REAL THIRD PLACE LIVING SPACE

For a brief time I was an athlete with potential. I’d learned how to not get pinned in wrestling, how to lose by decision, how to win by decision, and finally how to stall to victory.

It’s the last one people like referees didn’t understand. They hated it, told me to stay on the mat, stop riding the out of bounds line, and for God’s sake, stop flopping.

I was a flopper?

I flopped my way to a national championship, or would have if the same ref who had warned me in two previous matches hadn’t been my finals ref.

This was a guy unused to the fast pace of international style pins, like throwing a guy to his back for a ‘touch pin.’

This was a ref who couldn’t anticipate what might happen and act, instead of waiting and waiting and reacting.

My style required an action oriented ref because I struck so fast. Like Muhammad Ali, I floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee. I ran away, backed up, countered the other guy’s moves, until I saw my chance. It was rope a dope on the mat.

Greco roman wrestling was all upper body, and if a guy leaned a certain way I made him lean again and launched them.

After a few launches I hung back, stalled out, gave up penalty points, and milked the clock.

Guys better than me lost because they didn’t manage their match the way I did. Can you imagine an angrier exchange than one between a superior athlete and the scrub they lost to? They were pissed.

I didn’t expect the ref reaction. It was worse, and cost me a title. My pasty little referee practically handed the last win to my opponent. At least he handed it to him before I did.

The kid was good, no doubt about it. I’d already gone against the other kid in the finals round robin and tied him 3-3. He’d already decisioned the guy I had last. I needed a pin for gold, a decision for second. Hell, I could have forfeited and still got third.

The two guys I faced in the finals went on to win several titles in college, one at Oregon State, the other at Iowa. Did I mention they were good?

I threw my last guy three times for pins each time, but the ref couldn’t make it to the mat in time, and I couldn’t hold him.

I ended up losing by one point, but in my heart of hearts I’m the champion.

II

During a recent stop at Tigard Tapphoria some of the guys were talking about their kids’ activities. That night they were dance dads, DD, and it reminded me of the time I saw the Drill Down at the dance state championships.

The girl we knew made it until the end of drill down. She and another girl were given orders, and followed them, but the other girl got it right.

Afterwards we all said the right thing about getting so close, you’ll be the winner to us, the usual, and she changed the game.

“The other girl got it wrong. I executed the command and she didn’t. She knows it, the judges know it. They know I’m the champion, but I’m not complaining. The other girls know it, too, but changing it would be bad for dance,” she said.

She went to college and graduated and kept dancing. I’ll be looking for her on the Denver sideline of tonight’s game against the Blazers where she wears Nugget cheer gear.

III

Now you’re probably asking, ‘who talks about kid dance competition in a bar?’

It’s a two part answer. The first part is dads involved in their kids’ lives talk about them.

The second part is finding the right bar to relax, drink, and gamble. It takes the right mix to bring out the best, and dad’s involved with their kids are the best.

Tapphoria is that bar and those dads know they’ve got the right place, their Third Place.

Add live music and it might be a third place for more.

It’s this Saturday night and I’m thinking of Saturday night songs.

What song makes your Saturday night? Something to dance to?