Tomboy, Part Six
by brooksie brooksie@pacificcoast.net
The tomboy wrestles the high school champ in a submission-style match


Author's note: The story picks up at the exact moment Part Five left off, but
the narrating voice changes. The school's wrestling coach, who is refereeing
the match, describes the action.

I blew the whistle and stepped back off the mat. It was hard not to feel
anxious about what I was doing. This match wasn't sanctioned in any way and if
anything happened that resulted in an injury, I'd be in a lot of trouble. My
nervousness made me wonder why I had even agreed to allow it in the first
place. I knew my best wrestler was taking a terrible ribbing around the school
about being challenged by a younger girl and there was no doubt it was
affecting his performance on the mat, but I should have come up with some
other way to deal with it. This submission-style match thing was crazy!

The funny thing was, I had every intention of sticking with my original
decision to ban this match from taking place, at least on school property. But
once I got these two in my office, something changed. I didn't know the girl,
other that the fact that she had planned on trying out for the wrestling team,
but had changed her mind. She'd come out to watch a couple of our early-season
practices, but I hadn't paid her any attention. I'd been informed by the
school principal there were no grounds to prevent her from trying out if she
wanted, but I was certainly not going to encourage it.

As we sat in my office, I got the feeling this girl was unlike any other I had
ever met, in over twenty years of teaching. She wasn't angry or upset, she
didn't make any threats or use foul language, in fact, she really didn't
address my wrestler at all. She told me the type of match she had challenged
him to and explained to me why she had made the challenge in the first place.
She was a reasonable negotiator, agreeing to stipulations on my part about
banning chokes and other potentially dangerous holds, and to my particpation
as referee. But she absolutely stood her ground on the question of the match
being open to other students and of me raising the arm of the winner at the
end, just like in a regular match. At the least little bit of hesitancy on my
part on either of these two points, she politely but firmly informed me she
wouldn't do it under any other circumstances, acted as it the meeting were
done and the match was off. Whenever this happened, my wrestler panicked and
looked deperate. He seemed willing to go along with whatever she wanted.
Somehow she'd really gotten to him mentally. He couldn't seem to let go of the
idea that his image would suffer if he didn't go through with this. Whatever
she did, she had reached into a very deep part of his psyche. She'd managed to
make him feel as though his pride was on the line and he had to prove
something.

On the surface of it, the idea was preposterous. This kid was 16, the best
high school wrestler in the city and, at 5'7, 158lbs, stood several inches
taller and outweighed this girl by at least...well, it was hard to say
actually. I tried to estimate her weight, but it wasn't that simple. She had a
very high degree of musculature for a 13-year-old girl. Her shoulders were
exceptionally broad and full, her legs were thick and defined and she had
biceps that were not so much huge as extremely hard and defined, with an very
high peak. As I watched the two of them feel each other out on the mat, I
noticed the way her muscular body flexed as she moved around. Everything about
this girl exuded strength and athleticism.

So far, not much was happening. I thought my guy would go right at her and
take her down, but he wasn't. At first, I thought her unusally strong-looking
physique might be causing him to be cautious but I soon realized it wasn't so
much that, as the fact that he couldn't seem to get her into a tie-up. Every
attempt he made to close in on her, she thwarted by twisting, ducking and
slipping out of his grasp. In a regulation high school match, she would lose
points or even be disqualified for these kind of avoidance tactics but this
was a different kind of wrestling contest. I wasn't sure what to do, so I just
stood back. Before long, the other kids watching began booing and cat-calling
at the lack of action. I watched the girl's face but it didn't seem to
register on her at all. She kept her eyes glued to her the boy's chest,
responding instantly to his every movement, gracefully dancing around the mat
and staying just out of his grasp. Clearly frustrated by, and unused to this
type of tactic he snapped, "C'mon, you little bitch, stand still and wrestle."

"Hey!" I yelled "Watch the language. You know better than that."

He glanced over at me and that momentary distraction was apparently what she
was waiting for. In an instant, she switched direction and charged straight at
him. Putting her shoulder into his stomach, she essentially tackled him,
football style. As she hit him, I saw her put one arm behind his right let,
just below the knee. The impact of her hitting him and pulling up on his leg
caused him to rocket backward and hit the mat with a resonding thud! A big
cheer went up from the crowd. I wasn't sure if it was for her takedown or just
because there was finally some action between them. I expected my wrestler to
immediately roll to get off his back, but he seemed stunned the force with
which he'd hit the mat and may have had the wind knocked out of him. For a
second or two, he just lay there trying to regain his bearings. In the
meantime, the girl had remained on her knees and now had hold of both his legs
in a highly unusual manner.

She had his right foot tucked under her left shoulder, as she knelt facing
him. He was still on his back. Next, she brought his left ankle underneath his
trapped right leg until she was able to grasp it with her left hand. By this
time, he had recovered enough to try jerking his legs free. She had her legs
spread wide and was sitting right down with her butt resting on her heels. She
was well-balanced and solidly positioned, allowing her to keep his legs tied
up. He was also twisting form side to side, attempting to keep first one
shoulder, then the other off the mat. I suppose he was doing this
instinctively and had forgotten that pins counted for nothing in this contest.

Meanwhile, his muscular little opponent had a firm grip on his left ankle and
was forcing it it up against his right calf. Slowly, methodically, she
unhooked his right foot from under her shoulder. By pulling sideways on his
left leg and pushing on his right knee, she managed to get his right leg
crossed above his left knee. That made it nearly impossible to free his legs.
She lifted his left ankle up and rocked him back onto his shoulders. If she'd
been going for a pin, she would have gained it easily in this position.
Instead, she adjusted her position slightly and then brought the ankle back
down lower so his feet were almost on the mat. I wasn't sure what she was up
to, but I soon found out. Once his legs were in a straighter position, she was
able to hook his right foot underneath his left calf, effectively locking his
legs together, the right one wrapped around the left like a vine. All she had
to do to maintain her hold was position herself against his left ankle, which
she was very tightly, so that she was practically sitting on his left foot.
Her bodyweight alone was enough to keep his legs trapped and, as the crowd
realized this, I could hear some female voices exclaim jubilantly, "she's got
him"..."she's going to win". The girl heard them too and with a cocky little
grin on her face, flexed her arms in a bodybuilder's "double biceps" pose. The
girls began to laugh and cheer and the look on my wrestler's face changed from
one of grim determination to one of panic, as he fought to somehow struggle
loose from her unorthodox, but very effective leglock. He was on his back,
face up and could clearly see her expression of triumph as she played to her
growing section of vocal female supporters. It was clear they were loving
seeing this muscular little 13-uear-old with the school's top wrestler
helplessly trapped on his back.

Myself, I was absolutely stunned! I was used to seeing this kid take apart his
competition, males his age or older, sometimes a lot bigger than him too, and
yet here he was losing to a girl three years his junior. It was also strange
not to be yelling out encouragement to him but, as referee I could hardly do
that. Truth of it was, I don't know what I would have told him to do anyway. I
couldn't see how he was going to get out of this. For a short period of time,
perhaps 20 - 30 seconds, she held him in this position, flat on his back. Then
she pushed on his knees, bringing him over onto his right side. His right arm
was pinned beneath his own bodyweight but his left was still free, although
not for long. With him lying on his right side, she shifted around so she was
at his back, tugging up on his left ankle with her left hand. She quickly
spread herself out so she was lying on top of his leg and hooked her left one
around his left ankle. Now she had him stuck but good, his legs tied up like a
pretzel, right arm pinned under their combined weight and his left one pushing
uselessly against the mat. Amazingly, she still had both her arms free.
Bracing herself with her right, she reached out with her left hand and took
hold of his left wrist as he tried to push up with it. From her position atop
him, it was a simple matter for her to twist it and bend his arm up behind his
back. When they saw her do that, her cheering section let out a loud roar, as
it was now perfectly obvious she had left him without any defense at all. He
simply had no way to move! I began to scurry around them, checking her hold to
make sure none of his joints were at risk of being damaged. I could imagine
his legs must be starting to get pretty sore, with his left hip twisted like
that and right ankle bone pressing against his left one, but the knee joints
were safe. As for his arm, she was holding it securly against his back in a
hammerlock, but making no effort to ram it up between his shoulder blades. She
looked relaxed and confident that the leg lock would gain her a submission.

It was at that point that I realized the brilliance of her manoeuver. Because
we had agreed that I would break any hold I thought could result in injury,
she had used a lock that didn't compromise any joints. It relied on the fact
that the muscles would soon begin to cramp and the pain of bone being pushed
against bone. That's why she wasn't attempting to force a submission with her
hammerlock but using it instead just to control him. She was at no risk of
having of having me break this hold because of any potential danger, unless I
wanted to show favouritism and protect my wrestler by claiming there was a
risk of some sort involved. As I moved around the intertwined figures on the
mat, checking their position, I locked eyes with her. She had a look that was
relaxed and determined at the same time. She fixed my gaze, as if daring me to
blow my whistle and do something dishonourable. I began to understand how she
had manipulated my guy into feeling like he had to have this match with her.
Her eyes said it all. She knew I couldn't, as much as I was pulling for my boy
to win this thing, act against my conscience and cheat on his behalf. As much
as it would kill me to see it happen, I'd let the boy lose to her before I'd
cheat. Somehow, she'd figured that out, probably back in my office when we
were making the arrangements.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of grunts and moans coming from the
boy. He couldn't move at all and was not breathing in a ragged, uneven manner
as he held his breath when his gut tightened against the pain.

"Give up?", she asked quietly.

"Nooo.", he answered back, but I could tell from the sound of his voice he
couldn't take much more. The girls were going nuts as they sensed she was
about to win the first fall. Meanwhile, the other guys on the team and
everyone else who had started out cheering for him were silent. It's as it
they were in shock, and why shouldn't they be? Never in a million years did I
think I'd see what I was seeing now.

"Come on, you can't get out of this, might as well give, you've lost this
one."

He grunted, but no answer.

"Oh well, it doesn't matter to me. I know I have you. I'll just lie here on
top of you for as long as it takes. The longer I keep you like this, the worse
your legs are going to feel when you finally decide to give in to me."

He groaned with pain again and said the words.

"I...give."

I banged my hand on the mat and tapped the girl on the shoulder to indicate
she should let him up, but she'd already released his arm and was busy
untangling her legs from his. Her cheering section began screaming with
delight once they saw my hand go down and heard the whistle. The girl bounded
to her feet and, even though she'd barely broken a sweat, wiped herself down
with a towel while she sipped water and waited patiently at her corner of the
mat for the next fall to start. By comparison, my best male wrestler lay on
his back, his uniform already drenched with perspiration, trying to rub some
feeling into his numb, sore legs. Slowly, he got to his knees and then shakily
to his feet as he went to his corner. He spend the agreed-upon 90 second rest
break stretching the cramps out of his legs and hip.

I turned my attention to the kids who were watching the match. Some of the
girls were teasing and giving the other guys on the team a hard time and I
went over to settle them down. It was only by blowing my whistle and
threatening to eject some of them from the gymnasium that I was able to
restore order. By now the rest break was over and I motioned the two wrestlers
to the middle of the mat. I held my arm up and brought it down with a slashing
motion as I blew the whistle again to start the second fall.

Seeing the look of pure hatred on my wrestler's face as he charged towards her
caused me a great deal of concern. There was little doubt the first fall had
likely been the most humiliating experience of his life and I could plainly
see that he'd lost his temper. He looked as though he wanted to kill her and I
suppose, at that particular moment, he did. I got a surge of adreneline,
fearing that he might start beating on her and get in a few good shots before
I'd be able to pull him off her. All my senses were on hyper-alert as I
readied myself to spring to action at the first sign that this had gotten out
of control. My wrestler threw all caution to the wind as he lunged at the
girl. She tried another of her nimble sidesteps while ducking under his arms
but this time, he was having none of it. He lashed out an arm and got it
around her waist, then joined his hands together, lifting and tossing her to
the mat in one ferocious motion. She landed basically on her side, but he
followed her down and leapt on her, forcing her over onto her back. It looked
to me as if he was going for a head-and-arm pin. I don't know whether he was
still operating instinctively, as though this was a normal wrestling match, if
he was planning on starting with that and moving to some sort of submission
hold or possibly that his intent was to simply pin her down until she realized
she couldn't get loose and gave up. All I knew was that he was having a
difficult time controlling her and, after a few seconds of furious grappling,
lost her.

They broke apart and she went for her own headlock. As he defended himself
against that attack, she took the opportunity to snake her legs around his
ribcage in a body scissors. Once she started to squeeze, the angry expression
on his face changed to a pained grimace. The one thing about this girl that
most set her apart from the average 13-year-old was the incredibly dense,
thick musculature of her legs. It's a rare thing to see a female with quads
that were wider than her hips, but this girl's were. As I watched her contract
and relax her legs while she worked the scissors hold, I could almost feel the
force they were generating. She had great positioning with her hold, angling
her feet and crossed ankles down towards his hips, out of reach of his left
hand. With both her own hands, she was holding on to his right wrist and
forearm, to keep him from sitting forward so he could get at her ankles. The
crushing power of her legs had him groaning in pain again, but he was finally
able to wrench his right arm loose, sit forward and unlock her legs. The
trouble was, no sooner had he extricated himself from the scissors grip, she
was on him again, going after whatever of his limbs was available. She made
several attempts at various types of armbars, leglocks, scissor holds, each
time forcing him to continue to fight a purely defensive battle and coming
close to securing another painful lock on him.

As I got more of an opportunity to watch her wrestle, it became obvious that
she had some training in judo or some similar form of martial art. The holds
and locks she was trying for were definitely from that type of discipline, and
not the sort of grips used in high school wrestling. Again, it dawned on me
why she was so sure of herself. She was banking on the fact that she'd be
wrestling against an opponent who was out of his element, which was becoming
increasingly apparent as the match wore on. Aside from pinholds, my guy seemed
somewhat at a loss as to what to do, not that he was getting much of a chance
of go on the offensive anyway. He was mainly concerned with fending off her
attacks. I could also sense that cardio-vascular condition was becoming a
factor. The fall had been going on for over four minutes now, much longer than
the normal length of time for high school matches. His movements were getting
slower and I could hear him breathing start to become laboured. The girl, on
the other hand, was still fresh and energetic. Her concentration and focus was
as intense as it had been when they started wrestling.

As the match wore on, I could see a pattern begin to emerge. My wrestler was
still using a lot of energy to stay off his back. Once he'd rolled over, she
would strike, looking to lock an arm or a leg. So far, he'd been strong and
fast enough to keep himself from getting inextricably caught in any of her
holds, but he was starting to slow down. After another flurry in which he got
her on her back, she squirted out to the side and nearly caught him in some
kind of arm bar. Once again, after jerking him arm free, he turned over onto
his stomach. For a second he lay still, breathing heavily. She took advantage
of his momentary lapse and, in an instant, grabbed his right wrist, pulled his
arm back and scissored it, up high at the shoulder. She was laying alongside
of him and wrapped her other arm around his near leg, pulling it tight against
her. Suddenly he stopped moving completely. I could see a look of fear in his
eys. She had his elbow bent back against her knee and I felt a sick feeling in
the pit of my gut. This looked extremely dangerous. It would be very easy,
with one quick motion, for her to snap his arm in this position. I got down on
my knees to check the hold and was about to blow the whistle and break it when
I looked at her. She shook her head and smiled, as if to say "Don't worry, I'm
not going to do it." She immediately moved to change the hold. Letting go of
his leg, she turned her grip on his arm into a wristlock. Keeping him down
this way, she twisted around until she was on her knees. I had already decided
I would disallow this hold too, but she switched it again before I had a
chance to. I waited to see what she was going to do. She slid one leg down and
grapevined it around his right leg. She slipped her right arm underneath his
and around behind his neck in a half nelson, letting go of the wristlock in
the process. As she used her leghold and the half nelson to roll him over
slightly onto his left side, he braced his left arm and tried to push back
against her momentum. As soon as he did that, she snatched it with her left
hand and bent it behind him in another hammerlock.

I could only stand back and admire what I was seeing. She was braced on her
right leg, her butt up high in air so her body formed a wide upside-down vee
shape. His arms were tied up, she had his right leg trapped with her left and
his left leg was held down by his own bodyweight. It was just like the hold
she'd used to win the first fall with - none of his joints were threatened
with injury, giving me no reason to break it. Nor was it a pressure-based hold
like a scissors or headlock, requiring a great deal of strength and power to
force the submission. Psychologically, it was bound to have a devastating
effect on the boy. There was nothing he could do except lie there, knowing he
was helpless in the grip of a 13-year-old girl, who was about to defeat him in
straight falls in front of his coach, his team and several dozen other
students.

As it became obvious he wasn't going to get free, the girls started gong
crazy. They sensed victory. I don't think that many of them were necessarily
rooting for this little muscle girl in the beginning, but her performance here
had definitely won them over. They began chanting her name and making so much
noise, I had to get right down in front of my wrestler's face to hear him. He
was groaning in pain and I asked if he was ready to submit.

"No. Ohhhhhhhh, noooo..."

She tightened the nelson, spread her right leg out a little wider and jerked
him over a bit more onto his left side.

"Give up now?" she asked.

"Nooo, this hold is illegal, it's cheating," he complained.

"It's not illegal in submission wrestling. Have you had enough yet?"

He tried to hang on, but his moaning was getting louder and more constant. She
held her tenacious grip for another minute or two. I noticed his right hand,
which he'd been using to try and pry her hand from around the back of his
neck, was now waving in the air. It looked to me as if he may be tapping out.
I touched her on the shoulder.

"Alright missy, let him go now."

"No," she barked, "he hasn't submitted yet."

"He's tapping out, now let him go."

"He can speak. Ask him."

I hesitated and she yelled, "ASK HIM!"

The crowd suddenly went quiet. I bent down and asked. He shook his head, but I
could see his eyes were starting to tear up. He hadn't made the slightest bit
of headway in braking this hold from the moment she'd applied it. We all knew
it was over. As much as I hated to, I told him to submit.

"I'm sorry son, but she's got you. She won fair and square. Now I taught you
above all, win or lose, to be a good sport. This is no different. Come on now,
give it up."

He waited a few more seconds then, in a voice choke with tears and full of
resentment said, "I give."

I banged my hand on the mat and blew the whistle, while pandemonium broke
loose in the gym. The girls who were cheering for her were all jumping up and
down, screaming with delight and making trash talk to the guys on my wrestling
team, who were saying very little back. This time, I had to blow two long
blasts on the whistle to get enough quiet so we could end this. Once the other
students settled down, I called both wrestlers to the center of the mat. I
could see my guy was flushed and angry, his face red with embarrassment. I
knew how humiliating this must be for him, so I didn't draw it out. I held her
arm up in the air and announced,

"The winner of this best two out of three fall submission match, Jennifer
McKenzie."

I let go of her arm and she turned to the 16-year-old boy whom she'd just
defeated. Showing a good sense of sportsmanship, she said "Good match," and
stuck her arm out, offering to shake. Almost worse than watching him lose the
match was seeing the captain of my wrestling squad refuse to shake her hand.
Jennifer simply shrugged her shoulders, pulled the hair-tie from her ponytail
and fluffed out her long blonde hair. She trotted over to the throng of
cheering girls where she received her congratulations, then picked up her
towel and water bottle, and strode victoriously towards the girl's locker
room.