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Best Short Stories © 2024

The Last Match

(Reading Time: 03:09)
As he raised his head, a drop of sweat was radiant on the tip of his nose, waiting to fall. He picked up a bottle from the rag and kept it in his sack. He looked towards the rows and rows of heads in the packed arena - the millions of people united in their screams and whoops. They wanted blood, and he would give it to them.

Jack was the World Heavyweight Champion in wrestling. The winner of the Olympic gold in the past year, he was the hot favourite of the crowd in today's match against Marvolo, the man who lost out last year only for a second's delay in his reflexes. Everyone in the arena had put their money on Jack, but only he knew that they were in for the biggest let-down of their lives. Because today was going to be the last match he ever played. The managers of the two rivals had already planned everything out. Marvolo was to defeat Jack tonight and emerge as the new World Champion. And the money Jack would make today was surely going to be all that he needed for a comfortable future.

With everything he had fought for till now at stake, Jack prepared himself mentally for the last match of his life.

The referee blew his whistle. Marvolo in his trademark red shorts charged like an angry bull at Jack. He felt his insides crumble at the sudden stiff jabbed by Marvolo. He could barely register the collective sighs and boos of the crowd as he grabbed the ring to break his fall. Marvolo roared as he charged again, and again. Jack could feel his blood rushing as wave after wave of pain hit him. The crowd by now was too stupefied to let out a groan even. And by the end of round one, a stunned silence prevailed.

The reigning champion of Wrestling, the man who never disappointed his fans managed to somehow maneuver himself on his seat. Marvolo was never famous for his forgiveness, and the memories of last year's final were still fresh in his mind. He didnt just want to defeat Jack, he intended to destroy him. The second round was just a replay of round one, and half the hall was already empty. The remaining spectators had changed sides by now, and were roaring their approval at the screwjob that was going on.

"This cant be happening", thought Jack. All his life he had struggled, he had sweated, he had given up all he had, only to realise his dream of making it big at the Olympics. And once that was done, would he let it all go just like that. His pride won't allow that to happen, never...

And like a wounded lion, he lifted his battered body off the chair, and charged at Marvolo, who wasnt even aware his opponent was still in the fight. And round three started with a carefully aimed zamboni, exactly like the one with which he had brought Marvolo down at this very place last year. And in the blink of an eye, the tables turned. Jack put in everything he had, every remaining ounce of energy that was in him, went in the fight. Marvolo kicked, he pummeled, he tried everything he could to get back, but nothing could stop the 'Champion' once he had made up his mind.

Jack could see the ashen expression on his manager's face as he dodged the final attempt of Marvolo to make an impact, and brought him down with his trademark move 'The Scissor-Cut'. The applause that followed was thunderous. The whole hall echoed their approval, and welcomed their hero back into the scene. But all Jack could hear was the thumping of his heart, and nothing could beat the euphoria that followed the winning of a hard-fought game. He had fought back, and got rid of the pain and frustration he thought would be his destiny.

Jack walked out of the arena, ignoring the protests and threats of his manager and the mad cheers of the crowd. He didn't need the money. In fact that would indeed be the last match of his life, but he had walked out with his head held high, and not like some wounded caged animal. He walked on, not having any particular idea of where he was going, but he knew his subconscious would take him to that one place he always went after winning a fight - the Worly beach.

Wrestling was his passion. He knew he was a hero only as long he was a 'Champion'. One wrong move and all the glory would vanish. The bustling city life would go on as usual. But he intended to change it all. Jack was going to start over again. He had had enough of all the tension, and the mad rush for money or popularity... He had his own small stash of savings and he intended to use it wisely this time.

The sound of the waves from the rocks at the shore felt like a struggle. He looked at the city moving with the same speed, narrowing at his farthest sight.

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