Page 16 of My Thursday Throwback

Dear Diary,

Today was the regionalgymnastics competition in Houston. I was soooo nervus. The arena was packed with so many people. I did my best and Michael said he was proud of me but when I advanced to the finals, I threw up three times. I didn’t think I was going to make it through the floor routine and the balance beam because my stomach was churning so bad, it felt like I had to poop, like the running, squishy kind.

I didn’t do too good on the floor routine. I came in fourth.

Daddy looked really disappointed in me and want to know what he was paying so much money for since I was always losing. It hurt my feelings but when I looked in the crowd, over in the corner was Mr. Baut Batista. His hand went to his head, then over his heart and he held up one finger. It was like he was telling me being number one was in my head and in my heart.

The announcer called my name and I went on the floor for the balance beam. Just to check, I looked in the stands. Mama was praying. Grandma was reading her bible and Daddy was talking to some lady with a really big butt standing next to him. Michael was on his feet yelling that I can do it. My eyes looked for Mr. Batista who was sitting all by himself, holding up that one finger.

That one finger meant everything to me.

He believed I could be number one and so did I.

I got a running start toward that stupid 4 inch wide piece of wood, hit the springboard and up I went. I tumbled, twisted, turned and did the splits like a champion. I did four backflips and a somersault and landed without a hop. I stuck that landing like white on rice.

Momma was on her feet clapping. Michael was whistling and cheering for me. Daddy didn’t seem to care one bit but Mr. Batista, he was crying. He was crying real hard when they hung that first place medal around my neck.

The next day, I hung it on his doorknob, rang the bell and ran.

It was his win as much as it was mine.

I thought he should have it.

He earned it too.

Zelda Marie Fitzsimmons, Age 10

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