Inwards: "I wouldn't want to go home on a night like this when I find out that some of the past has been missed. And the light in the window has burnt it's fuse; I pull everything inward but everything's loose."
Some songs, like this one written by Big Country fit so well some circumstances of my time, music seems to keep telling me stories, telling me what to do. I close the browser and head for Corporal for the session. It's fifteen to six.
Six twenty and we were all sitting on the mat. Galhardo was sitting exactly at Panotti's side. His loyalty is moving, almost pathologic, by the looks it came off that hard test completely clear and strong, not even scratched. I started the meeting asking what submission was. Panotti protested:
"But not everyone calls it submission."
"It really doesn't matter, Panotti."
"How come it doesn't matter???", Panotti looked outraged and was like a bantam, ready to go all technical over my poor ignorant self.
"It doesn't matter who uses the word or not. I'm asking you what it means."
"Obedience", answered Figueira, definition I found really reasonable. I and the others, I think for being lazy at that time in the morning or for the real want of a better word. But I tend to think there's no better word to describe it.
"Mortification", Galhardo said all of a sudden, his sad dog eyes turning to me. Panotti laughed at what he had just said. Morales, Zangrandi and Figueira didn't say a word nor did they smile.
"What are you laughing at, Panotti?"
You could hear a string of hair shocking with the ground as it fell down, so strong the silence was. I had five astonished faces looking at me, one of them astonished and almost outraged: Panotti. Still he explained his laughter.
"Galhardo said it's mortification because it was what he lived through the day before yesterday. He ended up paying for his arrogance... That's all.. And I say more: he felt it as mortification because he wanted to. I never meant to mortify him, all I wanted was to test him and see if he can really do what he said he did."
"Does it make sense to you to have almost broken the arm of one of your team's member?"
"Does it make sense that I care about it when Corporal has never had a team trophy in any tournament?"
"No, it makes no sense. To put it bluntly, I don't even see the relation between the two things. It makes as much sense as thinking that just because Corporal has had no titles so far we can allow ourselves to cut down the chances further still with this kind of attitude. Explain then the sense it makes to you."
With the exception of Panotti, furious, I had four terrified faces looking at me. I miss a camera sometimes, to be able to register these moments. But Panotti wasn't about to let my challenge come unseen. And the bantam rose to his feet.
"To be great at wrestling or at anything you decide to do, my father has taught me, we need to have modesty. I can't put up with arrogance. I simply cut Galhardo down to size. And it's a memorable and great size, you better you bet... He is one of the greatest, he fights tough and gorgeously, but he is still not what he assumes he is. All I did was to show him he is still not prepared to say I can't always get the better of him. To be able to say that, he had to prove he can defeat me. And he wasn't able to the day before yesterday, as you could see by yourself through the window." Galhardo didn't even take the trouble to leave the circle to do what he felt he had to do. Panotti watched in silence as his tears rolled down his face. Figueira had a serious expression, but I thought inside he was gleeful, on account of everything Galhardo had been making him suffer during the practices. The room assumed a strange and heavy atmosphere. And Galhardo himself had no one else to blame for the atmosphere he had just brought back.
"Galhardo, if you want to leave the session, no harm done", I said nearly consternated.
He shook his shoe-gazing head, sobbing and trembling; he wouldn't move. Panotti now talked to him, seriously, concerned:
"Good job, Galhardo, you really don't have to hide, you really don't. Show her she doesn't know you. I only wanted to show you the truth, pal... I didn't mean to bring you down, did it to see if you could do what you said you could."
"Really, Panotti? Not the smallest spark of wounded pride for what he said about you?"
I was spiking him hard. I knew I didn't have to be pleasant after the tour of force. I knew a bit, or much of my profession consisted of taking my clients some questioning. They frequently bring their own reasoning ready to use and refuse to see things differently.
"No, it was not." He was breathing heavily with calm rage and weary of trying so hard to control it so he could think clearly and make mincemeat of my arguments; now he himself had tears of rage rolling down his pinkish cheeks. "The time other wrestlers use to boast about what they think they do I use to learn more and more. Galhardo fights so very well, can you imagine what he could make of himself if he only put his arrogance aside to take all its energy to practice. What a hell of a fight he could be fighting right now. He'd grind me. That's what Morales does. See 10% of what he knows about fighting in action and we'll talk about it later."
"If all you preach is what you practice we can look to the team bringing a prize very soon to Corporal, with you in command", it was all I could say.
Panotti looked at me, serious and watering hazel eyes, but eyes that let the triumph of argumentation show, triumph that was as hollow as true, the sensation that he could have expressed those valuable views a different, less violent way.
"Easier said than done, Mrs. Grisam. What you saw through the window was the thousandth time I tried to tell him the same thing. Galhardo is going to be a master, but he only learns this way." At this point Morales nodded without any request for confirmation, as if to say it was real.
"You can believe it's true. Working together, you'll know me better than you do now. I'm sure you'll change your mind about me."
"I've already changed my mind, believe me."
Panotti put an end to the matter through his silence. Though his tears were still rolling, he was satisfied by my surrender. He had gotten his point across. He was one of those who most participated in the meeting. He ended up asking me how I became a psychologist. I said we weren't there to waste time on my professional life. He asked what answering a simple question would cost and I said it would cost us time of our sessions and if he wanted to know, he would have to ask me during a break or time for rest. He was silent for some time while I resumed our discussion about submission. Figueira said he thought submission was to surrender to the fact we had been defeated, understand why we were and work it out to eliminate what caused the fatal flaw. Panotti was the first to agree. Galhardo nodded several times. No opposing voice could be heard in the hall against such sensible view. At last I could see them, for once in their lives, all agree about the same thing. For a moment, they seemed to be the dream team Mr. Costa had dreamed of for so long, the team that could dare to dream of conquering a prize as a team, not just as individual talents of a few wrestlers anymore.
Circle within | Freedom: The Elephant Crushing Ritual
Radio Universal: The Making Of A Thousand Gods.
Sunday, July 18, 2004
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