The 158-Pound Marriage

In Saturday's New York Times the 158-pound class had narrowed down predictably. Iowa State's Willard Buzzard had a hard time with Lehigh's Mike Warnick, but survived the semifinal round to beat Warnick by two points, 12-10. (Bender had pinned Warnick in their Eastern final match; by comparative scores, Buzzard appeared to be in trouble.) Bender, coasting 9-0 in the third period of his semifinal with Oregon State's Hiroshi Matsumoto, separated Matsumoto's shoulder and advanced to the finals by forfeit - as good as a fall. 'Well, that's that,' Utch said. 'The Jap was supposed to be the only one who could give him any trouble. He's got it wrapped up.'

'"Wrapped up!"' I said. I hated that goddamn language. 'I hope he gets stuck in an elevator and misses the match. I hope he eats a diseased steer and throws the whole thing. I hope he's seduced by a cowgirl and wilts under pressure. I'm going to set up a shrine to Willard Buzzard and pray to it all night. I hope Bender loses himself in a genetics problem - preferably his own. I hope Severin is so humiliated that he never dares to coach anyone again!'

'Stop it,' Utch said. 'Please stop it. Do we have to hate them now? Do we?'

On Sunday The New York Times said nothing. The finals took place after 8 p.m., Oklahoma time, and the results would be in Monday's paper.

'I could call the boys over at the Winters',' Utch said. 'I'm sure they'd know.'

'Jesus, "the boys",' I said. 'Go ahead, if you must.'

'Well, I can wait, of course,' Utch said, and she did.

I ran out of cigarettes a little after midnight and had to go to Mama Paduzzi's Pizza Parlour. It was the only place in town open after midnight and was always full of students, or worse. I met Edith at the cigarette machine. Severin hated smoking so violently that he now refused to buy them for her if she ran out. Edith disliked the pizza place so much that she actually looked pleased to see me. Two seedy youths were hanging around the machine, eyeing her.

'You're back,' I said.

'It's not that far.'

'I thought it was another country,' I said.

'Oh, it is.' We laughed, and then she seemed to remember when we had last laughed together and looked away. 'I left my headlights on,' she said. Outside, she got into the car, turned the lights out and sat staring at the wheel. 'I can't see you at all, under any circumstances,' she said. 'It just doesn't work out very well.'

'If Severin would just talk to Utch sometime,' I said. 'She's pretty bad, she is really, well ... taken with him, you know.'

'I know that,' she said, exasperated. 'Didn't you know that? Severin can't talk to her. I don't think he can stand her. He doesn't want to hurt her any more than he already has.'

'He doesn't have any right to hate us,' I said.

'It's me he hates,' she said. I touched her arm, but she pulled away. 'Go look after Utch,' she said. 'I'm all right, I'm not suffering. I'm not in love with you.'

'You didn't have to say that,' I said.

She started the car; I saw that she was crying. But for whom?

When I got home, Utch had left a note; she had gone to see Edith. But I knew she hadn't found Edith at home. At 4 a.m. I went to the Winters' house to get her. She was curled up on their living room couch and wouldn't come home with me. Severin had gone to bed.

'He went to bed hours ago,' Edith told me, 'and I'm about to go to bed myself.' She said Utch could stay on the couch if she wanted to, and she did. I left her after about an hour; it was clear she wasn't going to talk to me.

It was the university paper that I saw on Monday; I never did see how The New York Times wrote it up. But the school paper had more local information.

Bender Upset in Finals; Winter to Resign

An interesting headline, I thought, and it wouldn't have made The New York Times. I couldn't believe it. I doubted that Iowa State's Willard Buzzard could either. Bender was quoted as saying, 'I just didn't get up for it.' Willard Buzzard - a former teammate of Bender's at Iowa State - said he sensed that Bender wasn't ready for him from the very first takedown; Bender looked listless. Remembering their old practices together, Buzzard said, 'George used to push me around pretty good, and I never forgot it. I owed him this one.' Buzzard wrestled a very physical, aggressive match. 'I just never rose to the occasion,' said George James Bender. Coach Severin Winter agreed. 'George wasn't himself. I think he shot his wad the night

before.' Winter was referring to Bender's semifinal victory over Oregon State's Hiroshi Matsumoto. Coach Winter announced to the reporters in Stillwater his plans to retire. Back on campus, he denied that Bender's loss in the finals had any influence on his decision. 'I've been thinking about stepping down for some time. I'd like to spend more time with my wife and children, and continue my studies for the German Department.' Asked if he would stay with the team until a new coach could be found, Winter said he would. 'I hope to still get up to the wrestling room from time to time,' Winter said, 'just to roll around.' Bender had nothing but praise for Severin Winter's coaching. 'He was instrumental in getting me to the finals,' Bender said. 'He got me there, and it was up to me to take it from there. I'm sorry I let him down.' Coach Winter shook his head and smiled when asked if he thought Bender had let him down. 'We only let ourselves down,' Winter said. 'We should try to minimize all this responsibility we feel we owe other people.'

A curious remark to find in a sports column.

'Incredible!' I said to Utch. 'What was the score? The stupid paper doesn't even give the score.'

'Buzzard was leading twelve to five in the last period when he pinned Bender.'

'A slaughter,' I said. 'I don't believe it. Bender must have been sick.'

I could see the look of bored superiority that Utch suddenly showed before she turned her face away. She was afraid I had seen it, and I had. 'What is it?' I asked her.

'What happened out there?'