Like Father, Like Son I had always been good at athletics as a kid. Boxing, wrestling, football, I did it all, and was good at it all. It was my life. And when I grew up, I hoped that my kid would share my love of and talent in sports. In that regard I was lucky. My son Charles has always been very good at sports. Ever since he was six he's been winning pee-wee wrestling tournaments. Most little boys never stood a chance against him. So I was very, very surprised when he was beaten by a little girl. When he was nine, He was wrestling in the state tournament. It's real stressful, both to the parents watching and their kids, because it's a single elimination tournament. Get pinned once, and you're out. This year, there had been a big hubbub since they let some girls enter. I didn't think that would be any problem. After all, I didn't think a girl could ever overpower my little man. My wife had declined to come (she never watches Charles wrestle; thinks it's too violent or something), so I was all by myself in the stands, seated next to this really good-looking woman, in her late twenties or thirties. There was a ring on her finger so I didn't try to hit on her or anything, but still, it's nice to be near an attractive woman. She was a brunette, a little bit shorter than me, with long, curly hair. She was really, really thin, too. I don't think there was an ounce of muscle on the lady. Charles had dominated his first match, putting away a kid who was bigger than him. He had had some problems with his second match, but had managed to get his opponent in a bear hug, and then get the pin as soon as his prey was exhausted and spent. Just one more win, I thought, and he'll be in the top 4. And if he wins then, the state championship is his! So you can imagine how much my heart leapt for joy when one of the girl wrestlers came out onto the mat. I thought Charles had a sure thing! "Go to it, son!" I yelled. "You can beat a GIRL!" The lady next to me looked at me coldly. "That girl happens to be my daughter," she said. "So please keep your sexism to yourself." I gave her a nasty look and then sat down. As the match began, I was in good spirits. Charles took the girl down to the mat, and got her in a half nelson almost immediately. "Put her away, son!" I yelled. Suddenly, the girl slipped out of his move and rolled away from him. Charles tried to grab her again, but she got him in a headlock before he could even think to defend himself. She pulled his face down into the mat, and then effortlessly flipped him over onto his back. As her coup de grace, she sat on his chest in a schoolboy pin. I could see my son struggling in vain to escape. The judges counted him out, though. The triumphant girl stood, and waved to her mother. My son lay stretched out on the mat, crying softly. I felt like joining him. After the tournament was over, I was with my son in the parking lot, walking over to our car and trying to console the kid. I wasn't doing a good job of it. "Looks like you need some more work-out time, son," I said. "You've really got to work on those escapes and reversals." "I guess so," he replied glumly. "But that girl was really good! You wouldn't be like this if I lost to a boy." "That's a lot different. I mean, how do you lose to a girl, even if she is really good? Men are bigger, stronger, faster, and more aggressive. If you lost to a girl, something's wrong." "I don't know," said a familiar voice. "Losing to a girl's pretty easy, actually. You could do it." I looked up, and saw the woman who had sat next to me. She and her daughter (who, incidentally, was holding the trophy for the state championship) were on their way to their car. "Do you really think you could beat me?" I asked quizzically. "Sure," she said confidentally. "I'll wrestle you right now if you want. We girls aren't the weaker sex." "Wha?" I asked, now totally befuddled. I was totally unprepared for her to actually ask me to wrestle. I mean, it seemed so out of the blue. "But there isn't a mat or anything." "They don't close the building for two more hours," she said, pointing back at the gymnasium the championships had been held in. "Come on, if you think you're so tough." "No, I couldn't..." "Fine," she said, smiling evilly. "Guess you just don't think you're tough enough to beat a girl. Like father, like son, I guess. Come on, Suzy, let's get out of here, away from these little men." That was all I could stand. It was bad enough that she was insulting me, but I wouldn't stand for her insulting my kid as well. "Let's go," I growled, marching back towards the gym. She followed, keeping that evil smile on her pretty face. A few minutes later, we were both on the mats, facing each other in the wrestling stance. Our kids were sitting in the bleachers, watching eagerly. "I'll show you how to beat a girl," I said to Charles. "Best of three pins," the woman said. "Points don't count." And then we began to wrestle. Overconfidant, I charged forward, sure that I could grab and overpower the smaller woman. Suddenly, with the speed of a jungle cat, she grabbed my right arm and pulled off some judo throw which tossed me to the mat. I tried to get up, but she, still very much in control of my arm, pulled it into a very painful armbar. I gritted my teeth and tried to resist crying out in pain, despite the incredible agony racing through my limb. Finally, she grew tired of that and let my arm go. I got to my knees, rubbing my very sore elbow. The arm was very sluggish, almost numb, from the abuse which it had endured. I'm right-handed, so I knew that I would be at a serious disadvantage for the rest of the bout. I hooked my left arm against her, and pulled in close to me. I then pressed my body down on hers, trying to force her down onto the mat. I figured then it would be an easy matter to get her shoulders down. I was wrong. She rolled over, tossing me onto my face. Then, before I could get up, she flipped me onto my back and got on top in a full bodypress. My leverage was gone, so I couldn't push her off of me. She counted the pin out, and then got up. "That's one for me," she said. I muttered something very obscene under my breath as I got up. "Beginner's luck," I said angrily, looking at my disappointed son through the corner of my eye. "We'll see," she said, getting into the wrestling stance again. She made the first move this time, tripping me up with a well-aimed foot. I grabbed one of her legs to try to pull her down. However, she pulled away. Then, when I tried to get up, she circled behind me, and grabbed me in a chin-lock. With one quick, painful yank I was pulled to my knees. With another, I was thrown down onto the mat, looking up at the sky yet again. She dropped down on me hard, covering me up before I could move. And again, she counted out the pin. "The winner, and champion!" she yelled triumphantly, getting to her feet. She ran over to her daughter, and high-fived her. "I beat the father, and you beat his son!" All that I could think about at the moment was redeeming myself in front of that son. "It's best of three, bitch," I said, staggering to my feet. "One more match." "I don't appreciate you using that language in front of my daughter," she said angrily, getting into the wrestling stance for a third and final time. "Boo hoo hoo. Why don't you cry about it?" "Like you did when your brat lost to my little girl?" That was it. I leapt forward like a lion, forgetting everything about wrestling that I had ever been taught. This was a FIGHT now. She grabbed my torso, and slammed me to the mat with a hip toss. She grabbed me in a half nelson, and pulled me up to my feet. She then began to press down with the wrestling move, nearly breaking my neck. I yelled in rage, and tossed her off of me. She rolled with it, though, getting to her feet as soon as she was on the mat. I charged forward again. She simply stepped out of the way, leaving one foot out to trip me again. I fell hard. She got onto my back, and put me in a sleeper hold. A good one, too. That lady really knew how to cut off a guy's oxygen supply. For the first few moments, I was thrashing around in agony, trying to get free. And then, my strength just flowed out of me. Colors began flashing before my eyes, and I began to go in and out of consciousness. She then relinquished the hold. While I was gasping for breath, as weak as a kitten, she rolled me onto my back and got the third pin. "We're no weaker sex," she said proudly, getting off of me. Then, holding her daughter's hand, she walked off, leaving my son and I alone in the gymnasium. "It's okay that you lost to a girl," I said to Charles, as soon as I had regained my breath. "I see what you mean. They were really good."