Tommy Evans and John Ryan, heavy weights from opposing Jr. High Schools, met that infamous day. Tommy "Bullet" Evans had never been defeated. However, John had no defeats to his name as well. All the lesser weights had been decided and now it was time for the final match between the 300 pounder "Bullet Evans and the lighter 175 lb. lean mean muscle man, John Ryan The crowd was restless that day, I can tell you and Bullet was not in "Home" territory. They met at mid mat. Eye to eye, John and Tommy shook hands. The referee lifted his arm and the two pulled back for the break.

John danced around the enormous Evans, quickly showing agility as well as strength. But grabbing a giants leg and taking him down would evade John at first. Bullet would lunge and John would react. Bullet tried chasing John round the mat, occasionally running him off the mat. Then, on the first set, Evans was on top, wrapping John with his huge but unrehearsed muscle/fat arms. John instinctively knew to move quickly, for Evans main move was to fall and crush. John swung his leg out and rose up onto his feet. Bullet seemed agitated and attempted to scare John with his burning red eyes and gritting teeth, along with the bad breath of the night before's drinking at the Riverside Drive-in back row. But John was not to react to such bulliness. He had met Evan's kind before. Finally in the last take down, John was on top, hoping to pull Bullet's let out from under him and roll Evans over for the pin. But some said that would be like rolling away the stone of Christ's tomb.

Bullet went down, but wouldn't roll. He lay like a beached whale, grunting and groaning while John pushed and pulled. Time was waning. John was tiring. Bullet was sweating like a giant warthog. The crowd was screaming "Pin 'em John, Pin 'em!" with all the energy John could muster, he finally turned the mannish boy over. The ref counted "One-Two-Three".

Bullet had been defeated.

John helped Bullet up. He tried to shake the hand of the opponent, but Bullet was already heading for his chair. With tears streaming down his red, mat-blistered face, Bullet knew the reality to some. The ref held John's arm high. Tommy Evans had lost his final match in West Junior High Gymnasium. The crowd was so loud it seemed the glass was shaking. John's team was jumpin' on their fold-out chairs. John wrapped a towel around his neck, gleaming with pride.

And so. it was.

So it was.