In the woods with Waunita … the saga continues!
As suggested by one of my colleagues, there is more to my encounter in the woods with Waunita then I previously suggested. As you recall, I was nailed between the eyes by a Titleist golf ball. The “howitzer” came off of a tee box, 350 yards away. The duffer was of course, Waunita.
I related how I came to, to find my swollen frontal lobe in the caring hands of Waunita. I admitted that I fell back into an unconscious state and that is true … albeit, not completely true!
So, as Paul Harvey would say, “now … you will hear, the rest of the story.”
It is absolutely true that Waunita gave birth to at least one 4-timer in Kansas wrestling. The depth of her involvement within the sport is legendary and perhaps I will share that later. However currently, she is a practitioner in MMA and is an expert at submission wrestling!
Following the cranial contusion I was in-and-out of lucidness a few times. During one such episode, Waunita asked if I wanted a re-match!
Now, Waunita claims to have made me submit to her powers before … a claim that I deny. However, I accepted her offer to a bout. She hopped up with glee and dug through her golfbag. She announced, “here it is” as she tossed me a singlet and a mask. I gritted my teeth because I knew what she wanted. She was insisting that it was my turn, to play the luchador. Our bout was being contested under lucha libre rules. I admitted that, "I will submit to your request, but I will never submit in the match!”
I stepped behind some nearby shrubs and changed into my costume, as did Waunita. We both stepped into a clearing and in pure braggadocio style, complete with the tossing of ceremonial salt, announced our intentions. I began to circle and Waunita countered. She took a shot but I was quick with the down block and sprawl. She ran toward and up a hickory tree and did a back flip off of it. She was now behind me as I charged after her.
I set her up and was in deep on a nice double leg but she powered her hips into me and shot a hard crossface. I gathered myself and acknowledged her setting of the rules as I wiped the blood from my mouth as nose.
It was an epic struggle. For 30 minutes, the dust was flying as we both were. There were a few attempts to gain the submission but we both withstood the pain and powered out of the holds.
She faked a leg attack and I sprawled, Waunita snapped me into a front headlock. She yelled, “I’ve got you now” and I screamed, “No you don’t.” Waunita tightened the vise around my head. This bout was not about pinfalls; the name of the game was submission.
The world was beginning to close in on me. I was struggling for air and Waunita was screaming for me to tap. I would not relent, I could not give in … my next recollection was waking under the caring hands of Waunita. The mask I had been wearing was tossed aside; my singlet was mysteriously torn and ripped, Waunita said, “sorry Roscoe, you submitted to me!” She had a wonderfully content grin on her face as she stroked my cheek. I was shaking my head NO … she kept grinning and said, “yes Roscoe, yes … it was wonderful!”
I began pleading, that my submission was not a conscious act. I demanded a rematch. But she shook her head no, claiming … “you don’t have the energy for another match.” I tried to deny her claim but when I stood, the goose egg on my forehead began to throb and it dropped me to my knees. As I faded into unconsciousness, I was begging for a rematch.
Now, you know the rest of the story … so far as I know! I did not say “uncle.” Waunita may have choked me out … yes, she did choke me out. What happened then, only Waunita knows for sure. The rest of you can merely speculate what happened that day in the woods with Waunita.
