I wiped my sweat as the next match started. It's already the second day of our intramurals, and that day will be my first match in *arnis.
I felt my hands shaking—both with anticipation and nervousness—as the match progressed.
'Three games from now, and mine will start...', I pondered fearfully.
It's my first official match, and I'm really nervous about it. The crowd cheered as a point was gained immediately.
"Puntos, pula!", (One point, red!) the referee shouted as he raised his right hand above his head and then pointed it obliquely towards the player who gained a point.
The match went on, and as soon as the time ended, the thundering applause erupted.
The next match began, and I started to feel uneasy. I stood up and quietly excused myself and headed towards the comfort room because watching them play made me nervous.
The comfort room was silent, and I immediately went inside the first cubicle. I sat down on the toilet bowl and just stared dazely at the door. I tapped my face hard in an attempt to ease the nervousness I felt. I knew I'm already prepared for that day; I spent almost two weeks training for it.
'Yes, just two weeks...', I thought dejectedly. I know it will be a tough game ahead because I heard that the one that I'll face had already experienced competing outside the campus, but still I don't know who she is.
I let out a shaky sigh and looked at my phone.
'It's almost time; I need—'
"Gette, are you peeing there?", a familiar voice called.
"Yes, wait—I'm already done!", I lied as I flushed the toilet.
I opened the door and saw it was my classmate, Janz.
"My guess was really right; you're here!", she exclaimed as she lightly hit my arm. I smiled and then grin.
"You're nervous, right?", she asked silently.
"A little," I lied again because the truth is that I'm greatly nervous that time.
"Liar...", she said while laughing. "I know you're really nervous—so am I. There's no need to hide it, Gette."
"Believe me, I'm not that nervous—I just need some time alone," I mumbled as I harshly raked my hair.
She grinned and snorted. "Ok, ok—say whatever you want. Like you, I'm also nervous, and that's why I'm here. Let's just enjoy the match, okay?"
"Yes, let's just enjoy it...", I answered while giving her a tentative smile. She smirked and grabbed me towards the door.
"Let's go; your match is about to start," she said as she interlocked our arms.
A heavy feeling somewhat dissipated, and it was replaced with a newfound excitement.
The three games seemed to have passed quickly because the moment we stepped out of the comfort room, they're already announcing the winner for the third match.
"Hatol?", (Decision?) the referee asked as he looked at the panel of judges. They unanimously raised the blue flag. The referee nodded and faced the front. "Panalo, Bughaw!", (Winner, Blue!) the referee exclaimed as he raised again his right hand, but now he's pointing it to the left where the blue player was.
The crowd clapped, and soon as the match's closing salutations were made, they took off the body armor and head gear. After they took off the armor, I headed towards the clear place to wear the armor and head gear. I grimaced when the damp gear touched my skin. My nervousness amplified as soon as they put on the gear on my head.
'I think I can't breathe...', I panicked silently.
My hand started to tremble as I gripped the padded stick. I tried to move and practice my footing, but moving with the armor and gear seems to be quite challenging.
"Pwesto!", (Position!) the referee called while motioning us to go inside the playing area.
Despite the difficulty I'm experiencing, I walked briskly towards the center of the playing area. I faced my opponent and almost gasped.
'She's tall!', I almost exclaimed, but thankfully my self-preservation held my tongue from blurting it out.
My nervousness increased further because I knew she'd have a height advantage. Even though I'll have the advantage of hitting her from below, she has a longer reach, so probably she'll hit me first even if I'm the one who'll make the first move.
I tried to calm myself.
But I can't.
"Handa sa pagpugay...! Pugay!", (Ready for the salutation...! Salute!) the referee shouted.
"Po!", (Yes!) we answered in unison.
I immediately became alert the moment the match started. I observe first the way she distances herself. I know she's just waiting for me to attack first, but I won't give in easily. We continue sizing each other's moves until...
"Hinto!", (Stop!) the referee called with his arm outstretched and palm facing forward.
He motioned us to move towards him, and after a few seconds of giving us advice, the match continued.
Before she could react, I immediately moved towards her. I hunched forward to reach the hollow part in her side abdomen, and I indeed hit it; however, I didn't notice that her strike reached my head first. The head gear shook with the impact of the hit.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance as the crowd cheered.
'Damn...'
"Unang puntos, bughaw!", (First point, blue!) the referee shouted.
The match grew more frantic, and as seconds passed, I suffered a lot of strikes, and eventually she gained a lot of points from those. However, as it went on, I noticed some small openings. I avoided targeting her from below; instead, I parried her strike and dodged it, and then later, I returned it to her by giving her a light strike on her chest or higher part of the abdomen.
When the first minute passed, the referee called us to halt. Since I'm still not in knockout, it continued, and in the second round, I intended to turn the tables in my favor.
'I can't strike her below, but I can still dodge her blow and parry it. Then she'll become a little disgruntled, and that's where I strike', I planned silently while gazing grimly at her.
The head gear seemed to feel heavier, and I know fatigue was slowly eating up my remaining energy.
I let out a sharp breath.
'I need to land strikes on her before my body gets really tired...'
The referee motioned us to move towards the center of the playing area again, and after doing the brief salutations, the match began again.
I immediately caught her off guard, thus I gained another point. However, landing another blow on her was getting harder. Aside from her height advantage and reach, she also has nice footwork. My not-that-polished footwork somehow contributed to my rapidly growing fatigue.
Thankfully, we're already at the last seconds of the round, and at that moment another idea came to my mind.
'I want to land a solid blow on her abdomen, knee, or anywhere below!', I excitedly thought.
I know it will be quite impossible because landing a blow and immediately moving backwards in a bent position will put a heavy strain on my knees and thighs. It's a risky move, but I'm full of adrenaline that time, so I decided to test that.
I slowly move towards her, and the moment she tried to land a strike on my head, I dodged just in time and lunged below to strike her abdomen. Still in a bent position, I stepped back swiftly.
"Puntos, pula!", (A point for red!) the referee called abruptly just before the yellow flag was raised by the timer.
I felt an abrupt pain the moment I stood up. I massaged gently my throbbing kneecaps. I'm almost out of breath that time, and I really wanted to take off the head gear immediately because my sweat was already stinging my eyes.
I panted heavily as the referee called us to gather in the center of the playing area.
We face each other, then later face forward towards the judges. I bit my lip in anticipation, and when a flag was raised, tears and sweat stung my eyes.
"Panalo, Bughaw!" (Winner, blue!), the referee shouted.
The claps began to be muted as soon as we faced each other and gave our last salutations to end our game. I shook her hands half-heartedly and silently walked away from the playing area to take off the armor and head gear.
I'm disappointed in myself.
After all the matches ended, I saw the scoring sheets. I was definitely thrashed out in the first round. It was somehow out of sheer luck that I managed to survive the first round without getting knockout. I managed to turn the tables on the next round, but it wasn't enough to surpass the points my opponent had accumulated in the first round.
I sighed tiredly.
'At least I get extra points in PE...', I thought in an attempt to console my mind.
I was about to go out of the room when I heard someone calling me. It's our trainer.
"Hey, 'day (little girl), come back for the next training, hah—I'll be expecting you," he called.
'I don't know, sir...', I said silently in my mind.
But I didn't answer him; instead, I gave him a tentative smile and a salutation.
He grinned and returned the salutation.
'This is just the start', I thought pensively.
And indeed, it was.
NOTE:
The picture that didn't have a source was taken by yours truly, ridgette.
*Arnis; it is the national martial art and sport of the Philippines. It’s best known for its use of weapons such as sticks and knives, but also trains users in unarmed combat as well as ways to disarm opponents. [Source]
