It was the finals match in the tournament. 32 fencers of different skill levels were ready to fence for a chance to go to the national tournament. Only the top two made it to the national event and the rest were denied entry. Both I and my friend were quenching our thirst with water before our bout in the finals. I could hear the fencers of other tournaments around us: some shouting in joy, others breaking into tears. The buzzers around us were sounding with every point scored by a fencer. Despite drinking water, I could still feel the dryness of my mouth in tense anticipation for my bout in the finals.

Before taking up my sword and my gear, I knew that this match would be extremely difficult. I steeled my heart and put on my gear, refusing to think negative thoughts, only reinforcing my belief that I could win.

I zoned out and thought about an offensive and defensive plan based on my previous observations on my opponent’s style. I was in my own world until I heard the referee bellow my name. I rushed past the crowd, ignoring the salty smell of sweat and tears. With fumbling hands, I plugged my gear into the system and stood up. I put on my mask and saw my opponent do the same.

I could feel the hackles on my neck rising, the blood pumping through my veins. The world stilled for a second; all  that existed was me and my heavily breathing opponent. I swallowed, already exhausted. The smell of sweat was becoming unbearable. The world suddenly exploded in color, the referee beginning the bout. Both my opponent and I burst into motion, ignoring the world around us and falling in complex swordplay.

I took a quick step forward and lunged at my opponent, hoping to score an early point. Unfortunately, he jumped backwards, making me miss and fall into a vulnerable position. My breathing got more intense as I realized that I would have to move quickly to avoid losing the point.

My opponent was quick to take advantage of my instability and rushed forward at me. Sweat formed on my face when I saw how little space was between us. My eyes jumped from the ground to my opponent's upper body, I could see the grin slowly forming on his face. I strained to keep my eyes open and follow his swinging sword.
There! Attacking from my left, I prepared to parry his sword. Looking back at his face, I could see the grin on his face grow. My eyes widened when instead of blocking his sword, my opponent had feinted and swung his sword to the right. I frantically moved my arm to the right, but I was too slow. His sword slashed downward against my electric jacked.

Pain blossomed on my bicep and I could feel a small mark forming. But  knew that the pain would go away quickly. I refocused on my surroundings and heard the buzzer go off, signifying the gain of a point. My heart rate exploded with anxiousness, my palms sweaty and face red.

I looked around and saw my parents looking upset, my coach disappointed, and my opponent shouting ¨Yes!¨ My heart rate fell and I could feel the tears of anxiety well up, how could I win if I had so easily lost the first point?
I retreated back to the starting position and calmed myself down. It was just a fluke, I told myself, it won’t happen again. Less intensely than before, I waited for the referee to begin the second point. I could feel a droplet of sweat (or was it a tear) slide down to the bridge of my nose.

I heard the referee shouting to begin, saw my opponent jump backwards, and stilled myself. My offensive plan flashed through my mind, and I slowly approached my opponent. I went one step at a time, watching my opponent keep the distance even. Eventually, he reached the end of the strip and I could feel a smirk forming on my face.
I slowly accelerated until I was racing across the strip. I could see the nervousness on my opponent’s face, feel the wind racing against my face, and I lunged forward with a feint to the right. My opponent, in the same situation I was in before, moved to block the saber.

I immediately switched direction and saw the panic rise on his face. I slashed my saber on the top of his mask and heard a satisfying ‘thunk.’ The vibrations ran down my arm and a wide smile broke out on my face.

I cheered for joy and looked at my parents and my coach. I saw the pride evident on my coach's face, the joy on my mother's face, and the slight nod of the head signifying my father’s approval. I raced back to my starting point and settled down into my stance. I had scored the second point with relative ease. I could win this.

This time, I was calm and confident. I would try the same strategy again, after all, if something isn’t broken, don’t fix it. I shifted my eyes between the referee and my opponent, ready for the beginning of the 3rd point.

Our match continued this way until both my opponent and I were tied at 14 points. Both of us were exhausted, and I doubted that either of us had any stamina left. Sweat had accumulated all across my back and was running down my face. I was staring down my opponent and when the referee called the final point, I rushed forward at him.
I was too exhausted to use any more advanced techniques, so I just lunged at him to try and finish the match as quickly as possible. My opponent, like he had at the beginning, jumped back and I missed. My opponent smiled at me and I knew he was ready to win this point just like the first time. But unlike before, I was ready to miss and I had quickly gotten back into my stance.

My opponent noticed this, and his smile fell off of his face. He rushed forward at me, but I was prepared for his strike. He struck from my right side, and I shifted my sword to parry him. He didn’t feint and I successfully parried him. He backed away quickly before I could counterattack and I could see the panic flashing through his eyes.
I ran forwards at him and was confident that he wouldn’t be able to do anything to block me. But he suddenly stopped and I was thrown off-guard. I regained my momentum and charged forwards to close the small distance between us. I was ready to slash across his chest when he suddenly crouched down to the floor.

I was stunned, never having seen anyone do that to avoid being hit. So while I was surprised by his dodge, my opponent raised his sword and slashed it at me. I knew that I would be unable to block my opponent, and he hit me on my forearm. My eyes closed in grim acceptance that I had lost the match.

I slowly opened my eyes and I saw how my opponent was joyfully announcing to his family that he had won. I walked up to him and shook his hand, trying to hide that I was incredibly upset by my loss.

I walked back to the system and unplugged my gear. I looked at my parents and saw them smiling at me. I slowly trotted towards them and I told them that I had lost. My parents reassured me that it was ok and that I would do better next year.

I was going to hug them, but my mom stopped me and said, ¨Why don’t you take a shower before hugging us? You stink like sweat.¨I smiled sheepishly at her for having forgotten that I was covered in sweat and went back into the changing room to take off my sweaty gear.

In the locker room, I reflected on how the final match was the most difficult match I had ever been apart of. I then thought of the future and the summer national event, recalling that I would have to face even more difficult opponents in the near future.

I felt my blood pumping once more, and I realized that I would definitely be ready for the nationals.