Essay Help would be appreciated.
“Come on! Get a touch!” My Coach screams. Beep. My eyes swerve behind me to see the scoring box. A green light blinds me. My opponent scored another point. The bout has already started and I am already losing 4-0. My legs shake and my mind is filled with only one thing, anger. I go back to my line preparing for the referee to start, but I do not care, I have already lost. My enemy in front of me knowing that I have given up mocks me. He laughs like a man who has won the lottery. I do not know what to do. The bout starts once again, but this time I run. I run with so much speed that I can not control myself. Our weapons clash, but my strength overcomes his. My epee reaches his torso, and curves slightly after the impact. I cry knowing that I have finally achieved a singular point, but it will not do anything.
The referee stops the bout and announces, “Half-time.” I return back to my coach and he sees my expression. His face once filled with joy after winning many different games now turned to anger.
“You can’t give up yet,” he exclaimed out loud, “you still have a whole bout left.” While sobbing I state, “there is no point. I have already lost.” “That is not a mentality that my students follow. This is not the time to give up. You still have one half left! You can still win!” My coach responds. “I am sorry, but there is no chance.” My coach then grabs my epee. “If you do not wish to fight, then there is no point in you fencing today. Give me your weapon and stop fencing today, you stand no chance.” Suddenly, I get angry at my coach. Why does he want me to quit? I shout back at him. “I will not quit! I will show you that I can still win!” “Good,” my coach stated, “remember the bout ain’t over until the opponent has gotten 5 points.”
With newfound strength, I get back onto the strip. I look at my opponent. His face in a huge smile. I must beat him. The referee explicitly states,” En guard, ready, fence.” My opponent rushes to me, he is overconfident. I can visualize his next move. He takes a small lunge, a fake, so I step back and extend my arms. Then, with his arm extended, he jumped and ran directly at me. I got down to one knee then extend my arm. Beep! My face was sweaty, I turn around to see, not a green light, but a red one. My head echoes with the sound of the point, my sweat slowly dripping down my face. My adversary throws his mask and weapon to the ground in a fit of fury. His weapon snapped at the impact of it hitting the ground. I suddenly feel confident.
How many cards will the ref give?
“Three yellow cards for Edoardo Mangiarotti. This results in two red cards which will provide Agasthya Prabhakar 2 points. The score is now 4-4.” The referee announces. My combatant starts to weep. He is starting to feel the same way I once was. Mr. Mangiarotti, my rival’s father, shouts at the referee. “What kind of call is that! Honestly, why are you the ref? I will get you fired!” The calm referee looks at the father and tells him to stop interrupting the bout or else he would get kicked out by security.
One touch left. The referee restarts the bout. Me and my opponent itching for gold, both attack at the same time. My legs start to stretch out into a lunge my opponent still stepping toward me. I extend my arm, the weight of my weapon-making my muscles tense. All that is left is my contender to run into my blade. He steps forward with great speed, but he is not ready for the lunge. The sensation of the blade interacting with my opponent eases me. The blade bends at a curve, and my opponent looks at me with shock. Beep! “Touch to Agasthya Prabhakar, bout.” I won.