The Unbeatable Man-Ch1
The Unbeatable Man-Ch1
The Unbeatable Man-Ch1
Matt Furey
Copyright 2009, Matt Furey & Gold Medal Publications, Inc. All Rights Reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright conventions Published in the United States of America by: Gold Medal Publications, Inc. 10339 Birdwatch Drive Tampa, Florida 33647 Tel: (813) 994-8267 * FAX (813) 994-4947 Email: matt@mattfurey.com Website: mattfurey.com Layout and Design by Vincent Lai
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Based on a true story. Names and other details fictionalized at the authors discretion.
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One
I grew up in a small town in Iowa that called itself a city. 10,000 of us were surrounded by acres of farms with seven-foot corn stalks and mile-long rows of bean fields. Each day when I stepped outside my house and looked north I was greeted by a greenish-blue water tower hovering a hundred feet above me. The citys name, CARROLL, shown across its dome in black paint. My house was only a hundred fifty feet from this water tower but my home was located several miles away. My home was in the wrestling room at my high school. This home was filled with red and gold mats, with barbells and dumbbells and weight machines. My home had a locker room where I stored training gear, it had showers for me to wash the salty sweat from my body after practice; it had a scale for me to keep track of the pounds I needed to drop before a match and it had an empty space on the wall where I imagined my name and my accomplishments would be painted someday. This empty space would say: Matt Furey State Champion. More than any other place, I was comfortable in a wrestling room; comfortable in the midst of brawling men whose frames were shredded with muscle. The first time I journeyed into this home and stepped onto those red and gold mats I felt a chill; a chill of excitement in a room where the temperature was never less than 80 degrees. The heat promoted mental toughness and helped with weight loss. As I learned to push, pummel and pry against the limbs of my teammates, as I learned to move my body into and around the force of another, my t-shirt and shorts were sopped in sweat.
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As I lived up to the vows I set for myself, I encountered many challenges. One time, when I was a sophomore, I went to a beer party with my friend, John, a 6' 4" would-be animal who wrestled heavyweight and played tackle on the football team. At this party a short stocky farmer named Dan came up to me, flanked with a group of his buddies. He tried to pick a fight with me by poking his finger into my chest and repeatedly telling me I was a loser, a nothing, a nobody. As he took a gulp from his beer glass he asked me why I
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10
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