JOs--Day 1
Well, the first day is over. I fenced Juniors (under 21) and on Sunday I’ll fence Cadets (17 and under). The flight to New Mexico was uneventful, for the most part. I got some strange looks hauling my giant green fencing bag around (it weighs about sixty pounds, I kid you not) and was very thankful it had wheels. I don’t want to think too hard about trying to carry the damn thing on my back.
There were about seven other Minnesota fencers that I personally knew on the flight, and two others who came in earlier. Our coaches got in really late, and yet showed up on time to whip us into shape. Someday, I’m going to figure out exactly how they do that. We ate scones and bananas for breakfast, and compared the other teams’ sweats.
Personally, I think the best ones were the ones a saber fencer had-black and pink. I didn’t see which college she was from. In my division alone, there were 136 competitors, most of them college students with A through C rankings.
For those of you who don’t know, you get a ranking by beating a certain number of fencers in a competition. A-rank fencers are the best. You don’t want to meet anybody with an A-rank in a dark alley when they’re in a questionable mood. Because you will die. Slowly. And painfully.
I’m unranked so far, but I’m working on my E. I might get it next year.
The tournament itself was huge. There were about fifty strips in the convention center, and the hotel that was recommended for fencers got booked. I’m staying at a smaller one two blocks away. Seeing as this was my first national competition, I think I did pretty well. I only had two panic moments, one when they had computer issues and couldn’t find my registration (okay, it took them about ten seconds to fix it, but it felt like longer) and when I tested my weapons, and discovered none of them worked.
All four of my blades. None of them registered on the tester. All of them were dead. I almost fainted. Thankfully it was the tester, and not my weapons, that had issues. Crisis averted.
The pool I was assigned to was really good. I was probably the youngest and, ergo, the least experienced fencer there. The first girl I bouted was an A-rank, who I later discovered was ranked number four in the country. Hearing that made it easier to accept the fact that she utterly destroyed me.
That first bout kinda foreshadowed how the rest of the pool was going to do. I came in last. I scored points on everyone, and had a solid 5-2 victory against one opponent, but I still lost by a lot.
Junior Olympics is harsher than a regular tournament. There’s a cut-off to reach the Direct-Elimination rounds, and I failed to reach that. Out of 136 fencers, I was seated 118th, not high enough to continue further. However, considering my age and that this was my first national tournament, I’m proud of how I did. One of my coaches said that she was pleased with my one win, and called it strong. The last girl I fenced was scary-good, but I still managed to get three points on her, which was more than half of our pool could say.
Three of my teammates advanced to DEs. I watched them for about an hour before heading back to the hotel. Because they’re too old for cadets, they’ll be flying home tomorrow. I’m staying for the rest of the weekend to compete again on Sunday. I think I’ll do better in cadets, where there won’t be as many fencers who are ranked highly, or, for that matter, ranked at all.
I’m choosing to forget that the #4 in the country girl is also competing in cadets. Apparently her sister is ranked number four in the world. Seems to run in the family.
…yeah, not thinking about that.
So, wish me luck for cadets! I’m aiming for the top 100, and to advance to DEs.
And now for a little bit of ranting, because fencers can and do get ticked off.
Dear Director for Pool #8,
I’m choosing to assume that your default personality is not being a bitch to everyone under eighteen and that you just hadn’t had your coffee yet. I am also choosing not to write a note to the Bout Committee and inform them that you were a bitch to our entire pool because it was insanely early, and I can be grumpy too when I’m sleep deprived.
Honestly, none of us were trying to annoy you. The reason we kept asking you who was fencing next was because you didn’t bother to tell us ahead of time. Also, for future reference, pointing and glaring isn’t really effective when we’re all sitting in the same general area.
If you don’t want us to bug you, then for god’s sake, inform the pool who is going next. Otherwise the entirety of the pool can and will ask you.
I understand that foilists can get loud and obnoxious when we’re competing. Yes, I heard the girl two strips over screaming every time she lost a point. None of us were doing that. I think, between all of us, we yelled three times. And I should point out that we never once cursed or screamed at you. We did everything we were supposed to, saluted you at the appropriate times, and shook your hand when it was all done.
Our pool was pretty polite, but I’ll bet that the next one you direct won’t be so understanding. So please stop being a bitch to people who haven’t done anything to deserve it. Bitch at one of the screamers, if you really feel the need.
Sincerely,
One of the foilists who didn’t appreciate being glared at