Essay About Sound Of The Police Car Door And Coach Warren

Hit Me Not
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Narration
SLAM!! The sound of the police car door being slammed shut, sent chills down
my spine. The hole school yard rushed to the iron fence, the one surrounding the school
make us prisons when we have done no wrong, like cattle at feeding time to get a better
look. Not much happens in this small town, so when a scandal does erupt you have the
makings of a gossip blockbuster, something to talk about in the weeks to come. I didnt
see the man in the back seat at first he was already in the car when I heard the door shut
and turned around to look, but I had heard the rumors from the little busy bees that like to
talk about every one else, so that some one will pay attention to them. I tried my hardest
not to believe them. As the car drove towards me I could see a gray figure in the back
seat, but couldnt make out who it was. When the silence engulfed my peers I fought and
struggled my way through the wall of students for a better look. As the car passed I could
see Coach Warren starring out the side window not locking at anything but seeing
everything. My emotions ignited like ants under a magnifying glass in the hot summer
sun. I didnt know what to think. Were the rumors true? Did he do it? No not the good
coach. I knew him too well, or did I. I was confused, angry, sad and hurt all at the same
time. Could he hurt someone? Was he just like those he tried to protect me from? No it
was lies all lies. His eyes looked empty and hollow like the inside of a keg after a college
frat party and as the tainted hero was driven by he caught a glimpse of me watching and
could only hang his head. It was at that point I knew and my anger filled eyes began to
swell.
Coach Warren and I had met freshman year. I was the new kid in town and a bit of
a delinquent getting involved with the “wrong crowds”. There was not much to do in my
new little town, but get into trouble and any thing was better than being at home. Some
people say “home sweet home” and “home is were the heart is”. well my home was more
like a A Nightmare on Elm Street staring Mommy Dearest or in my case Daddy dearest.
Anyway I had been in trouble numerous times and I guess throwing “flashers”, a typed of
firework that any juvenile could obtain every 4th of July that released a series of bright
blinding flashes of light, into the downtown Chinese restaurant was the straw that broke
the camels back. The judge said that if he saw me in his court, or head my name called
again I would be on my way to juvenile hall and I didnt want that . So to stay out of
trouble I decided to try out for wrestling. After school I made my way to the gym and
climbed the school colored steps to the top floor. As I opened the door I could
hear the squeaking of rubber soled shoes and the grunting of frustrated wrestlers. I man
noticing that I was kind of out of place walked over to me and introduced himself to me
as Coach Warren. He was not quite what I had expected from those how spoke about him.
Coach was a semi-average middle aged looking man about 58 and 220 pounds but he
wasnt fat the man was built like a tank and looked as if he belong in the WWF. Where
they would call him Dozer and he would bull all competitors, not here in this little town.
His hand shake was firm and confidant and as he shook my hand he asked if I was
lost. Half joking I am sure. I told him I wanted to try out for the team and explained my
judiciary complications. He told me he would give me a shot, so we walk out of his office
and onto the wrestling mat. The whistle echoed through out the gym then silence no more
squeaking, no more grunts of frustration just quit. Before I knew it the team was huddled
around Coach and as he introduced me to them I felt an unfamiliar feeling I felt right at
home.
Wrestling became my life. I was always in the gym working out, or shadow
wrestling. I was the first one to arrive in the mornings for our A.M. workouts and I was
always the last to leave practice. I seemed to have a natural talent for wrestling and
progressed quickly. I became the only freshman on the varsity team and it was only my
first year wrestling, ever. This impressed coach and he began to work closer with me
teaching me more advanced moves that he himself used. We began to talk not only as
coach and student but as friends. We would talk about football and baseball, about girls
and cars, and of course about what I wanted