, G3 studies each curd before guessing if it will be orange or white. He then bites it in half to see if he is correct, and when he is, he scrunches up his face looking all excited as if he won a prize. Amazingly, he has about a 98.4 percent success rate.

Before G3’s very first tournament four years ago, he was nervous. The night before, to ease his nerves, I promised that if he won a medal, we would take him out for ice cream to celebrate. If he lost, we’d get ice cream to cheer him up. We have kept this promise for every tournament, which means every tournament equals ice cream. Today it was a consolation prize, but by the time we went out, G3 was already back to smiling and setting goals for next season. I guess that’s the best way to get over disappointment: wipe away the tears, get back up, and try again.

As for Kati, she melted more quickly than the ice cream in my banana split and in this heat it was liquid in a matter of minutes. While G3 and I finished eating, she escaped into the air conditioned car for some relief.