Chapter 93: Anticipating Tournaments

Sunday, March 6, 1983

Church was interesting, if only because the church bulletin had both my name and Jasmine’s listed in the ‘News and Concerns’ list. Technically, this wasn’t a ‘Prayer List’. The church didn’t tell you who to pray for, it just gave you the information that, perhaps, this person or that might be worth recognizing. Lutheran theology is a little murky on that, anyway. God answers all prayers, it’s said, but silence is itself an answer, and doesn’t imply anything other than that God expects us to mostly handle things ourselves. It’s about the best you can do when your religion declares that God is omniscient, omnipresent, and omnipotent, and listens to and answers all prayers, yet the world is still chock full of awful, depressing things, far worse than the woes Jasmine and I had.

Cynical? Yes, but not deeply cynical. At least, I didn’t think so.

Study Group was ... weird. As much as I could remember, the last time I’d been here without Angie was during the dark days of Max. We were going into an exam week, so we focused and got to studying.

Both my jaw and neck were continuing to improve, but the bruises were putting on a pretty spectacular show on their way out, so I looked even worse.

Dad, Mom, and I headed over to Memorial around six to wait for the U.T. crew to return. Angie hadn’t given any specifics on the phone call, just to expect her around now.

When we got there, Jasmine and Camille were already waiting, so Jas and I sat together, holding hands, smooching, and talking about nothing in particular. Mom and Camille also got to talking, which might have worried me in a different world. In this one ... not so much.

Other parents trickled in over the next half-hour. Cammie arrived on her bike about fifteen minutes after we’d gotten there.

“Hey!” she said.

I gave her a hug. “Hey, yourself!”

“I’m almost as nervous as if it was us!”

“I’m not quite that bad, but ... yeah. Hoping for good news.”

The bus actually rolled in around six-thirty. The first off was Steffie.

“Hey! Great to see you!”

“Great to see you, too,” Jas said.

“You look happy,” I said.

She chuckled. “It went ... pretty well.”

People started piling off the bus. Before long, Angie appeared, and ran over to hug Dad and Mom, then me, Jas, and Cammie.

“She did it!” Angie said.

“Paige?” Jas said.

“Yes! She’s joining us, in Dramatic!”

“Woohoo!” Jas said.

“Great!” I said.

“Also, Lexi qualified in Humorous, and Janet and Lizzie in CX.”

“The arch-nemisises!” Cammie said, then giggled.

“I totally heard that, dudette!” Janet hollered as she came off the bus. Behind her, Lizzie was laughing.

“Congrats,” I said, and gave each of them a hug. And, yes, I was aware of the multiple oddities of the situation. Cammie and I, already qualified, welcoming Janet and Lizzie, the veterans (last year’s state champs!) to our ranks. That could have rankled, but not with the team we had. Then there was my hugging Janet and Lizzie as if it was perfectly normal. It was perfectly normal, this go-round. In my previous go-round? Janet would’ve been flabbergasted, and Lizzie might have slapped me. At most, she’d have gone stiff as a board, not hugged right back.

What a difference a universe makes!

That was it for the big news. Jaya had just missed. I gave her a hug anyway, which she seemed quite happy about. Sheila and Lexi had narrowly missed in Duo, while Mikayla had bowed out two rounds too early in Dramatic. Still, we were taking twelve people to Tournament of Champions. That would put us up there with some national powerhouses. I figured Bronx Sci, Glenbrook South, Grapevine, and some of the others would have an edge, but we’d stepped up big.

Meg was all smiles, even as she came over, saying, “Hey! What are my slackers doing here?”

“Welcoming you back, of course!” I said.

She laughed, hugging each of us. “We missed you!”

“We really did!” Steffie said, and a number of others seconded her. Or, thirded?

I watched my friends haul their stuff to their cars, or their parents’ cars, and just shook my head a little. We’d never taken this many kids on a major trip during my first go-round, and this was an invitational, not an open-signup tournament. With any luck, Meg could keep the ball rolling and recruit more kids to Debate. Maybe they’d even do something about the grade point issue...

And I stopped. Maybe they’d do something about it? Why not me? I had a solid shot at having a sympathetic ear on the School Board. I had a fairly sympathetic ear in Principal Riggs. We suddenly had a program that could prove its quality. Why not push to make it award an extra grade point? Maybe you’d only get the extra point if you participated in tournaments? Or qualified for State? State wasn’t a ridiculous hurdle, after all.

It’d have been a pipe dream a year ago. I didn’t care in the least about getting that grade point for me, either. The whole thing could take effect in 1985 for all I cared. I just cared that we’d leave Memorial Debate in as strong a position as possible.

And ... why not Drama, too? At least, performance-oriented Drama. If Band got you P.E. credit, maybe we could claim that the musical counted. Not the same as awarding the extra grade point, but it’d free up a class slot that kids could use for something else.

I had a new action item for Student Council. Now to see where it went. Oh, I probably wouldn’t push it until after the election (the School Board’s, not the Student Council’s, although that, too). It’d look too self-serving even if I said it was delayed until 1985. But after that? Let’s see where things went.

Angie was too tired to do much more than change into her PJs, come by to say goodnight, and then dive into bed, whereas I was almost back to normal. She did tell me that she’d decided to skip Sadie Hawkins, as would Paige. Maybe they’d be at some alternative dance? Could happen.

I stayed up and read a little, but was still asleep well before first-life me would’ve been on all too many nights.

Monday, March 7, 1983

Both Steffie and Meg were very vocal about how thrilled they were to have an extra trip to plan in April. Five weeks from now we’d be at State, in Austin; six weeks from now we’d be in Lexington, Kentucky for ToC. I’d never been to Lexington, only Louisville and some of the surrounding area, so this would be new (and highly welcome) ground.

Dad would, of course, groan about the extra expenses, but we knew it was money he was happy to part with.

Three weeks after ToC we’d take the stage for ‘The Sound of Music’.

Tuesday, March 8, 1983

Debate was even more of a party than it might have otherwise been. This was Janet’s eighteenth birthday. Lizzie brought a large red velvet cake that was frosted an amazing shade of pink, with eighteen white icing hearts on it. Each heart had a candle in the middle.

It was a lot of cake, but there were a lot of us.

The cake either surprised Janet, or she did a good job of pretending. “Aw, babe, you shouldn’t have!”

Lizzie smiled broadly. “You only turn eighteen once, my love.”

That was ... new. Last year Cindy had made it through almost the whole year without figuring that Janet and Lizzie were a couple. As much as I figured some of that might be self-denial, this was ... more. But, then, both of them were eighteen now, and maybe that changed something. Maybe not.

It seemed fitting that they’d be that much more open with us, though. If anyone somehow didn’t know ... well, now they did.

We all sang ‘Happy Birthday’, then Janet took a very deep breath and blew. Every candle went out. She grinned, afterward. “You all know I’m totally full of hot air now!”

We cheered and laughed. Lizzie said, “What’d you wish for, honey?”

Janet wrapped her arms around Lizzie. “Can’t say — won’t come true. But I’m pretty sure I’ll get my wish.”

Lizzie smiled. “I’m going to guess so, too.”

Then they kissed, to more applause.

We were still almost all business at Study Group, with everyone back and exam week still in progress, but we took time out to finally celebrate Sarah’s seventeenth birthday. Mike had a cake for her, with carnations (her favorite flowers) done in colorful icing.

Her birthday had been way back on the third. Normally we’d have celebrated it on the first, but they decided to hold off with our injuries, and Sunday had been out because of the missing U.T. crew.

As far as I could tell, Mike and Sarah were as strong as ever. The next year, though, would be the test for all of our long-term relationships. I was pretty sure that Jasmine and I would make it, and Mel and Cammie seemed nearly a sure thing, as did (as much as I could tell, anyway) Andy and Cal. The rest? Each had had their hiccups, but seemed to be strong now.

The worst pressure would be on Emily and the Wonder Twins. If that worked, it’d be amazing, but ... it was working and, presumably, they must have figured out a lot of things to keep it working this long.

The amazing part was the support of both sets of parents for what was quite an unusual relationship. That might make quite a bit of difference.

Wednesday, March 9, 1983

When I got up in the morning, I browsed through the paper, finding out that Ronald Reagan had (again, for me) introduced the phrase ‘Evil Empire’ to refer to the Soviet Union. Thank goodness I hadn’t mentioned that before! It was something I easily might have said.

I went on, flipping through the paper, then stopped, staring at the sports section. I seldom did this, but ... this was one of those times.

The headline was about the University of Houston expecting great things in the NCAA tournament. I sat, and stared, and then stared some more.

This was that year! The year Hakeem (then Akeem) Olajuwon did not win an NCAA championship (though, if I remembered correctly, he was voted Most Valuable Player anyway)! Another in a series of crushing defeats for Houston sports, and perhaps the last I’d be able to predict. Maybe, maybe not. I couldn’t remember future years that well. There was a disastrous second half in football in... 1993? Had to be 1993. But that was football, and in ten years, friends of mine might be in that game, or that game might not even happen at all.

This was right here, right now, and I knew it. Of course, I’d known Milwaukee, too. There were no sure things. That said, the odds were strongly in Houston’s favor, and against North Carolina State, the eventual winner. I’d have to look, but six to one or better seemed likely, especially at the beginning of the tournament.

Once we’d left the house, I told Angie that we had an errand later, then explained the NCAA tournament and my strategy.

“I remember that!” she said. “I mean, I was still in Chicago, but when I got here, people were bummed about it. Then next year, it happened again, and people were even more bummed. Everyone at U.H. was really down on basketball the first year I was there.”

“And you just filled in next year!” I said. “I wouldn’t have remembered that. If I had, I’d have guessed this year was next year. I’d forgotten that they lost two finals in a row. Though ... no, I’d have figured it out. Hakeem graduates this year, and he was definitely in the big loss that I remembered.”

“It sucked enough that I heard about it. Again, and again, and again.”

“So it sounds right, I take it?”

“I wouldn’t know NC State from Podunk U, but it does, otherwise. I feel like next year it was some school whose name I knew, beyond just, you know, the name of a state followed by State.”