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“Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon 'em.” -Some guy who shook his spear.
How can I begin to explain the events of May 13th 2007? No author has the words to encompass the enormity of what transpired. So…can I try to weave it into a bard’s tale? But no storyteller has the range to capture the depths and heights of that day. So…can I project my voice to the heavens and pay homage to the gods who made all of this happen? But no opera singer’s voice could ever replicate the climax of the story: a visceral scream, so out of character and yet suited to the moment.
Have you ever asked yourself, “Why am I here? What is my true purpose in life?” Have you ever wondered for what reason the cosmos saw it fit to bring you into this world? Have you ever wished for a time when you knew exactly what to do, a spiritual epiphany of the highest level? Well, three men from the East Bay Fencer’s Gym found the answers to all of their questions on May 13th 2007.
Like most days in Las Vegas, it was hot. But the sunburned and smoky hotels were about to get a heatwave that they would never forget. Great fencing was about to scorch this town like Vesuvius did Pompeii. It started slowly enough. EBFG Team B seeded 12th (or as I liked to call us, “Well Hung Over”) couldn’t deal with the 5 seed: four cagey vets who showed No Fear. The match was anyone’s game for four or five bouts, but from there it slowly sank into the 1.5th Circle of Dante’s Hell: Futility.
Thankfully, the EBFG Team A was seeded 4th and able to coast through their bout with the 13th seed. This gave the unsuccessful men and more successful women (who won their first match and showed some surprisingly strong fencing by Kasha and Alyssa) time to cheer on the men. Definitively vocal, the rowdy East Bay fans showed the fencing world why people have been losing their hearing at Warriors playoff games this year. Some of this healthy exuberance would no doubt rub a particularly uptight and obese director (who harps on the proper rules and yet shows no propriety when it comes to Frenching younger fencers on the strip) the wrong way, almost costing EBFG the match. Thankfully, for some reason (I attribute it to my request to the head director to oversee his calls) he changed his tune and swung two calls to our favor later in the match.
But even though the directors threatened to take the match away from the fencers (especially during Rob’s bout against Bethel), in the end no human could stand in the way of Frank, Rob, Keith and Destiny. After a brilliant move to put in Rob as the anchor in the semifinal, an epee juggernaut was next. GGFC, the evil empire, the club that uses Jedilike mind tricks to turn noble young souls into pompous fops (actually, I’ve only been there once and liked it), they tried their best. They did their dirtiest deeds. They piled up a huge chipstack against us for the final bout, but Keith, no longer ranked in the top 5 nationally, no longer fresh from his Div I NCAA silver medal, reached back and not only refound that old spark, but also borrowed some from d'Artagnan, Zorro and Laura Flessel-Colovic! Violence, drama, argumentation and exuberance…the final match had it all. Who am I kidding? I can’t begin to describe it. It was a once in a lifetime event that even a certain large director will be telling his illegitimate children about.
I saw your lamentations on fencing.net, Jonathan. Don't focus on missing out on this once in a liftetime event, focus on how happy Abdul will be for a while. Now is the time to ask for lessons!
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